Chapter 18 - The Truth in the Bloodline
Inside the reinforced room,
the sounds of the battle outside were muffled,
reduced to a series of dull thuds and the occasional vibration in the walls.
I sat on a pile of wool blankets,
the four children huddled around me.
Toby was sucking his thumb,
his eyes fixed on the ceiling,
while Leo and Sam sat back-to-back,
acting as a human wall for their little brother.
Maya was quiet now,
staring at me with those deep,
blue eyes—Elena’s eyes.
I looked at her and felt a sudden,
overwhelming wave of resentment.
Was she part of the plan?
Was this innocent life just another layer of the deception?
I brushed a tuft of dark hair from her forehead,
and as I did,
I noticed a small,
circular birthmark behind her ear.
It was the exact same shape as the one James had.
The exact same shape as the one Leo had.
The realization hit me like a physical blow,
staling the breath from my lungs.
"No,"
I whispered,
my heart stopping.
"Oh,
God,
no."
I pulled out the letter from Elena,
reading the lines again with new,
horrified eyes.
He doesn't know about her,
and he can never know.
His name is Julian Vane.
She hadn't said Julian was the father.
She had said Julian was a man who would take her.
She had said Julian was the danger.
I thought about the timeline.
The "business trips" James took four years ago.
The times he stayed late.
The way he had insisted on keeping the box in the garage,
not as a favor to a sister,
but as a connection to a child.
The "cousin" wasn't a cousin at all.
Maya wasn't Julian Vane’s daughter.
She was James’s.
The betrayal I had felt before was a candle flame compared to the inferno that now consumed me.
He hadn't just lied about his sister being alive.
He had lied about an affair.
He had lied about the very blood that ran through this baby’s veins.
The "daughter I always wanted" wasn't a gift from God or a twist of fate.
She was the evidence of my husband’s infidelity,
wrapped in a pink blanket and delivered to my doorstep under the guise of a tragedy.
I felt a scream building in my throat,
a raw,
primal sound of agony,
but I forced it down for the sake of the boys.
They didn't know.
They thought their father was a hero.
They thought they were protecting a cousin.
How could I tell them that their entire world was a house of cards built on a foundation of adultery and lies?
Suddenly,
the steel door groaned.
Something heavy had hit the other side.
I heard the sound of shouting—Mark’s voice,
ragged and desperate.
"Sarah!
Get out!
The vents!"
The room began to fill with a sweet,
sickly smell.
Gas.
Julian wasn't trying to shoot his way in anymore.
He was trying to flush us out.
I grabbed a wet cloth and pressed it over Toby’s face,
then gave one to Leo and Sam.
"Breathe through these!"
I commanded.
I looked up at the small ventilation shaft near the ceiling.
It was too small for me,
but the boys could fit.
"Leo,
climb up there,"
I said,
my voice tight.
"Take Sam and Toby."
"There’s a hatch that leads to the roof."
"You run as fast as you can toward the trees."
"Don't look back."
"What about you,
Mom?"
Leo asked,
his eyes wide with terror.
"I’m right behind you,"
I lied.
"I just have to get the baby."
I helped them up,
one by one,
watching as my three beautiful boys disappeared into the dark metal shaft.
When they were gone,
I turned to Maya.
She was looking at me,
completely unaware that she was the living proof of my husband's betrayal.
I should have hated her.
I should have left her there and followed my sons.
But as the gas began to burn my throat,
I realized that she was innocent.
She was a victim of James and Elena just as much as I was.
I tucked her into my jacket,
zipping it up tight against my chest.
I didn't go for the vent.
I went for the door.
If Julian Vane wanted the "key,"
he was going to have to take it from a woman who had nothing left to lose.
I grabbed the pistol Mark had given me and stood in front of the steel door,
waiting for it to open.
I wasn't a mother anymore.
May you like
I wasn't a wife.
I was a storm.
