THE SON THEY BURIED WAS THEIR ONLY HEIR

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Right to Claim Him

Benedict read Daniel Cross's final sentence again.

The question was, who had the right to say he belonged to them.

He couldn't stop staring at it.

Mara sat opposite him.

"What does it mean?”

Benedict folded the photograph.

"That's what we're going to find out."

He slipped it into the folder.

"Did Daniel leave any other records?"

"His daughter said no."

"She may not know."

Mara nodded.

"Then we search his professional files."

"Quietly."

"Of course."

Benedict stood.

Before he could leave, his phone rang.

Victor.

Benedict answered.

"Father."

"We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Daniel Cross."

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

"How do you know I've been investigating him?"

Victor was silent.

Then he said,

That's because a person just arrived at the manor inquiring about him.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Did you see them?"

"No."

"Then why are you calling me?"

Victor's voice lowered.

"Because they left something."

"What?"

"A letter."

Benedict's expression hardened.

"Read it."

"I haven't."

"Why?"

"Because it's addressed to you."

At Ashcroft Manor, Victor stood in the library with the letter in his hand.

Eleanor was beside him.

"Open it," Benedict said through the phone.

Victor looked at Eleanor.

Then carefully opened the envelope.

Inside was a single sheet.

He read it silently.

His face changed.

"What does it say?" Benedict asked.

Victor hesitated.

Daniel Cross was told to get some papers ready twenty-four years ago.

"By whom?"

Victor looked at the bottom of the page.

"There is no name."

Benedict closed his eyes.

"Read the rest."

Victor continued.

"Prepare legal guardianship documents for the child."

Eleanor's hand flew to her mouth.

Victor kept reading.

Give all control to the person in charge right after the fire happens.

Benedict went silent.

"Designated guardian," he repeated.

"Yes."

"Who?"

Victor looked at the final line.

His voice became barely audible.

"The name was removed."

Benedict's jaw tightened.

"Again."

Silence.

"Again, someone removed the name."

Damian sat in the executive office, staring at the photograph he had received from St. Raphael's.

The child wore the silver bracelet.

The same symbol.

He enlarged the image on his laptop.

Then I froze.

There was something in the background.

A vehicle.

Its license plate was barely visible.

Damian typed a number into this really old system they used to keep track of transportation.

The result appeared.

Ashcroft Holdings — Private Estate Vehicle.

He leaned back.

The child was taken away in a vehicle made by Ashcroft.

But why?

And who authorized it?

Damian searched the authorization records.

Nothing.

He tried an older database.

One result appeared.

Special Transportation Order.

The permission was given by the office of the Ashcroft family.

The signature was missing.

Damian stared at the screen.

It seemed like someone had deliberately deleted all the files related to what happened that night, leaving no trail or evidence behind.

He reached for his phone.

Then stopped.

A thought occurred to him.

If the records had been erased from the company...

Perhaps the family had kept a private copy.

He stood.

There was one person who might know.

Eleanor.

Benedict arrived at the manor before sunset.

Victor was waiting.

Eleanor stood beside him.

No one spoke as Benedict entered.

He placed Daniel's photograph on the table.

Victor looked at it.

"You found this."

"Daniel's daughter gave it to me."

Victor's expression tightened.

"She shouldn't have."

"Why?"

"Because Daniel wanted the past to remain buried."

Benedict stared at him.

"Apparently he changed his mind."

Victor said nothing.

Benedict placed the letter beside the photograph.

"Someone prepared guardianship papers for the child."

Eleanor looked at Victor.

"Did you know?"

Victor shook his head.

"Not until tonight."

Benedict's eyes remained fixed on him.

"Who was supposed to become the guardian?"

"I don't know."

"Was it you?"

Victor's expression changed.

"No."

"Eleanor?"

"No."

"Then who?"

Victor looked toward the old fireplace.

I recall Daniel mentioning that someone outside of our family had the legal right to make decisions.

Benedict frowned.

What gives someone from outside the family the right to make decisions for them?

"Because the child was vulnerable."

"To what?"

Victor hesitated.

"To be claimed by the wrong person."

Benedict stepped closer.

"Who wanted him?"

Victor looked at him.

"That's what we were trying to prevent."

The library door opened.

Damian entered.

"I found something."

Everyone turned.

He placed St. Raphael's photograph on the table.

Benedict picked it up.

His eyes immediately went to the child.

"The boy."

Damian nodded.

Someone took him to St. Raphael's after the fire.

"Who?"

"Daniel Cross."

Eleanor looked at Victor.

"And someone later came for him."

Benedict looked at Damian.

"Who?"

"We don't know."

Damian hesitated.

"But the administrator remembered one thing."

"What?"

"The woman asked for him by name."

Benedict's voice became quiet.

"What name?"

Damian looked at him.

"Ben."

The room went completely silent.

Benedict stared at the photograph.

For several seconds, no one moved.

Then Eleanor whispered,

"That name..."

Benedict looked at her.

"What?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing."

But Benedict noticed the fear in her eyes.

He knew she was remembering something.

Something she still wasn't ready to say.

Later that evening...

Benedict stood alone in the library.

He looked at the old family photographs.

Victor.

Eleanor.

Damian.

Ashcroft Manor.

Twenty-four years ago...

A child had been taken away.

Someone had prepared legal documents.

Someone had the authority to claim him.

And someone had spent decades ensuring the name of that person disappeared.

Benedict turned toward the cabinet.

"Who were you protecting?"

His phone vibrated.

A message appeared.

Ask Eleanor who gave her the child.

Benedict stared at the screen.

