THE SON THEY BURIED WAS THEIR ONLY HEIR

Chapter Twenty Seven : The Woman Who Remembered

The clock struck midnight.

Benedict was already moving.

Eleanor followed him into the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Martha."

Victor stepped out of his study.

"I heard."

Benedict stopped.

Victor's expression was serious.

"We're going together."

"No."

Victor frowned.

"This isn't something you do alone."

Benedict looked directly at him.

"That's exactly what they want."

Victor stepped closer.

"They threatened someone who may hold the key to your past."

"And that's why I have to go."

Victor's jaw tightened.

"You don't understand what these people are capable of."

Benedict's expression hardened.

"I understand more than you think."

For a moment...

Neither father nor son moved.

Then Victor quietly said,

"Then let me stand beside you."

Benedict's eyes softened.

"All right."

It was a simple answer.

But for Victor...

It meant everything.

Gabriel was already waiting in the security room.

"The safe house was here."

He pointed at the screen.

"St. Gabriel's district."

Damian walked in.

"I'm coming."

Victor immediately shook his head.

"No."

Damian frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because you're not trained for this."

Damian looked at Benedict.

"And he is?"

Benedict almost smiled.

"Apparently not."

Gabriel interrupted.

"We don't have time."

He grabbed his jacket.

"We leave now."

Twenty minutes later...

Three vehicles moved through the sleeping city.

Rain streaked across the windshields.

Benedict sat in the back seat beside Victor.

Neither spoke.

Finally, Victor said,

"You called me Father tonight."

Benedict looked at him.

"I did?"

Victor smiled faintly.

"Yes."

Benedict looked out the window.

"I suppose I did."

"Thank you."

Benedict turned toward him.

"For what?"

I was surprised to get something I never expected to receive.

Benedict didn't answer.

After a moment, he quietly said,

"I'm still trying to understand all of this."

"I know."

"But I'm willing to try."

Victor nodded.

"So am I."

The vehicles stopped outside the safe house.

Gabriel stepped out first.

His hand immediately moved toward his weapon.

"Too quiet."

Benedict looked around.

The building appeared abandoned.

One window was broken.

The front door stood slightly open.

Victor frowned.

"Stay behind me."

They entered.

The living room was empty.

A chair had been overturned.

A cup lay shattered on the floor.

Gabriel checked the rooms.

"Nobody."

Benedict's heart sank.

"Martha."

He moved deeper into the building.

Then stopped.

Something was lying on the floor.

A faded photograph.

Benedict picked it up.

His hands began to tremble.

There was a picture of some kids standing outside a place where they lived because they didn't have parents to take care of them.

Among them...

Was a little boy.

Dark hair.

Bright eyes.

A small scar above his eyebrow.

Benedict stared.

"That's me."

Victor moved beside him.

"You're sure?"

Benedict nodded.

"I remember that coat."

Eleanor's voice suddenly came through the phone.

She had stayed behind at the manor.

"Look at the woman standing behind the children."

Benedict turned the photograph around.

A woman stood near the doorway.

Her face was partly hidden.

But on her hand...

It was a silver ring.

The same ring.

Benedict's heart stopped.

"She was there."

Victor's expression darkened.

"Who is she?"

"I don't know."

Gabriel took the photograph.

"I've seen this woman before."

Everyone looked at him.

"Where?"

Gabriel stared at the photograph.

"At Ashcroft Manor."

Silence.

Benedict's stomach tightened.

"Who?"

Gabriel didn't answer immediately.

Then he whispered,

The individual with access to the west wing.

A sound came from upstairs.

Everyone froze.

Gabriel raised his weapon.

"Stay here."

Benedict shook his head.

"I'm coming."

Victor followed.

They climbed the stairs slowly.

One step.

Then another.

A floorboard creaked.

They reached the upper hallway.

A door stood open at the end.

Gabriel pushed it wider.

Inside...

Martha sat tied to a chair.

Her face was bruised.

But she was alive.

Benedict rushed forward.

"Martha!"

Gabriel immediately stopped him.

"Wait."

The room was too quiet.

There could be a trap.

Gabriel examined the walls.

The floor.

The ceiling.

Nothing.

He finally approached Martha.

"She's alive."

Benedict moved closer.

Martha slowly opened her eyes.

When she saw him...

Tears filled them.

"Little Ben."

Benedict's throat tightened.

"You remember me."

Martha gave a weak smile.

The moment I saw you, I remembered your face.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because..."

She struggled to breathe.

"...I was afraid."

"Of whom?"

Martha looked toward Victor.

Then Eleanor's name escaped her lips.

