THE SON THEY BURIED WAS THEIR ONLY HEIR

Forty Three: The Man in the Darkness

Benedict couldn't see the man's face.

Only his outline.

Tall.

Still.

He was standing at the end of the narrow passage, as if he had been waiting for them all along, his presence seeming almost expected.

Damian moved closer.

"Who are you?"

The man didn't answer.

Benedict tightened his grip on the guardianship document.

"You said Gabriel tried to save the child."

"I did."

"Then you know what happened that night."

The man remained silent.

"Tell me."

A faint sound escaped him.

Almost a laugh.

Do you really believe that finding out what happened will make a difference and somehow make things easier to deal with?

"No."

Benedict stepped forward.

"I think knowing the truth is better than living with a lie."

The man tilted his head.

"That's what Isabella believed."

Benedict froze.

"You knew Isabella?"

"I knew her."

"Where is she?"

The man didn't answer.

Benedict stepped forward again.

"Is she alive?"

A long silence followed.

Then the man said,

"That depends on what you mean by alive."

Damian frowned.

"What does that mean?"

It's like some people just fade away, even when they're still alive, you know, they're already gone, long before their body actually stops working.

Benedict's patience snapped.

"Enough riddles."

The man glanced over at the paper Benedict was holding, his eyes fixed on the document.

"Read it."

Benedict glanced down.

The darkness made the writing difficult to see.

He moved toward the nearest window.

A thin beam of moonlight fell across the page.

The heading was clear.

PRIVATE GUARDIANSHIP AGREEMENT

Beneath it was the child's temporary identification.

BEN.

Benedict's heartbeat quickened.

But the rest of the page was damaged.

The father's name had been removed.

The mother's name was partially visible.

Isabella V—

Then another section.

Designated Guardian:

The name had been deliberately scratched away.

Benedict looked up.

"Who was the guardian?"

The man said nothing.

"Was it Clara?"

"No."

"Daniel?"

"No."

"Margaret?"

"No."

Benedict stared at him.

"Then who?"

The man finally stepped into the weak light.

His face was still partly hidden.

"The guardian was someone the Ashcrofts trusted."

"Who?"

A person with no motive to desire the kid.

Benedict frowned.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It answers more than you realize."

Damian stepped between them.

"Why are you helping us?"

The man looked at him.

"I'm not."

"Then why lead us here?"

You were probably going to stumble upon the passage regardless.

"How?"

"Because Daniel left enough clues."

Benedict's expression hardened.

"You knew Daniel."

"Yes."

"Did you steal his ledger?"

The man smiled faintly.

"No."

"Then who did?"

"You are asking the wrong question."

Benedict's voice lowered.

"What's the right one?"

"Who wanted you to believe the ledger was stolen?"

The question silenced them.

Benedict looked at Damian.

The archive.

The missing ledger.

The torn piece of paper.

The leather fragment marked with D.

Could all of it have been staged?

The man continued.

"Daniel Cross understood that documents could be destroyed."

"So he created copies."

"Exactly."

"Where?"

The man looked at the guardianship agreement.

"Somewhere no Ashcroft would think to search."

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

"Where?"

The man took one step backward.

"Ask the person who inherited Daniel's secrets."

"His daughter?"

"No."

"Then who?"

The man's expression changed.

For the first time, Benedict saw fear.

Not afraid of him.

Fear of something else.

Daniel had faith in just one individual, to whom he entrusted the entire file.

"Who?"

As the man was about to respond, the darkness at the far end of the passage was suddenly interrupted by the glare of headlights.

A vehicle had stopped outside.

The man immediately turned.

"You need to leave."

Benedict grabbed his arm.

"Not until you tell me who."

The man pulled free.

"Find the old chapel."

Benedict stared at him.

"What chapel?"

But the man was already moving toward the darkness.

"Wait!"

Benedict followed.

He reached the end of the passage.

The man was gone.

Only an open door remained.

Damian caught up.

"Where did he go?"

Benedict looked outside.

Nothing.

No vehicle.

No footsteps.

No trace.

Then he looked at the guardianship document again.

The moonlight revealed something he had missed.

At the bottom of the page was a handwritten sentence.

If the kid makes it, get him to the chapel before his family tracks him down.

Benedict stared at it.

"The chapel."

Damian nodded.

"But Ashcroft Manor doesn't have a chapel."

"Maybe it used to."

They returned to the main house.

Eleanor was waiting in the library.

The moment she saw Benedict's face, she stood.

"What happened?"

"We found a hidden passage."

Her expression changed.

"Where?"

"The eastern wing."

Eleanor's face became pale.

"That passage was supposed to be sealed."

"It was."

"What did you find?"

Benedict placed the guardianship agreement on the desk.

Eleanor read it.

Her hand moved to her mouth.

"Ben."

Benedict watched her carefully.

"Did you know this document existed?"

"No."

"Did you know about the chapel?"

Eleanor froze.

Damian noticed.

"You do."

Eleanor looked toward the window.

"I haven't thought about that place in years."

"Where is it?"

She hesitated.

"Beyond the old orchard."

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

"There was a chapel?"

"Yes."

"Why was it abandoned?"

Eleanor looked at him.

"Because of what happened there."

"What happened?"

She swallowed.

"Isabella went there the night before the fire."

Benedict's expression changed.

"Alone?"

"I don't know."

"Did she have the child?"

"I don't remember."

Eleanor closed her eyes.

Then another fragment returned.

Isabella standing beneath the chapel doorway.

A baby wrapped in white cloth.

And someone waiting inside.

Eleanor opened her eyes.

