Chapter 12 - The Boy Called Daniel
The school looked nothing like the warehouse.
That was the first thing that struck me.
St. Andrew’s Preparatory Academy sat behind iron gates and rows of perfectly trimmed trees. Every building was illuminated. The windows were warm. Security cameras covered every entrance.
It looked safe.
That almost made it worse.
Because somewhere inside that polished world was a twelve-year-old boy who had just called Evan and said he was his brother.
The headmaster met us at the front entrance.
His name was Harold Price.
He was thin, gray-haired, and visibly irritated at being dragged from bed after midnight.
“This is a private institution,” he said.
The investigator held up his badge.
“We know.”
“We require judicial authorization for student records.”
“You can provide them after we determine whether one of your students is in immediate danger.”
Harold’s expression changed.
“Which student?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
He froze.
It lasted only a second.
But I saw it.
“You know him,” I said.
“He is enrolled here.”
“Where is he?”
“We have to confirm that.”
“Now.”
Harold glanced toward the hallway.
A security officer approached.
“Mr. Price?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a problem.”
“What kind?”
“Daniel’s room is empty.”
My heart dropped.
“When did anyone last see him?” I asked.
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Twenty minutes?”
Harold looked confused.
“That is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I personally checked the east dormitory forty minutes ago.”
Evan grabbed his arm.
“Where is my brother?”
Harold stared at him.
“I don't understand.”
“My name is Evan Brooks.”
The headmaster went completely still.
“You're…”
“Yes.”
The older man looked at Diane.
“I told you this would happen.”
Diane’s face crumpled.
“You knew who I was?”
Harold sighed.
“I was instructed never to discuss the family.”
“Who instructed you?”
He looked at Richard.
Richard didn't answer.
Harold whispered, “Your father.”
Evan stepped forward.
“David?”
“Yes.”
My pulse raced.
“Did he visit the school?”
“Several times.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“How many?”
“I don't remember.”
“You do,” I said.
He looked at me.
“You remember exactly.”
His silence was answer enough.
“Where is Daniel?”
Harold walked toward the security office.
We followed.
The main monitor showed rows of camera feeds.
He brought up the east dormitory.
“Watch.”
A timestamp appeared.
Twenty-two minutes earlier.
Daniel walked out of his room carrying a small backpack.
He looked completely calm.
Then another figure appeared.
A woman.
She wore a long coat.
Her face was hidden by the angle of the camera.
She approached Daniel.
He stopped.
They spoke.
Then he followed her.
Evan’s voice dropped.
“Who is that?”
Harold shook his head.
“I don't know.”
The investigator leaned closer.
“Can you enhance the image?”
“Maybe.”
The officer worked on the feed.
The woman turned slightly.
Her face became visible for half a second.
I recognized her immediately.
“Elaine.”
Evan looked at me.
“What?”
“That's Elaine.”
Diane covered her mouth.
The investigator’s expression hardened.
“Who is Elaine?”
“Someone we trusted.”
The feed froze.
The woman’s profile was unmistakable.
The investigator picked up the phone.
“Where is Elaine now?”
No one answered.
The security officer checked.
“She left the property eighteen minutes ago.”
“How?”
“Front gate.”
“Vehicle?”
“Black SUV.”
“Plate?”
He read it.
The investigator’s radio came alive.
“Possible suspect vehicle.”
I could barely breathe.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned.
“What?”
“The note.”
I pulled the photograph from my bag.
He has been living under another identity.
Do not trust the person who brought him to you.
I pointed at the screen.
“She brought him.”
Evan stared at the footage.
“Then Elaine knows where he is.”
“Exactly.”
The investigator turned to Harold.
“Open Daniel’s student file.”
“You don't have the authority.”
“We will get the warrant.”
Harold looked at the screen again.
Something in his face changed.
“He wasn't supposed to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because David left instructions.”
“What instructions?”
Harold walked to a locked cabinet.
He removed a key.
Inside was a file.
He placed it on the desk.
“This was sealed.”
I opened it.
The first document was a letter.
David Brooks.
My hands trembled.
Evan leaned over my shoulder.
The letter was dated twelve years earlier.
To whoever has custody of my son,
Samuel must never be registered under my family name.
If they know he exists, he will become leverage.
Do not allow Diane to bring him into the Brooks household.
Do not allow Richard to access his records.
And above all—
Do not let Victor Lane know that Samuel is alive.
Evan stopped breathing.
He looked at Diane.
She stepped backward.
“I didn't know.”
“You were warned not to bring him home.”
“I was.”
“Why?”
“Because your father believed someone inside our family was helping Victor.”
Evan’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
David’s letter continued.
If I fail to return, trust only Elaine Porter.
I stared at the name.
Elaine.
The same woman who had just taken Daniel.
My heart began pounding.
“Maybe she isn't betraying us.”
The investigator looked at me.
“She took the boy without authorization.”
“Maybe she is protecting him.”
“From whom?”
I looked at Diane.
“From all of us.”
Evan turned toward her.
“Why would David trust Elaine?”
Diane whispered, “Because she was the only one who knew about the second safe house.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Richard suddenly spoke.
“I do.”
Everyone looked at him.
He rubbed his forehead.
“David told me once.”
“Where?”
“The old Miller farm.”
The investigator pulled out his phone.
“Address.”
Richard gave it.
I felt a chill.
“That's outside town.”
“Yes.”
“Does Elaine know it?”
Richard nodded.
“She was the one who managed it.”
The investigator looked at his partner.
“We go now.”
Evan grabbed my hand.
“What if Daniel is there?”
I squeezed his fingers.
“Then we find him.”
“And if Elaine took him for another reason?”
I didn't answer.
Because the truth was becoming painfully clear.
Someone had been protecting Samuel for twelve years.
May you like
But we still didn't know whether that person had been protecting him from Victor…
or protecting him from us.
