THE SON THEY BURIED WAS THEIR ONLY HEIR

Chapter Fifty Nine: The Woman Who Knew

The name stuck with Benedict even after they had moved away from the river.

Margaret Vale.

As they headed back to Aurelia, he quietly repeated it to himself, lost in thought, while Damian took the wheel.

The woman in the photograph had disappeared twenty-five years ago.

The kid who was missing had vanished at the same time too.

Someone had just warned another person that it was time to move Adrian to a different place.

Benedict stared through the window.

“They're going to move him.”

Damian kept his eyes on the road.

“Yes.”

“We don't have much time.”

“We don't even know where he is.”

“We know someone was protecting him.”

“Margaret.”

Benedict nodded.

“If we find her, we find the trail.”

Damian glanced at him.

“And if she refuses to talk?”

Benedict looked down at the photograph.

“Then we'll have to find another way.”

Eleanor was sitting in the back seat, watching the two men, but they didn't even notice her.

She hadn't said a word since they walked away from the river.

Too silent.

Damian finally looked at her through the mirror.

“Mother.”

She didn't respond.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“You're lying.”

Eleanor looked toward the window.

“I remembered something.”

Benedict turned.

“What?”

“The name Margaret Vale.”

Damian frowned.

“You knew her?”

“I knew of her.”

Benedict gave a humorless smile.

“Everyone knew of her except me.”

Eleanor looked at him.

“That's not true.”

“Then tell me.”

She hesitated.

“Margaret wasn't simply an employee.”

“What was she?”

“She was your grandfather's private secretary.”

Damian's eyes narrowed.

“That sounds ordinary.”

“It wasn't.”

Eleanor lowered her voice.

“She handled his personal records.”

Benedict became still.

“Which records?”

“Family records.”

“Births?”

“Yes.”

“Deaths?”

“Yes.”

“Transfers?”

“Yes.”

“Succession?”

Eleanor nodded.

Benedict looked at Damian.

“Then she could have changed the records.”

Eleanor shook her head.

“She didn't have the authority.”

“But she had access.”

“Yes.”

“And she disappeared.”

“Yes.”

Damian's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“Why?”

Eleanor looked down.

“Because she knew too much.”

They returned to Ashcroft Manor shortly before midnight.

Victor was waiting in the library.

He was standing by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand, but he hadn't taken a sip.

The moment Benedict entered, Victor looked up.

“You went to the river.”

It wasn't a question.

Damian stopped.

“How did you know?”

Victor's expression remained unreadable.

“I know where that road leads.”

Benedict walked toward him.

“We found a name.”

Victor's fingers tightened around the glass.

“Whose?”

“Margaret Vale.”

The glass nearly slipped from Victor's hand.

Benedict noticed.

“You know her.”

Victor recovered quickly.

“I knew of her.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

Benedict placed the photograph on the table.

Victor looked at it.

His face changed.

“She shouldn't have been there.”

Damian frowned.

“Where?”

“At the river.”

Benedict stared at him.

“You knew she was there?”

Victor didn't answer.

"Come on, Dad," Damian said, "how many times do we have to pry the truth out of you?"

Victor looked at his son.

“I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“The truth.”

Damian shook his head.

“No. You were protecting yourself.”

Victor looked away.

Benedict picked up the photograph.

“Who is the man beside Margaret?”

Victor's eyes remained on the image.

“I don't know.”

“You're lying.”

“I don't know who he became.”

Benedict stopped.

“What does that mean?”

Victor looked at him.

“I knew the child.”

Silence.

Damian stared.

“You said you never saw him.”

"I never saw him again after that night."

Benedict's voice dropped.

“You saw him before.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

Victor swallowed.

“At the manor.”

Benedict froze.

“My brother was at Ashcroft Manor?”

“For a short time.”

“Why?”

“Your grandfather wanted to examine him.”

Benedict's expression hardened.

“Examine him?”

Victor nodded.

“He wanted to know whether the child's blood could be legally connected to the Vandross inheritance.”

Damian looked horrified.

You're speaking about a kid as if they're something you own.

Victor's voice became defensive.

“You don't understand the world your grandfather lived in.”

“No,” Damian replied. “ I understand it perfectly.”

Benedict stepped closer.

“What happened after the examination?”

Victor looked at him.

Your grandfather told Margaret to take the kid away.

“Where?”

“I don't know.”

“Why Margaret?”

“Because he trusted her.”

Benedict stared at him.

“And then?”

“Evelyn came for the child.”

Benedict's breathing slowed.

“She knew where he was.”

“Yes.”

