Chapter 8 - The Sister My Mother HidCross refused to explain.
For twelve hours, he said nothing except one sentence repeated whenever anyone questioned him.
Ask your mother.
That was impossible.
Unless my mother had left something behind.
Michael and I returned to her house the next morning.
I hadn’t entered since selling it after her death.
The new owners were kind enough to let federal agents search once Donnelly explained that evidence connected to a homicide might still be hidden there.
Standing in my childhood bedroom felt stranger than walking into Dad’s abandoned gym.
My old posters were gone.
Different curtains.
Different furniture.
But I still remembered where everything had been.
Michael stood in the doorway.
“This was yours?”
“Yes.”
“I used to watch from outside.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Dad brought me here twice.”
“When?”
“When you were little.”
“You never came inside?”
“Mom wouldn’t allow it.”
There was no resentment in his voice.
That somehow made it worse.
“Why were you a secret?”
Michael stared toward the window.
“My mother wasn’t your mother.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Dad had me before he met her.”
That made more sense.
Still painful.
“My biological mother died when I was three. Dad raised me alone until he met Elaine.”
“My mom.”
“She loved me.”
“Then why hide you?”
“Raymond.”
Of course.
“Dad was already doing occasional work for him. He thought keeping me separate from the family made me safer.”
I sat on the windowsill.
“Nothing kept anyone safe.”
“No.”
An agent called from downstairs.
We joined him.
They had found a metal container behind insulation in the attic.
Inside were old tax documents.
Letters.
Photographs.
And a birth certificate.
I read the name.
SOPHIA ELAINE BENNETT.
My knees went weak.
Mother: Elaine Bennett.
Father: Thomas Bennett.
Date of birth: eleven months after mine.
“A sister.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“I didn’t know.”
I looked at him.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Donnelly examined the certificate.
“Why would Elaine hide another daughter?”
I searched through the box.
Hospital records.
Adoption papers.
My mother had given Sophia to another family six weeks after birth.
My father’s signature was missing.
“She did it without Dad.”
Michael looked stunned.
“Why?”
A letter answered.
Nora,
If you ever find this, then I failed to protect you from the truth.
Your father never knew Sophia survived.
My vision blurred.
Survived?
I kept reading.
When Sophia was born, Raymond came to the hospital.
He told me Thomas had become dangerous.
He told me our family would be destroyed unless I gave the baby away.
He promised he would leave you and Thomas alone.
I believed him.
I told your father the baby had died shortly after birth.
It was the worst thing I ever did.
I read the sentence twice.
My father had thought his daughter died.
My mother had spent decades carrying the lie.
The adoptive family’s name was listed.
MORGAN.
Donnelly immediately ran the records.
Sophia Bennett had become Sophie Morgan.
Age twenty-three.
Current occupation:
Paramedic.
Chicago.
Alive.
I sat down.
Michael laughed once, completely stunned.
“I have two sisters.”
“Apparently.”
His face softened.
“Dad would’ve lost his mind.”
A strange laugh escaped me.
For the first time in days, it wasn’t bitter.
Then Donnelly’s expression changed.
“What?”
She showed us the screen.
Sophie Morgan had been reported missing that morning.
My happiness vanished.
“Cross.”
Michael grabbed his coat.
“How would he know?”
Donnelly looked at my mother’s letter.
“Raymond knew she existed.”
“And Cross had access to Raymond’s files.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman whispered.
“Is this Nora Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Sophie.”
Every person in the room froze.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
Her breathing was fast.
“There’s a man outside the room.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Do you know why they took you?”
Silence.
Then:
“They said my father’s name was Thomas.”
My throat tightened.
“He was.”
Another silence.
“Who are you?”
I looked at Michael.
“My sister.”
Sophie started crying.
So did I.
The moment lasted four seconds.
Then a man’s voice shouted in the background.
Sophie whispered quickly.
“They want something called the last round.”
The call ended.
Michael punched the wall.
“What is the last round?”
Cole arrived twenty minutes later.
When we told him, he looked toward the old birth certificate.
“Thomas had another daughter?”
“Yes.”
“And Raymond hid her?”
“Yes.”
Cole rubbed his face.
“What did she say?”
“Last round.”
Travis, who had come with him, stopped moving.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“You know it?”
Travis nodded slowly.
“Thomas used to say every fighter needed one final plan.”
