Chapter 5 - The Trap They Set for My Son
Perrin never returned to school that week.
Police placed protection outside the hospital and our temporary apartment.
I refused to take him back to the mansion.
Not yet.
Every wall there carried a memory I wanted him to forget.
Mara slowly regained her strength.
Some mornings she could walk the hallway.
Other mornings she woke screaming.
We learned not to force normality.
We learned that surviving something did not mean it disappeared.
Then Rhea contacted me.
She called at 2:11 a.m.
“You ruined everything.”
“You did that yourself.”
“I loved you.”
“No. You studied me.”
Silence.
Then she laughed softly.
“You really think Mara is innocent?”
I looked toward Mara sleeping nearby.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask her why she knew about the trust before you did.”
The line went dead.
The question stayed.
The next morning I asked Mara.
She didn’t deny it.
My father had told her.
He made her promise not to tell me unless Ethan became dangerous.
“Why?”
“Because your father knew you’d confront him.”
“He was my brother.”
“Exactly.”
I wanted to be angry.
Instead I realized how predictable I had been.
Ethan knew it too.
That afternoon, Detective Shaw received a breakthrough.
Traffic cameras had captured Rhea entering an abandoned industrial district.
Police moved in.
They found her car.
But not Rhea.
Instead, they found a laptop playing a recorded message.
Ethan appeared on screen.
“You’ve always been easy to control,” he said. “All anyone has to do is threaten someone you love.”
Police searched the building.
Empty.
A diversion.
My phone rang.
The security officer downstairs.
“Sir, there’s a delivery for Perrin.”
My blood froze.
“No one touches it.”
The bomb squad examined the package.
There was no explosive.
Inside was Perrin’s childhood photograph.
And a handwritten invitation.
COME HOME. ALONE.
Shaw told me not to go.
I agreed.
Then I went.
But not alone.
Police followed at a distance.
The mansion was dark when I entered.
The destroyed hidden wall remained open.
I walked past it.
“Ethan!”
Nothing.
Then I heard music.
My father’s favorite jazz record.
It came from the library.
Ethan was sitting behind Dad’s old desk.
He looked older than I remembered.
Tired.
But smiling.
“Little brother.”
“Where’s Rhea?”
“Running.”
“What do you want?”
“The key.”
“You’re too late.”
His smile faded.
“The records are with police.”
“You think I care about records?”
He stood.
“I want Dad’s original trust amendment.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Yes, you do.”
He pointed toward the stuffed dog in my hand.
I had brought a replica.
The real key and documents were secure.
Ethan didn’t know.
“Give it to me.”
“First tell me why.”
His face twisted.
“Because he chose you.”
“This was never about me.”
“It was always about you.”
Years of resentment poured out.
Dad trusted me.
Dad protected Perrin.
Dad suspected Ethan.
Everything Ethan had done began with a belief that something had been stolen from him.
Then movement appeared behind him.
Rhea.
She held a kitchen knife.
“You were supposed to come alone.”
“I did.”
Police were listening through a transmitter hidden beneath my shirt.
I needed time.
Rhea approached.
“You destroyed my life.”
“You locked a child inside a wall.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I did everything for him.”
She looked at Ethan.
And I finally understood.
Rhea loved Ethan.
Not me.
I had been a role.
A target.
A doorway into my family.
Ethan barely looked at her.
That hurt her.
I saw it.
So I asked one question.
“Rhea, when this ends, do you really think he’s taking you with him?”
She froze.
Ethan snapped, “Don’t listen.”
I continued.
“He abandoned Mara. He used you. He left you in custody.”
“Shut up.”
That came from Ethan.
Rhea looked at him.
“You said you were coming for me.”
“I did.”
“No. Your people hit the transport.”
“For you.”
“Then why weren’t you there?”
The room changed.
Their alliance fractured in front of me.
Sirens suddenly sounded outside.
Ethan reached into his jacket.
Police stormed the room.
“Hands!”
Rhea dropped the knife.
Ethan ran.
He crashed through the side door and disappeared toward the gardens.
Officers followed.
I ran after them.
At the edge of the property, Ethan climbed into a waiting SUV.
The vehicle accelerated.
Then stopped.
Police had blocked the road.
Ethan reversed.
More vehicles closed behind him.
For several seconds, he sat trapped.
Then he stepped out.
Hands raised.
The nightmare should have ended there.
But as officers approached him, Ethan smiled at me.
“You still don’t know what happened the night Dad died.”
My heart stopped.
Dad’s death had been ruled a heart attack.
Ethan leaned toward the officer handcuffing him.
“Ask Mara.”
Then he laughed.
May you like
And suddenly the darkest secret in our family was no longer about my missing wife.
It was about the man whose death had started everything.
