Chapter 6 - Patricia Reed
Mason’s mother Patricia had died nine years earlier.
That part was real.
Cancer.
Verified.
No resurrection.
But fifteen years ago, Patricia discovered Victor and Richard were hiding financial crimes from each other.
She feared Victor would go to prison.
So she entered the Mercer guesthouse looking for Caleb’s copied files.
Daniel was with him.
Caleb confronted her.
They argued.
Patricia grabbed a folder.
Caleb tried taking it back.
The portable heater fell.
Curtain ignited.
Within seconds, the room filled with smoke.
Patricia escaped through the rear door.
Caleb and Daniel were trapped longer.
She called Victor.
Not 911.
Victor called firefighters anonymously.
That delay could have killed both boys.
Mason stared at his father.
“You knew Mom did it?”
“Afterward.”
“You told me Richard sent someone.”
“I lied.”
Mason stood.
Sarah told him to sit.
He did.
Barely.
Victor continued.
Patricia spent the rest of her life carrying guilt.
Why was she never charged?
Richard saw opportunity.
He told Victor:
Stay silent about my fraud and I stay silent about Patricia.
Mutual destruction.
The families buried everything.
Caleb refused.
That was why Richard hid him after the fire.
He wanted his own son quiet.
Then Caleb escaped the clinic.
Where?
Victor believed a nurse helped.
Name:
Ruth Callahan.
Sarah found her.
Retired.
Living in Vermont.
She remembered Caleb.
She helped him leave because he was terrified of his father.
“He said Mr. Mercer was going to send him away.”
Where did Caleb go?
Ruth drove him to a bus station.
Destination:
New York.
He had cash.
One backpack.
No identification.
Then vanished.
“Was he badly injured?”
“Burns on one arm. Smoke damage. But walking.”
So Caleb had survived.
At least that night.
Then we opened the blue room.
Both keys turned simultaneously.
Inside:
Nothing dramatic.
Desk.
Metal cabinet.
Old computer.
Three sealed banker boxes.
One wall covered with architectural plans.
The first box contained Mercer-Reed financial records.
Evidence against Richard.
Evidence against Victor.
Evidence Patricia forged invoices too.
Caleb had copied everything.
The second box contained family documents.
Birth certificates.
Letters.
Photographs.
One caught my eye.
Richard.
Diane.
A baby.
Not me.
Not Caleb.
Label:
ANNA — 1993.
I was born in 1994.
Mom had never mentioned another child.
Mason watched me.
“Emma…”
“No.”
Not another invented sibling claim.
We checked.
Anna Mercer was real.
Born seventeen months before me.
Died at six weeks from a congenital heart condition.
Verified.
No hidden adult.
No conspiracy.
Just a sister my parents never discussed because grief hurt.
For once, dead meant dead.
Then I opened the third box.
One envelope.
FOR EMMA.
Caleb’s handwriting.
Inside:
If Mason Reed ever tells you he is your brother, he is lying.
I turned slowly.
May you like
Mason went white.
Caleb had predicted this exact lie fifteen years earlier.
