CHAPTER 11 — MY FATHER’S CONFESSION
Celeste Holloway entered the federal interview room wearing a navy suit and pearl earrings.
She looked composed enough to attend another charity dinner.
Her attorney placed three recording devices on the table.
The first captured my father’s voice eighteen years earlier.
“Helena remains hidden until the network is dismantled.”
Thomas answered.
“And Mara?”
“She must believe her mother is dead.”
The second recording was made six years later.
My father sounded exhausted.
“You promised Helena would be released.”
A younger Celeste replied.
“She will be released when we recover every copy.”
The final recording was nine months old.
My father’s voice again.
“If Mara learns the truth, I will destroy all of you.”
Celeste folded her hands.
“Elias Vale knew Helena was alive.”
My father stood behind me.
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
I turned toward him.
“You told me you thought she died.”
“I thought she died after the first year.”
“But the later recordings—”
“Were made after Celeste sent me proof she was alive again.”
“You knew nine months ago?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was trying to locate her.”
“You could have told me.”
“I could not risk you confronting them.”
“You do not get to decide how much truth I can survive.”
His shoulders lowered.
“No. I don’t.”
Celeste watched us with quiet satisfaction.
I faced her.
“You imprisoned my mother.”
“I prevented Malcolm from killing her.”
“For eighteen years?”
“I needed Helena’s archive.”
“You needed leverage.”
“In our world, they are the same thing.”
“No. They are only the same to people like you.”
Celeste’s smile disappeared.
Federal prosecutors entered with additional warrants. Malcolm Holloway had been arrested at his estate. Several politicians had attempted to leave the country.
Celeste was charged with kidnapping, conspiracy, obstruction, and financial crimes.
My father was not arrested.
Not yet.
His attorneys argued he had acted under coercion and repeatedly attempted to recover Helena.
I refused to defend him.
My mother was taken to a private hospital under federal protection.
Before leaving the museum, I visited Thomas in the temporary holding area.
He sat with his wrists cuffed to the table.
“You saved my mother,” I said.
“Once.”
“Then you helped imprison her.”
“I believed I could use the Holloways to expose the network.”
“You became part of it.”
Thomas looked down.
“Yes.”
It was the first honest answer he had given me.
I turned to leave.
“Mara.”
I stopped.
“The recordings Celeste brought are real,” he said. “But they are incomplete.”
“What is missing?”
“Your father did more than negotiate.”
I faced him again.
Thomas leaned closer.
“Elias paid someone to kill Malcolm Holloway twelve years ago.”
“Malcolm is alive.”
“The assassin failed.”
“Who did he hire?”
Thomas’s eyes shifted toward the observation window.
Adrian Cole stood on the other side.
May you like
Thomas whispered one name.
“Adrian.”