"There was a man with her."

"Who?"

"I couldn't see his face."

Benedict looked at the document.

Then at Eleanor.

"Was it Gabriel?"

Eleanor shook her head slowly.

"No."

"How do you know?"

"Because I remember his voice."

She looked frightened.

"It wasn't Gabriel."

Benedict's pulse quickened.

"Then who was it?"

Eleanor whispered,

"The man said the child would never belong to the Ashcrofts."

Silence filled the library.

Benedict folded the document.

"We're going to the chapel."

Eleanor grabbed his arm.

"Don't."

"Why?"

"Because if that man is still alive..."

She stopped.

Benedict waited.

Eleanor's voice dropped.

"...he may already know you're looking for him."

Benedict looked toward the dark window.

For twenty-four years, the Ashcroft family had buried the truth.

Now the truth was beginning to uncover itself.

And somewhere beyond the old orchard...

The abandoned chapel was waiting.

The old orchard was almost completely swallowed by darkness.

Benedict walked ahead with Damian behind him.

Neither spoke.

The chapel stood beyond a line of overgrown trees, its stone walls barely visible beneath years of neglect.

Benedict stopped.

"That's it?"

Damian nodded.

"It hasn't been used in decades."

Benedict pushed the rusted gate open.

It groaned through the silence.

They entered.

The chapel smelled of dust and damp stone.

Broken wooden benches lined the walls.

At the front stood a small altar covered in dirt.

Damian swept his flashlight across the room.

"Nothing."

Benedict looked around.

"Not yet."

He remembered the document.

Get him to the chapel right away, before his family shows up and things get complicated.

He walked toward the altar.

Then stopped.

There was a mark carved into the stone.

The same symbol from the silver bracelet.

Benedict touched it.

A section of the altar shifted.

Damian stared.

"There's something underneath."

Together, they moved the stone panel.

A narrow compartment appeared.

Inside was a metal box.

Benedict lifted it carefully.

The lock had already been broken.

Someone had been there before them.

Damian looked at him.

"Whoever came here knew about this."

Benedict opened the box.

Inside were three things.

An old photograph.

A folded letter.

And a small silver bracelet.

Benedict picked up the photograph first.

It showed Isabella.

She was holding the child.

Standing beside her was Margaret.

On the back was a date.

The night before the fire.

Benedict turned to the letter.

The handwriting belonged to Daniel.

He read silently.

Then his expression changed.

"What?"

Damian stepped closer.

Benedict handed him the letter.

It contained only a few lines.

Daniel had written that the child was in danger and that the truth about his birth could not be trusted to the Ashcroft family.

But the final sentence was the one that mattered.

In the event that something unfortunate happens to me, it's crucial that the guardian takes every necessary precaution to keep the boy safe and hidden from those who might mean him harm. This protection should continue until the boy is old enough to make his own decisions, specifically regarding whether or not he wishes to bear the Ashcroft name.

Damian looked up.

"Daniel knew."

"He knew enough."

"Who was the guardian?"

Benedict turned the page.

The name had been torn away.

Again.

Underneath the part that was missing, someone had written an initial by hand.

C.

Damian frowned.

"Clara?"

"Maybe."

She claimed that St. Raphael's was the only place she took him.

"Then perhaps she was never the guardian."

Benedict looked at the bracelet.

There was something engraved inside it.

A date.

And beneath the date:

For the boy who must remember.

His fingers tightened around it.

"Someone expected him to come back."

Damian stared at him.

"Who?"

Benedict didn't answer.

A sound came from outside.

Both men turned.

Footsteps.

Someone was walking toward the chapel.

Benedict extinguished the flashlight.

The door opened.

A figure entered.

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then the figure stepped into the faint moonlight.

Eleanor.

Benedict immediately switched the light back on.

"Mother?"

She looked at the box.

Then at the bracelet.

Her face was drained of color.

"I knew it."

Benedict frowned.

"Knew what?"

Eleanor walked toward him.

"I've seen that bracelet before."

"Where?"

"On Isabella."

Benedict stared at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She touched the bracelet with trembling fingers.

"She wore it the night she came to the manor."

Benedict looked at the photograph.

"Then why was it left here?"

Eleanor looked toward the altar.

"Because she wasn't the one who left it."

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Eleanor swallowed.

"The night before the fire, Isabella gave me something."

"What?"

"A message."

"From whom?"

"I never knew."

"Mother."

She looked at him.

"I remember now."

"What?"

"The man at the chapel."

Benedict stepped closer.

"What did he say?"

Eleanor's eyes filled with fear.

He said to Isabella, "If you won't give me the child, then..."

She stopped.

Benedict waited.

"He would expose the child's father."

The chapel became silent.

Damian looked at Benedict.

"Then the father was someone powerful."

Eleanor nodded.

"Someone whose identity could destroy the family."

Benedict looked down at the bracelet.

His phone suddenly vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message.

You found the chapel.

Another appeared.

You should go ask Eleanor to tell you who she saw taking the child away.

Benedict slowly lifted his eyes.

Eleanor was already crying.

"Mother?"

She looked at him.

"I remember."

Her voice trembled.

"The child wasn't taken by Daniel."

Benedict's heart stopped.

"Then who took him?"

Eleanor looked toward the chapel door.

"The woman who came after the fire."

"Who was she?"

Eleanor whispered the only thing she remembered.

"She called him Ben."

Benedict stared at her.

The same name.

The same child.

The same mystery.

But now they had one more clue.

The person who took the child had known exactly what to call him.

And somewhere in the past, someone had made sure Benedict would never remember why.