"Your mother."

Victor froze.

"What about Eleanor?"

Martha shook her head.

"She didn't know."

Benedict stared at her.

"Know what?"

Martha looked directly at him.

"The day you disappeared..."

She swallowed.

"Your mom wasn't even supposed to be at the train station, so what was she doing there?"

Victor's face changed.

"What?"

Martha continued.

She was informed that you were being taken to a safe location.

Benedict's heart pounded.

"Who?"

Martha's eyes filled with fear.

"I don't remember his name."

"But I remember his voice."

"What did he say?"

Martha whispered,

He warned that if you remained, the Ashcroft family would ultimately be the cause of their own downfall.

Victor stepped forward.

"Who was he?"

Martha looked at him.

Then slowly raised one trembling hand.

She pointed toward the photograph Benedict was holding.

Toward the woman with the silver ring.

"She knows."

A gunshot exploded outside.

The window shattered.

Victor pulled Benedict down.

Gabriel pushed Martha behind the bed.

Another shot struck the wall.

"They found us!"

Gabriel shouted.

Benedict crawled toward Martha.

"We're getting you out."

Martha grabbed his wrist.

"Listen to me."

"What?"

Her eyes were desperate.

"The man who took you..."

She struggled to speak over the chaos.

"...wasn't the mastermind."

Benedict froze.

"Then who was?"

Martha's lips trembled.

"Someone much closer."

Another gunshot rang out.

The lights went off.

Martha's whisper sent shivers down Benedict's spine as she spoke the words that made his heart skip a beat and his blood freeze in terror.

"Your family wasn't the only family involved."

The lights went out.

Another gunshot shattered the silence.

Victor pulled Benedict behind the wall.

"Stay down!"

Gabriel moved toward the window.

"They're outside."

"How many?"

"At least two."

Martha trembled in the corner.

Benedict crawled toward her.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head.

"Not badly."

He began cutting the rope around her wrists.

"Tell me what you meant."

Martha looked at him.

"About another family?"

She nodded.

"They were involved in what happened to you."

"Which family?"

Martha hesitated.

"I don't know if I should tell you."

"You have to."

"They'll kill you."

"They already tried."

Benedict's voice softened.

"Please."

Martha stared at him.

Then whispered,

"The Vale family."

Benedict froze.

Victor's expression changed.

"Vale?"

Martha nodded.

"I heard the name many times."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"But they had money."

"Influence."

"And people everywhere."

Victor looked at Benedict.

"The Vale family has been connected to Ashcroft Group for decades."

Gabriel's expression darkened.

"Not just connected."

Everyone looked at him.

"They were once one of our largest competitors."

Martha nodded.

"That's what I remember."

Benedict's mind raced.

"If they were involved..."

"Then it wasn't just about you trying to keep your parents apart," Victor said.

"It was about the Ashcroft inheritance."

Silence filled the room.

Benedict looked at him.

"My inheritance?"

Victor nodded.

"Edward had already chosen his successor."

"Me?"

Victor hesitated.

"Not exactly."

Benedict frowned.

"Then who?"

Victor looked at Martha.

She answered before he could.

"Your father."

Benedict stared.

"Victor?"

Martha nodded.

When Edward was born, the plan for who would inherit the throne changed.

Victor's expression hardened.

"He never told me."

"Because he didn't have time."

Martha's eyes filled with tears.

"Someone discovered the change."

"And they decided your child had to disappear."

A loud crash came from downstairs.

Gabriel looked toward the door.

"We need to move."

Martha stood with Benedict's help.

"There's another exit."

"Where?"

"Behind the wardrobe."

They moved quickly.

Gabriel checked the corridor.

"Clear."

Martha led them into a narrow passage.

Benedict followed closely.

The walls were old.

Dust covered the floor.

After several minutes...

They reached a hidden staircase.

It opened into the alley behind the building.

A vehicle waited there.

Damian stepped out.

Benedict stared.

"What are you doing here?"

Damian opened the passenger door.

"Saving you."

Victor frowned.

"How did you find us?"

Damian smiled.

"Gabriel's location tracker."

Gabriel looked at him.

"I never gave you access."

Damian's smile disappeared.

"I may have borrowed it."

Benedict almost laughed.

Even in the middle of the chaos...

Damian could still surprise him.

They helped Martha into the vehicle.

Then everyone climbed inside.

The car sped away.

For several minutes...

Nobody spoke.

Martha sat beside Eleanor.

The moment Eleanor saw her...

She reached for her hand.

"Martha."

Martha began crying.

"I'm sorry."