“And she tried to take him.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to Evelyn?”

Victor looked away.

“I don't know.”

“Who does?”

Victor remained silent.

Benedict's voice hardened.

“Who?”

Victor finally answered.

“Margaret.”

Damian was sitting in the intelligence room at Ashcroft the next morning.

A map of Aurelia covered the main screen.

He had gone through and marked down every single place that was linked to the old files.

Ashcroft Manor.

The river.

The old train station.

The private institution Victor had mentioned.

And now Margaret Vale.

Benedict entered.

“Anything?”

Damian shook his head.

“Her official records stopped twenty-five years ago.”

“Family?”

“None listed.”

“Properties?”

“Nothing under her name.”

“Bank accounts?”

“Closed.”

“Employment?”

“Terminated.”

Benedict studied the screen.

“She disappeared completely.”

Damian nodded.

“Too completely.”

“What do you mean?”

“People leave traces.”

Benedict looked at him.

“Not if someone erases them.”

Damian turned toward another screen.

“There is one thing.”

“What?”

“An old hospital record.”

Benedict walked closer.

“Margaret Vale?”

“No.”

Damian enlarged the file.

A child, whose name was not given, was taken to a private clinic about twenty-five years ago.

Benedict stared at the screen.

“When?”

“Three days after the river accident.”

“Age?”

“Approximately six.”

His eyes hardened.

“Where?”

Damian pointed to the address.

Aurelia Children's Recovery Center.

Benedict immediately recognized the name.

“That place closed years ago.”

“Yes.”

“Who owned it?”

Damian opened the corporate records.

His expression changed.

“That's interesting.”

“What?”

The clinic got its money from a charity set up by Ashcroft.

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

“Grandfather.”

“Possibly.”

Damian continued reading.

“But there's another donor.”

“Who?”

Damian looked up.

“Vandross Foundation.”

Silence.

Benedict stared at the screen.

“The two families funded the same institution.”

“Yes.”

The child was taken to the hospital three days after they got hurt.

“Yes.”

Benedict's mind raced.

“That wasn't an accident.”

Damian frowned.

“What?”

“The institution wasn't chosen afterward.”

Benedict pointed at the screen.

“It was prepared beforehand.”

Damian understood.

It seems like someone had already figured out that the kid was going to need a place to stay.

Benedict nodded.

“And Margaret knew.”

A new alert appeared.

Damian opened it.

A property record had just been accessed.

“Someone is searching the same database.”

“Who?”

“Unknown.”

“Can you trace it?”

Damian typed rapidly.

The system returned an address.

He stared.

“No.”

Benedict looked at him.

“What?”

There's been a breach in security at Ashcroft Group, with someone gaining access to the old clinic's records from within the organization.

Benedict's expression hardened.

“Who?”

Damian opened the access log.

A name appeared.

His face went pale.

“Father.”

Benedict looked at the screen.

Victor's credentials had been used.

Victor was actually standing right there in the room with them.

Damian slowly turned.

Victor wasn't there.

The door behind them was open.

Benedict immediately moved toward it.

“Where did he go?”

Damian checked his phone.

Victor had sent a message.

Only four words.

Don't follow me.

Benedict stared at the screen.

Then another message arrived.

I know where Margaret is.

Damian looked at him.

“What are we waiting for?”

Benedict's eyes hardened.

They left the room.

The two men didn't see the security camera watching them in the hallway.

A live feed captured the moment Victor walked into an underground parking garage.

He approached a black vehicle.

Someone was already waiting inside.

Victor opened the passenger door.

The driver looked at him.

Victor said only one thing.

“Take me to Margaret.”

The driver started the engine.

As the car vanished into the darkness, another message popped up on Damian's phone.

Not from Victor.

From an unknown number.

IF YOU FOLLOW HIM, BENEDICT DIES.

Damian stopped walking.

Benedict looked back.

“What happened?”

Damian slowly raised his phone.

And for the first time, it crossed his mind that maybe Victor had been trying to shield them all along.

or guiding them to a specific destination, perhaps one that was intentionally chosen by someone else.

Damian stared at the message.

IF YOU FOLLOW HIM, BENEDICT DIES.

His thumb hovered over the screen.

Benedict watched him.

“What did they say?”

Damian hesitated.

Then showed him.

Benedict read the message once.

His expression didn't change.

“It's a threat.”

“You think?”

“It could also be a warning.”

Damian looked at him.

"You can't be serious, letting my dad just vanish with the one person who knows the truth about what went down twenty-five years ago?"

“No.”

Benedict turned toward the elevator.

“We follow him.”