His gaze drifted slowly towards the library door, which was closed.

Eleanor recalled that she had tried to grab the boy.

She had never said what happened afterward.

Now someone wanted him to ask her a particular question.

Benedict typed:

Who gave you the child?

Then stopped.

He didn't send it.

Instead, he walked toward Eleanor's room.

Because if the answer existed...

He was finally going to hear it from her.

Benedict stopped outside Eleanor's bedroom.

He raised his hand to knock.

Then lowered it.

Some questions changed everything once they were answered.

He knocked anyway.

"Come in."

Eleanor was sitting beside the window.

She looked tired.

Benedict entered and closed the door.

"Mother, I need to ask you something."

Eleanor looked at him.

"About the boy?"

He froze.

"How did you know?"

She gave a sad smile.

"Because I've been asking myself the same question."

Benedict sat opposite her.

"Who gave you the child?"

Eleanor's eyes filled with uncertainty.

"I don't remember everything."

"Tell me what you do remember."

She closed her eyes.

"The fire had already started."

Smoke filled the eastern corridor.

"I heard someone crying."

"A child?"

She nodded.

"Margaret was running toward me."

"What happened?"

"She was frightened."

Eleanor's breathing became uneven.

"She put the child in my arms."

Benedict leaned forward.

"What did she say?"

Eleanor struggled to remember.

"She said..."

Her voice broke.

"She said, 'You have to protect him.'"

Benedict stared at her.

"Then what?"

"Victor came."

"What did he do?"

He asked me to hand the child over to him.

"Did you?"

Eleanor looked down.

"No."

Benedict's heart tightened.

"Why?"

"Because Margaret told me not to."

Silence filled the room.

"Where did the child go?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"I don't know."

"You had him."

"For a few minutes."

"And then?"

"I heard someone coming."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

Eleanor opened her eyes.

"But Margaret took him from me."

Benedict's expression changed.

"She came back?"

"Yes."

"What happened after that?"

"She carried him toward the eastern entrance."

"And Daniel?"

Eleanor nodded.

"He was waiting outside."

Benedict stood.

"So Daniel took the child."

"I think so."

"Think?"

"I never saw him leave."

Benedict paced slowly across the room.

Then Eleanor spoke again.

"But there was something else."

He turned.

"What?"

"Margaret gave me something."

"What?"

"A piece of paper."

"Where is it?"

"I don't know."

Eleanor suddenly looked toward an old cabinet.

"Wait."

She stood and walked toward it.

She opened the bottom drawer.

Inside was a small wooden box.

Eleanor removed it.

"I haven't opened this in years."

She placed it on the table.

Benedict watched as she lifted the lid.

Inside was a folded piece of paper.

He immediately recognized the handwriting.

Margaret.

Eleanor handed it to him.

Benedict unfolded it.

Only two sentences were written.

If something were to happen to him, just keep in mind that he's part of a larger family legacy, a bloodline that connects him to others.

Beneath it was another sentence.

Nobody afraid of the truth has the right to claim him.

Benedict stared at the words.

"Why didn't you show me this?"

"I forgot I had it."

"How?"

Eleanor looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"I think I was trying very hard to forget everything."

Benedict carefully folded the paper.

Then I noticed something at the bottom.

A small symbol.

The circle crossed by a line.

And beneath it...

A single initial.

V.

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

"Victor?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"I don't know."

Downstairs, Damian found Victor alone.

"You knew Eleanor had something."

Victor looked up.

"What?"

"The note."

Victor's expression changed.

"She showed Benedict?"

"Yes."

Victor stood.

"What did it say?"

Damian told him.

Victor turned away.

"Then it's begun."

"What has happened?"

"The truth."

Damian stepped closer.

"Father, who was the child?"

Victor didn't answer.

"Was he important to this family?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Victor looked at his son.

"He had a claim."

Damian frowned.

"A claim to what?"

Victor's voice dropped.

"Everything."

Damian stared at him.

"What does that mean?"

Before Victor could answer, Benedict entered the room.

"I think I can answer that."

Victor turned.

Benedict held Margaret's note.

"You said the child was important."

Victor said nothing.

"Important enough to have legal guardianship documents prepared."

Still nothing.

"Important enough for someone to erase his records."

Victor's face tightened.

It's significant enough that someone would try to intimidate anyone who recalls him.

Benedict stepped closer.

"Was the child an heir?"

Victor's silence was devastating.

Damian looked at his father.

"Father?"

Victor finally spoke.

"We never confirmed it."

Benedict's voice became cold.

"But you suspected it."

Victor nodded.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because of his mother."

Benedict stopped.

"Margaret?"

Victor shook his head.

"No."

He looked toward the old family portraits.

"The child's mother was someone whose name could have changed the entire Ashcroft inheritance."

The room went silent.

Damian stared at him.

"Who?"

Victor looked at Benedict.

"I don't know where she is."

"That's not what I asked."

Victor's voice became barely audible.

She wasn't meant to be mentioned in the Ashcroft files; it was all supposed to be kept quiet.

Benedict's expression hardened.

"Then someone must have erased it."

Victor nodded.

"And whoever did it..."

He paused.

"...was protecting more than a child."

Benedict looked at the portraits.

For the first time, the mystery felt larger than Room 17.

Larger than Margaret.

Larger than the fire.

Someone had been protecting a secret connected to the Ashcroft bloodline itself.

His phone vibrated.

A new message appeared.

You finally understand.

Benedict read the next line.

Now ask Victor who the child's mother was.

He slowly lifted his eyes toward Victor.

Victor knew immediately what question was coming.

And this time...

There was nowhere left for him to hide.