“What did he call it?”
“The last round.”
Cole stared.
“It wasn’t evidence.”
“What was it?”
Michael answered.
“A person.”
We looked at him.
“My father told me once that if Raymond ever became unstoppable, somebody inside the network could destroy him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Cole started thinking.
“Someone Raymond trusted.”
Travis muttered, “That narrows it to nobody.”
Victoria Maddox entered the room.
Cole’s mother.
She had insisted on joining after Emma was safe.
“What are you talking about?”
I explained.
Her face drained of color.
“What?”
Cole noticed.
“Mom.”
Victoria sat.
“The last round wasn’t a person.”
Michael frowned.
“How do you know?”
“Because Thomas gave it to me.”
Silence.
She removed a ring from her finger.
Large emerald.
Family heirloom.
She twisted the stone.
A tiny compartment opened.
Inside was a memory card.
Cole stared.
“You’ve had that the entire time?”
“I didn’t know what it contained.”
“Thomas gave it to you?”
“Three days before he died.”
She handed it to Donnelly.
“He said if anything happened to him, give it to someone who still knew the difference between family and loyalty.”
Cole looked hurt.
“You never opened it?”
“I was afraid.”
Michael laughed bitterly.
“Everybody was afraid.”
Victoria nodded.
“Yes.”
No defense.
No excuses.
Donnelly inserted the card into an isolated laptop.
A single video file appeared.
THOMAS_LASTROUND.
My hands shook.
We played it.
Dad appeared on the screen.
Older than my happiest memories.
Tired.
Bruised.
But alive.
If you’re watching this, Raymond is still free.
My breath caught.
Dad continued.
The person who can destroy Raymond Maddox is not hidden inside the government.
Not inside the fights.
Not inside his business.
It is his sister.
Every eye turned toward Victoria.
She covered her mouth.
Dad continued.
Victoria has kept copies of every transaction Raymond forced her to authorize through Maddox Holdings.
She believes they are ordinary corporate documents.
They are not.
Raymond used her companies to purchase properties, pay corrupt officials, and transfer fighters.
Cole stared at his mother.
“You have records?”
“Twelve years of archives.”
Dad’s video continued.
Victoria, if you see this, I’m sorry.
I know what your brother did to you.
I know why you obey him.
But Cole deserves to know that fear is not the same thing as loyalty.
Victoria began crying.
Cole looked at her.
“What did he do?”
She whispered, “He killed your father.”
Cole froze.
Everything stopped again.
“My father left.”
“No.”
Victoria shook her head.
“Raymond killed him when you were five.”
Cole stared.
“You told me he abandoned us.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
It was a sentence I had heard too many times.
Families destroyed by secrets disguised as protection.
Cole stood and walked away.
I followed him outside.
He leaned against the porch railing.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
“My whole life is a lie,” he said.
“I know the feeling.”
He laughed weakly.
“Apparently.”
I stood beside him.
“My father trusted your mother.”
“Your father trusted everybody except himself.”
“He trusted you.”
Cole looked at me.
“That was his mistake.”
“No.”
He stared.
“You didn’t see me before.”
“I saw you give me an insulting choice.”
He almost smiled.
“I’m never living that down.”
“Probably not.”
His expression turned serious.
“I’ve done things Thomas would hate.”
“Then stop doing them.”
“That simple?”
“No.”
I looked toward the house.
“But starting is.”
His hand moved closer to mine.
Not touching.
Almost.
Then Donnelly came outside.
“We found Sophie.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“Old medical warehouse near Cicero.”
“Alive?”
“We think so.”
“Think?”
“Thermal imaging shows one person inside.”
Michael and Travis were already moving.
Cole took my hand.
This time I let him.
Donnelly added, “There’s one problem.”
“What?”
“The building belongs to a company controlled by Victoria.”
Cole looked toward his mother.
Donnelly’s voice lowered.
“And someone accessed the building using her security code thirty minutes ago.”
Victoria appeared in the doorway.
“That’s impossible.”
Donnelly looked at her.
“Then somebody wants us to believe you’re involved.”
A gunshot suddenly cracked from across the street.
Victoria’s body jerked.
Cole screamed.
“Mom!”
She collapsed in the doorway.
Blood spread across her shoulder.
And on the pavement beside us, a small metal object rolled to a stop.
May you like
A brass boxing glove.
Exactly like mine.