Eleanor shook her head.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"I should have found you."

"You were a child."

"I promised I would protect him."

Eleanor looked at Benedict.

"You did what you could."

Martha lowered her eyes.

"But I failed."

Benedict sat opposite them.

"No."

Martha looked at him.

"You remembered me."

"You remembered my name."

"That means something."

Martha's tears fell.

"Your mother used to sing to you."

Benedict smiled faintly.

"I remember the song."

Martha's expression changed.

"You do?"

"Pieces of it."

She reached for his hand.

"Then you're remembering."

Benedict nodded.

"And I think I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To know everything."

Martha looked at Victor.

Then at Eleanor.

So what did happen after you were gone?

The car became silent.

Martha took a deep breath.

"Your mother went to the station because she believed Victor had sent for her."

Eleanor nodded.

"That is what the letter said."

"But Victor never sent it."

"No."

"At the station..."

Martha's voice shook.

"...a man approached her."

"What did he say?"

He said to her that they had to take the baby to a safe place.

Eleanor closed her eyes.

"I remember."

"I was frightened."

Martha continued.

You had been warned that someone was on their way to keep you safe.

Eleanor's face crumpled.

"And I believed him."

Martha nodded.

"He took the baby."

Benedict stared at the floor.

"Then what?"

"The man disappeared."

"Where did he take me?"

Martha shook her head.

"I don't know."

"But later..."

She looked at Benedict.

"...you were brought to St. Gabriel's."

Benedict's eyes widened.

"The orphanage."

"Yes."

"Who brought me?"

Martha hesitated.

"A woman."

"The woman with the silver ring?"

Martha nodded.

"But she didn't leave you."

"She stayed for a while."

"How long?"

"Three months."

Benedict's heartbeat quickened.

"Then what happened?"

Martha looked away.

"She came one morning."

"She was crying."

"She told me someone was looking for you."

"So she left?"

Martha nodded.

"She disappeared."

Benedict's hands tightened.

"Did she know who I was?"

Martha looked directly into his eyes.

"Yes."

"She knew exactly who you were."

The vehicle suddenly slowed.

Gabriel looked through the rear window.

A dark-colored car, a sedan, had shown up a few cars back from where they were.

"It's following us."

Victor turned.

"Can you lose it?"

Gabriel nodded.

"I'll try."

The driver accelerated.

The sedan followed.

Another turn.

Then another.

The black car remained behind them.

Benedict looked at Martha.

"Is that them?"

Martha's face went pale.

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"I've seen that car before."

Victor's eyes narrowed.

"Where?"

Martha whispered,

"Outside the hospital."

Benedict's blood ran cold.

"The night I was born?"

Martha nodded.

"That same car was there."

Gabriel suddenly turned onto a narrow road.

The black sedan followed.

Then—

It disappeared.

Gabriel looked in the mirror.

"Where did they go?"

Everyone remained silent.

Martha slowly looked toward Benedict.

"They weren't following us."

Benedict frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"They were following me."

Silence.

"Why?"

Martha's face became pale.

"Because they know what I remember."

Later that night...

The Ashcroft family gathered in the private study.

Martha sat beside Eleanor.

Victor stood near the window.

Benedict remained in front of the fireplace.

A picture of a woman wearing a silver ring was sitting on the table.

Victor looked at it.

"We need to find her."

Gabriel nodded.

"We will."

Benedict stared at the photograph.

"No."

Everyone looked at him.

We have to figure out who she was before we can even think about finding her.

Victor frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if she was working for the people who took me..."

Benedict picked up the photograph.

"...she may not be the person giving the orders."

Gabriel nodded slowly.

"You're right."

Martha suddenly spoke.

"There is one thing."

Everyone turned.

"I remember the woman saying a name."

Benedict stepped closer.

"What name?"

Martha closed her eyes.

She struggled to remember.

Then whispered:

"Lucian."

Victor's face changed.

Eleanor noticed.

"Victor?"

He didn't answer.

Benedict looked at him.

"Father?"

Victor finally spoke.

"I know that name."

The room became silent.

"Who is Lucian?"

Victor looked at Benedict.

"A man my father trusted."

Benedict's expression hardened.

"Where is he now?"

Victor's voice became barely audible.

"Dead."

Everyone stared at him.

Then Victor added:

"Or at least..."

"...that's what I was told."

Benedict looked back at the photograph.

The woman with the silver ring.

Martha's warning.

The fake letters.

The stolen child.

The missing man.

Nothing was random anymore.

Someone had spent thirty years making sure the truth stayed buried.

And now...

The truth was beginning to remember them.