Damian followed.

“You just said it could be a warning.”

“It is.”

“Then why follow him?”

The person who sent it wants us to think you're the one they're after.

Damian stopped.

Benedict looked back.

So if Victor is really talking to Margaret, then he's the one who has the information we're looking for.

Damian understood.

“You think they're watching us.”

“I know they are.”

“Then we'll make them think we're not following.”

Benedict smiled faintly.

“Now you're thinking like your grandfather.”

Damian's expression hardened.

“I'll take that as an insult.”

“It was.”

The garage was nearly empty.

Damian waited until the security gate opened.

Then he drove out.

Benedict sat beside him.

They maintained a distance of three cars between their own vehicles and Victor's.

No direct pursuit.

No sudden turns.

No obvious pattern.

Ten minutes passed, and then Victor's vehicle turned off the main road.

Damian frowned.

“That's not toward the old clinic.”

“No.”

“Where is he going?”

Benedict studied the road signs.

“North.”

Damian checked the map.

“There are warehouses there.”

“Old industrial district.”

“Nothing connected to Margaret.”

“Maybe that's the point.”

They continued.

Victor's vehicle eventually stopped outside an abandoned building.

Damian parked several streets away.

Benedict opened the door.

“I'll go.”

Damian shook his head.

“Together.”

“No.”

“Why?”

"If we're walking into a trap, having two people go in makes it a bit easier to handle, don't you think?"

Damian stared at him.

“You're not walking into a trap alone.”

Benedict looked at him.

“I've spent twenty-five years surviving people who wanted me dead.”

I don't want to see you do that again.

For a moment, Benedict said nothing.

Then he nodded.

“Stay behind me.”

They approached the building.

The main entrance was unlocked.

Inside, darkness covered the empty warehouse.

Damian heard a faint voice.

Victor.

“This is what you wanted?”

Another voice answered.

An older woman.

“Not exactly.”

Benedict froze.

“Margaret.”

They moved closer.

A lone light shone down in the middle of the warehouse.

Victor stood beside an old wooden table.

There was a woman, probably in her sixties, sitting across from him.

Her hair was gray.

Her posture was straight.

She had a ring on her finger, and it had a special geometric symbol on it.

Damian whispered,

“That's her.”

Benedict stepped forward.

“Margaret Vale.”

The woman turned.

Her eyes widened.

For several seconds, she simply stared at him.

Then she whispered,

“Adrian.”

Benedict froze.

Damian looked at him.

Margaret covered her mouth.

“Oh, God.”

Benedict's voice was barely audible.

“You know me.”

Margaret's eyes filled with tears.

“I knew you before they took you.”

Benedict took another step.

“Who am I?”

Margaret looked at Victor.

Then back at him.

“You were the child they wanted erased.”

“That's not an answer.”

“No.”

Margaret shook her head.

“It isn't.”

Benedict's voice hardened.

“Then give me one.”

Margaret looked at him carefully.

“You are Benedict Vandross.”

“Yes.”

That wasn't the name you were given when you were born.

Damian's heart began pounding.

“What was his name?”

Margaret's eyes moved to him.

“Adrian.”

Benedict closed his eyes.

The name struck something inside him.

Not a memory.

A feeling.

A piece of my childhood, hidden away for years, locked behind a wall of silence.

Margaret continued.

“Your mother called you Adrian.”

Benedict opened his eyes.

“Why was I given another name?”

Margaret looked toward Victor.

“Because your grandfather wanted the Vandross bloodline erased.”

Victor's face tightened.

“Margaret.”

“No.”

She turned toward him.

“You have hidden long enough.”

Benedict looked between them.

“What happened to my mother?”

Margaret lowered her head.

“She survived the river.”

Benedict stopped breathing.

“You know that?”

“I was there.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don't know.”

“Then how do you know she survived?”

Margaret's eyes filled with tears.

“Because I spoke to her.”

“When?”

“Three days after the accident.”

Benedict stepped forward.

“Where?”

“She contacted me from a private clinic.”

Damian remembered the records.

“The Aurelia Children's Recovery Center.”

Margaret looked at him.

“Yes.”

Benedict stared.

“Why was she there?”

“Because she was injured.”

“And the child?”

Margaret looked away.

“Which child?”

Benedict's face tightened.

“The boy in the photograph.”

Margaret went silent.

Damian stepped forward.

“We know he existed.”

“Yes.”

“Who was he?”

Margaret looked directly at Benedict.

“Your brother.”

The words hung in the warehouse.

Benedict's jaw tightened.

“His name.”

Margaret hesitated.

