Chapter 8: The Price of the Truth
The picture was blurry.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Not the rope around my father's wrists.
Not the fear in his eyes.
Not the handwritten note behind him.
The picture quality.
A tiny, meaningless detail.
My mind grabbed onto it because everything else was too much.
Because if I focused on the blur, I didn't have to focus on the fact that someone had my father.
Someone had taken the man who spent my entire childhood telling me to be stronger than everyone else.
Someone had tied him to a chair.
And someone wanted me to know.
"Claire.""
Adrian's voice was steady.
Too steady.
I hated that I needed his calm.
I hated that my hands were shaking while his weren't.
"Send me the photo.""
I looked at him.
"What?""
"Send it to me.""
I did.
His phone buzzed.
He studied the image carefully.
"Can you trace the number?""
Martin asked.
Adrian shook his head.
"Not immediately.""
"Not immediately?""
His eyes remained on the screen.
"They want us to panic.""
I looked at him.
"They have my father.""
"Exactly.""
The way he said it made me stop.
Because he wasn't ignoring the danger.
He was looking for the reason behind it.
"They don't just want Claire's notebook," Adrian continued.
Martin frowned.
"Then what do they want?""
Adrian looked at me.
"They want Claire to make a choice.""
I felt cold.
"What choice?""
He didn't answer.
Because another notification appeared.
This time, it wasn't from my father's number.
It was from an unknown account.
A video.
My finger hovered over it.
Adrian reached for my hand.
"Wait.""
I looked at him.
"That's my father.""
"I know.""
"Then why are you stopping me?""
"Because whoever sent it wants you to react before you think.""
I stared at him.
For one second, I wanted to argue.
I wanted to tell him that thinking was a luxury I didn't have.
But then I remembered something.
Every person who had hurt me had counted on my emotions.
Sloane counted on my anger.
Olivia counted on my fear.
Rachel counted on my trust.
So I waited.
Adrian connected his laptop to the phone.
The video opened.
My father appeared on screen.
Same room.
Same chair.
But this time he was awake.
"Claire.""
His voice broke.
I covered my mouth.
"Please don't blame yourself.""
My eyes burned.
Because that was exactly what I was doing.
The camera moved.
Someone behind it spoke.
A woman's voice.
Calm.
Controlled.
Familiar.
My stomach dropped.
No.
It couldn't be.
"Mr. Bennett, tell your daughter what you did.""
My father closed his eyes.
The woman continued.
"Tell her why she is in this position.""
"Dad?""
I whispered the word even though he couldn't hear me.
My father looked at the camera.
"Claire...""
His face was full of regret.
"I should have told you.""
The woman behind the camera stepped closer.
"Tell her.""
My father swallowed.
"Six months ago, I found your notebook.""
I froze.
Adrian looked at me.
Martin looked away.
My father continued.
"I knew it was important.""
The room felt smaller.
"I knew those ideas were special.""
My hands tightened.
"Then why?""
My father's eyes filled with shame.
"Because I thought I could protect you.""
I almost laughed.
Everyone used the same excuse.
Protection.
Help.
Opportunity.
Different words.
Same damage.
The woman spoke again.
"And?""
My father looked down.
"And I gave copies to someone I trusted.""
My heartbeat stopped.
"Who?""
I leaned closer to the screen.
My father's voice became barely audible.
"Rachel.""
The room went silent.
I closed my eyes.
Even though I knew Rachel had betrayed me, hearing it from my father made it real.
The video continued.
My father looked directly into the camera.
"Claire, I made a mistake.""
The woman interrupted.
"Not enough.""
My father flinched.
Then she said:
"Tell her the rest.""
He shook his head.
"No.""
The woman sighed.
"Then I'll do it.""
The camera turned slightly.
But the woman stayed out of frame.
"You think Rachel was the beginning.""
My blood ran cold.
"But she wasn't.""
Adrian stepped closer to the screen.
"Who are you?""
The woman ignored him.
"Claire, your father didn't steal your work because he wanted money.""
I looked at the screen.
"Then why?""
The woman laughed softly.
"Because he knew what would happen if the wrong people found it.""
My father's face changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
The woman continued.
"Your father wasn't the villain.""
A pause.
"He was the first person who tried to stop this.""
I stared.
"What?""
Adrian looked at me.
The same confusion was on his face.
The woman continued.
"But he failed.""
The video ended.
No goodbye.
No warning.
Just black screen.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Martin whispered:
"Who was she?""
Adrian replayed the audio.
Listening.
Analyzing.
Then he stopped.
"I know that voice.""
My heart tightened.
"Who?""
He looked at me.
And for the first time since I met him, Adrian looked afraid.
"Olivia.""
I shook my head.
"No.""
"Claire.""
"No.""
Because that didn't make sense.
Olivia was manipulating us.
Threatening us.
But the woman in the video sounded different.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Almost like she believed she was saving me.
Adrian looked at the screen again.
"It's not Olivia.""
I froze.
"What?""
He shook his head.
"I was wrong.""
A silence followed.
"Then who is it?""
Adrian didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
And that scared me more.
My phone rang.
This time, my father's number.
I answered instantly.
"Dad?""
A man's voice replied.
Not my father.
"Good.""
I froze.
"Who is this?""
"You found the video.""
My grip tightened.
"Where is my father?""
"Safe.""
I almost laughed.
"Safe?""
The person ignored me.
"You have twenty-four hours.""
"For what?""
A pause.
Then:
"Bring the original notebook to the old Bennett factory.""
My chest tightened.
The factory.
My grandfather's old manufacturing building.
It had been abandoned for years.
"Why?""
"Because that's where this started.""
I looked at Adrian.
He heard everything.
"And if I don't?""
The voice became colder.
"Then your father pays for your choices.""
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Adrian immediately spoke.
"We're not going.""
I looked at him.
"What?""
"It's a trap.""
"Yes.""
"Then why are you saying that like you're going?""
Because I knew.
I hated it.
But I knew.
"Because my father is there.""
Adrian stepped closer.
"And if they want you there, they want something else.""
I looked down at the notebook.
The thing everyone had been fighting over.
The thing that had destroyed friendships.
Broken trust.
Changed my life.
Maybe it was never about the ideas.
Maybe it was about what those ideas proved.
"I need to know the truth.""
Adrian shook his head.
"Truth doesn't matter if you don't survive long enough to tell it.""
I looked at him.
"Then help me survive.""
The words surprised both of us.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Adrian nodded.
"Okay.""
Martin stepped forward.
"I'm coming too.""
I looked at him.
After everything.
After the lies.
After the secrets.
"You don't have to.""
He nodded.
"I know.""
A pause.
"But I should.""
I looked away.
Because forgiveness wasn't something I was ready to give.
But maybe this was the first step.
Adrian picked up the notebook.
"We go prepared.""
He looked at me.
"And we don't tell anyone.""
My phone buzzed.
Another message.
This time, from the unknown number.
A photo.
My blood froze.
It was a picture of us.
Standing inside Harbor House.
Taken less than a minute ago.
The message below was simple.
*You should have listened.*
I looked toward the restaurant windows.
The parking lot outside was empty.
The street was quiet.
But someone had been watching.
Someone was still watching.
And then Adrian noticed something in the reflection of the glass.
A figure standing across the street.
Watching us.
He immediately moved toward the door.
But the figure was already gone.
Only one thing remained.
A small envelope placed beneath Adrian's windshield.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
May you like
Five words.
*Ask Claire about her mother.*
