Chapter 10
last update2025-12-01 15:52:06

I couldn't stop thinking about that text message. Someone knew something about Mom's death. But who? And why contact me now?

"We should trace the number," Henry suggested on the drive home. "Find out who sent it."

"Do that," I said. "But I want to meet them."

"Young master, that could be dangerous—"

"I don't care. If they know something about my mom, I need to hear it."

Henry sighed. "Very well. But I'm coming with you, and we're bringing security."

When I got home, Lily ran up to me, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Brother! Brother! Look what I drew at school!"

She held up a crayon drawing of two stick figures—one tall, one small—holding hands.

"That's us," she explained proudly.

My heart melted. "It's beautiful. We'll put it on the refrigerator."

She beamed and ran off to show Henry.

Later that evening, after Lily was asleep, I sat in my grandfather's study. Henry had given me access to all of Richard's personal files.

I pulled out a folder labeled "Sarah"—my mother's name.

Inside were photos I'd never seen before. Mom as a little girl, smiling and carefree. Mom as a teenager, standing between Richard and a woman who must have been my grandmother.

There were also documents. Medical records. Investigation reports. Police files.

I read through them carefully.

According to the reports, Mom had disappeared one night after attending a charity event. She was twenty-one. When they found her three months later, she was living on the streets with no memory of who she was or how she got there.

The doctors concluded it was amnesia caused by head trauma. They assumed she'd been mugged and hit in the head.

But now... that text message suggested something different.

I kept reading.

There was a note in Richard's handwriting: "Sarah's symptoms are consistent with poisoning, not trauma. But by the time we found her, it was too late to test. No evidence."

Poisoning. Someone had poisoned my mother.

My hands clenched into fists. Who would do that? And why?

My phone buzzed. Another message from the same unknown number:

"Tomorrow night. 8 PM. Riverside Park, north entrance. Come alone, or you'll never know the truth."

I typed back: "How do I know this isn't a trap?"

The response came quickly: "You don't. But your mother deserves justice. Don't you want to give her that?"

I stared at the message for a long time.

Finally, I typed: "I'll be there."

The next day dragged by slowly. I went to class, but I couldn't focus. All I could think about was the meeting tonight.

At lunch, my friends noticed something was wrong.

"You okay?" Liam asked. "You've barely said a word."

"Just tired," I lied. "Didn't sleep well."

"Well, wake up," Alex said, grinning. "Brandon's been following you around like a lost puppy. It's hilarious."

I glanced over and, sure enough, Brandon was standing a few feet away, waiting for instructions.

"Master," he said when I looked at him. "Do you need anything?"

The other students stared. Some pulled out their phones to record.

"Brandon Mitchell is really his slave?"

"This is insane."

"I can't believe what I'm seeing."

"No thanks," I told Brandon. "You can go."

He nodded and walked away, his face red with embarrassment.

"How long are you going to keep him as your servant?" Ryan asked.

"As long as it takes for him to learn some humility," I said.

That evening, I told Henry I needed to go out.

"Where?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just... out. I need some air."

"Young master, after that message yesterday, I don't think—"

"I'll be fine," I insisted. "I just need to clear my head."

Henry didn't look convinced, but he didn't stop me either.

I took one of the cars from the garage—a simple black sedan that wouldn't draw attention—and drove to Riverside Park.

The north entrance was quiet this time of evening. A few joggers passed by, but otherwise, the park was empty.

I sat on a bench and waited.

At exactly 8 PM, a woman approached. She wore a dark coat and a hat pulled low over her face.

"Ethan Blackwell?" she asked.

"Yes. Who are you?"

She sat down next to me, glancing around nervously. "My name is Dr. Rachel Chen. I was your mother's doctor when she was first found."

I tensed. "You know something about what happened to her?"

"Yes. But first, I need to know—how much has the Blackwell family told you about her disappearance?"

"That she went missing after a charity event. That she was found three months later with amnesia. That they assumed it was from head trauma."

Dr. Chen shook her head. "That's what they wanted people to believe. But it wasn't head trauma."

"It was poisoning," I said.

She looked surprised. "You know?"

"My grandfather suspected it. But he couldn't prove it."

"That's because I destroyed the evidence," Dr. Chen said quietly.

I stared at her. "What?"

"I was young and scared," she said, her voice shaking. "Someone threatened me. Said if I revealed what I'd found in your mother's bloodwork, they'd kill me and my family. So I... I falsified the reports. Made it look like amnesia from trauma instead of poisoning."

My fists clenched. "Who? Who threatened you?"

"I don't know her real name. But I saw her once, visiting your mother in the hospital. She was elegant, well-dressed. She told me she was family, but... the way she looked at your mother. There was no love there. Only hatred."

My blood ran cold. "What did she look like?"

"Beautiful. Cold eyes. Dark hair. She wore expensive jewelry."

Victoria. It had to be Victoria Pierce.

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked.

"Because I've lived with the guilt for nineteen years," Dr. Chen said. "And because I heard you're now the head of the Blackwell family. You have the power to get justice for your mother. I want to help."

She pulled out a small envelope and handed it to me. "This is a copy of the original bloodwork results. I kept them all these years, hidden. It proves your mother was poisoned."

I took the envelope with shaking hands. "Thank you."

"Be careful," Dr. Chen warned. "Whoever did this is dangerous. They've gotten away with it for nearly twenty years. They won't give up easily."

She stood and started to walk away.

"Dr. Chen," I called after her. "Why did they do it? Why poison my mother?"

She turned back, her face sad. "I don't know for certain. But I heard rumors... that your mother was pregnant when she disappeared. If someone wanted to prevent her from having that child, poison that caused brain damage would be a way to... eliminate the problem without actually killing her."

My hands shook. They'd poisoned her because of me. Because she was pregnant with me.

Victoria Pierce had tried to erase me before I was even born.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Chen said softly. "I'm so sorry I didn't help sooner."

Then she disappeared into the darkness.

I sat there for a long time, holding the envelope.

Evidence. Finally, I had evidence.

Victoria Pierce had destroyed my mother's life. Had poisoned her, leaving her with brain damage and amnesia.

And now I was going to destroy hers.

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