“Adrian.”

Damian frowned.

“Wait.”

Benedict looked at him.

“The child in the photograph was called Adrian.”

Margaret nodded.

“Yes.”

“But you just called Benedict Adrian.”

Margaret's expression became sorrowful.

“Because that was the point.”

Damian stared.

“What point?”

Margaret answered quietly.

“Two children were given the same name.”

Silence.

Benedict's face changed.

“Why?”

“To confuse anyone who searched the records.”

Damian understood.

“Your grandfather created two identities.”

Margaret nodded.

“One for the real heir.”

“And the other?”

Margaret looked at Benedict.

So they wanted to keep it a secret about which kid had made it through.

Benedict's breathing slowed.

“Then who was I?”

Margaret looked at him.

“You were the older child.”

Benedict froze.

Damian stared.

“Older?”

Margaret nodded.

“Evelyn had two sons.”

Benedict's eyes widened.

“My mother had two children?”

“Yes.”

“And both were connected to the Ashcroft bloodline?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did everyone think there was only one?”

Margaret looked toward Victor.

“Because your grandfather made sure there would only be one name in the records.”

Victor lowered his head.

Benedict stepped toward him.

“You knew.”

Victor's voice broke.

“I knew there were two children.”

“You knew all along.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

By the time I figured out what my grandfather was up to, it was already too late.

Benedict's eyes hardened.

“Too late for what?”

Victor looked at Margaret.

Margaret answered.

“Your grandfather ordered us to separate the boys.”

Damian felt a chill.

“Why?”

“Because one child carried the legal succession claim.”

“And the other?”

“The other was the biological proof.”

Benedict stared at her.

“What does that mean?”

Margaret's voice became quieter.

“Your grandfather believed the legal heir could be challenged.”

She looked at Benedict.

If both kids made it, there's no way to wipe out the Vandross family line.

Benedict understood.

“They weren't afraid of one child.”

“No.”

“They were afraid of both.”

“Yes.”

Damian looked at Victor.

“Where is the other child?”

Victor remained silent.

Benedict's voice became cold.

“Where is my brother?”

Margaret looked toward the warehouse entrance.

Before she could answer, headlights appeared outside.

Several vehicles.

Victor immediately turned.

“They found us.”

Damian moved toward the window.

“How many?”

“Four.”

Benedict looked at Margaret.

“Who are they?”

She shook her head.

“I don't know.”

Victor's expression changed.

“I do.”

Everyone turned toward him.

Victor stared through the window.

“Magnus.”

The warehouse doors suddenly crashed open.

Armed men rushed inside.

“Down!”

Benedict pulled Damian behind the table.

Margaret dropped to the floor.

Victor moved toward her.

A shot struck the wall above them.

Damian's heart raced.

“Where's the exit?”

Margaret pointed toward the rear.

“Through the loading bay!”

Benedict grabbed Damian.

“Move!”

They ran.

Victor followed.

Margaret stayed behind for one second.

She glanced over her shoulder, watching as the men walked into the warehouse.

Then at the old table.

Something seemed to occur to her.

She sprinted towards a little metal box that was tucked away underneath something.

Benedict noticed.

“Margaret!”

She grabbed the box.

“I can't leave this!”

“What is it?”

“The original record.”

Damian stopped.

“The record of the two children?”

“Yes.”

Benedict's eyes widened.

“Bring it!”

Margaret ran.

They reached the loading bay.

A vehicle waited outside.

Damian opened the passenger door.

“Get in!”

They climbed inside.

The driver accelerated away.

Behind them, the warehouse disappeared into darkness.

Damian looked at Margaret.

“Open the box.”

She held it tightly.

“Not here.”

“Why?”

“Because if this record is what I think it is…”

She looked at Benedict.

It will reveal which child is the rightful heir.

Benedict stared at the box.

“And the other?”

Margaret looked out the window.

“The other child was given a new identity.”

Damian frowned.

“Where?”

Margaret's eyes filled with fear.

“Inside the Ashcroft family.”

Benedict's expression hardened.

“What do you mean?”

Margaret looked directly at him.

“I mean your brother may have grown up closer to you than you ever imagined.”

Silence filled the vehicle.

Damian's heart stopped.

“Where?”

Margaret didn't answer.

She looked down at the box.

Then whispered,

"First, let me explain something to you."

Benedict waited.

“Your brother wasn't the only child they renamed.”

The car kept going down the dark roads of Aurelia.

It was then that Benedict had a startling realization - the search for his brother might actually be closer to home, within the Ashcroft family itself.

It might lead directly into it.