Chapter 7 - Geneva
Amara did not go to Geneva alone.
Ruiz came.
Vincent came.
And despite every federal order telling Ruiz to stand down, three agents he trusted came too.
On the plane, Vincent sat across from Amara.
She had barely spoken to him.
Finally he said:
“You have every right to hate me.”
“I don’t know you well enough to hate you.”
That hurt him.
Good.
“Why stay dead?” she asked.
“Because Crane controlled people everywhere. Banks. Police. Courts.”
“So you hid.”
“I tried to rebuild evidence.”
“For twenty years?”
Vincent looked ashamed.
“I thought you were dead for twelve of them.”
“And after?”
“I found your adoption under another name.”
Amara turned toward the window.
“You could have called.”
“Yes.”
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Vincent was quiet.
Then:
“Because the first person who found you after I did was Eleanor.”
Amara turned.
“What?”
“She knew where you lived.”
Her blood chilled.
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
Amara thought back.
College.
The apartment fire.
The brakes failing on her first car.
The stranger who followed her home one night.
All incidents she had dismissed.
“You’re saying she tried to kill me?”
“No.”
Vincent looked disturbed.
“That’s what confused me.”
“What did she do?”
“She protected you.”
Amara stared.
“Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I never knew.”
Amara’s phone buzzed.
A video call.
Julian.
She answered.
His face appeared.
Bruised.
Terrified.
“Amara.”
“Julian.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
“Know what?”
“That you’re my sister.”
Neither knew what to say.
Then Julian whispered:
“Don’t come here.”
Amara glanced at Ruiz.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
Lang appeared behind Julian.
He smiled into the camera.
“Hello, Amara.”
Ruiz leaned closer.
“Lang.”
“You always were persistent.”
“Let them go.”
Lang laughed.
“No.”
He looked at Amara.
“We need your signature.”
“For what?”
“The trust.”
“I’m not signing anything.”
“I assumed you’d say that.”
He stepped aside.
Eleanor was visible in the background.
Then someone else was pushed into frame.
Amara stopped breathing.
A woman.
Older.
Dark hair streaked with gray.
Vincent stood so quickly his seat belt snapped tight.
“No.”
The woman looked into the camera.
“Vincent?”
His face collapsed.
Amara looked between them.
“Who is she?”
Vincent whispered:
“My sister.”
Lang smiled.
“Not quite.”
He put a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“This is Amara’s biological mother.”
Amara stared at Eleanor’s image.
Then at the woman.
“What?”
Lang’s smile widened.
“Eleanor didn’t give birth to you.”
And suddenly the birth certificate meant nothing.
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
May you like
If you enjoyed the story, bookmark my site: https://vibe.treeiq.biz
New stories are posted daily, so check back for updates.
