Chapter 21 - The Ringing
Every phone in the archive started ringing at the same time.
The sound was so sudden and synchronized that nobody moved.
Ten phones.
Ten different ringtones.
One impossible rhythm.
Rachel stared at the screen in her hand.
“No.”
Caroline looked at hers.
Her face drained of color.
“It says no caller ID.”
Denise couldn't even look at her phone. She had dropped it, and it vibrated across the stone floor in a tight circle.
Harold backed toward the wall.
“What is this?”
Jonathan stopped halfway down the stairs.
His eyes had gone to the ceiling.
“Don't answer.”
Martin turned toward him.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas built this.”
The ringing continued.
I looked at Jonathan.
“You knew?”
“I knew there was a communications fail-safe.”
“Then turn it off.”
“I can't.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn't designed to be turned off.”
Mark stepped closer to me.
“Then what happens if we don't answer?”
Jonathan looked at the phones.
“It keeps calling.”
“How long?”
“Until someone answers.”
Rachel slowly raised her phone.
Jonathan's voice sharpened.
“Don't.”
She ignored him.
She tapped the screen.
The ringing stopped.
For one second, nothing happened.
Then every other phone stopped too.
Rachel put the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Old.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Rachel.”
She froze.
I knew the voice before anyone said the name.
Thomas.
My father's voice.
Eleven years gone.
Dead.
And somehow speaking to us.
Rachel lowered the phone.
Everyone in the room stared at it.
The voice continued.
“If you are hearing this recording, the final file has been opened.”
Jonathan closed his eyes.
I whispered, “Dad.”
The recording continued.
“Do not trust the person who tells you the archive contains the whole truth.”
Martin's face changed.
Rachel looked at him.
Thomas went on.
“The archive contains what I was able to save.”
The lights flickered once.
Then came back.
“Someone will tell you that the danger is over because the old network is exposed.”
Thomas paused.
“It isn't.”
Jonathan whispered, “No.”
Thomas continued.
“There is another structure beneath it. Smaller. More protected. Built by people who learned from our mistakes.”
Martin took one step backward.
I noticed.
So did Mark.
Thomas's voice became softer.
“Hannah, if you're listening, I am sorry.”
My throat closed.
“I wanted you to have an ordinary life.”
The recording crackled.
“I failed.”
Denise covered her mouth.
Thomas continued.
“Do not give the birth certificate to anyone.”
I looked down at the document in my hand.
“Not Martin. Not Jonathan. Not the police. Not a lawyer.”
Jonathan's face tightened.
Rachel stared at Martin.
Thomas said one final sentence.
“The man named on that certificate is not the man you think he is.”
The recording ended.
Silence.
Nobody spoke.
Then Martin said quietly, “He always knew how to make an entrance.”
Rachel turned toward him.
“You knew about this recording.”
“No.”
“You knew about the fail-safe.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Thomas had another layer.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell us.”
“I didn't know what he recorded.”
Rachel raised the gun again.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Martin didn't move.
“I expect nothing from you.”
She took a step forward.
“Then tell me why Thomas warned Hannah not to trust you.”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then why were you so interested in the archive?”
“Because the archive contained evidence.”
“Evidence against whom?”
“Everyone.”
Jonathan spoke.
“Not everyone.”
Martin looked at him.
Jonathan's voice hardened.
“You know exactly what Thomas was trying to protect.”
Martin said nothing.
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Everyone looked at me.
I held the birth certificate against my chest.
“I want answers.”
Jonathan nodded.
“You deserve them.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I deserve the truth. Those aren't the same thing.”
His expression shifted.
I could see the exhaustion in his face.
“All right.”
He pointed toward a narrow stone corridor.
“There's a second room.”
Martin frowned.
“I thought you said there was only one archive.”
“I said this was the archive.”
“That sounds like the same thing.”
“It isn't.”
Mark looked at me.
“Where does it lead?”
Jonathan hesitated.
“Under the east wing.”
The house suddenly shook.
A dull impact came from above.
Everyone froze.
Another impact.
Then glass shattered somewhere upstairs.
Harold whispered, “Someone's in the house.”
Rachel raised the gun.
Martin grabbed a metal bar from beside the archive cabinet.
Mark moved in front of me.
“Stay behind me.”
Another crash.
Then footsteps.
Running.
Jonathan's face changed.
“They came sooner than I expected.”
I stared at him.
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
A door slammed upstairs.
Then another.
Voices.
Multiple people.
Mark looked toward the staircase.
“How many?”
Jonathan listened.
“At least six.”
Rachel looked at Martin.
“Your people?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
Martin's jaw tightened.
“The people Thomas was afraid of.”
A gunshot cracked through the ceiling.
Denise screamed.
Mark grabbed my wrist.
“Move.”
Jonathan pulled open a hidden panel behind the archive cabinets.
A stone doorway appeared.
“Inside.”
We rushed through.
Evelyn caught my hand.
Harold followed.
Caroline pulled Denise along.
Rachel hesitated.
Martin stood beside her.
“You first.”
She looked at him.
“You're coming.”
“I have nowhere else to go.”
She entered.
Martin followed.
Jonathan was last.
He pulled the panel shut.
Darkness swallowed us.
For several seconds, all we could hear was breathing.
Then Jonathan whispered:
“They're not here for the house.”
I asked, “Then what are they here for?”
He looked at the birth certificate in my hand.
“They're here for you.”
I felt Mark's hand tighten around mine.
A second later, something struck the other side of the hidden door.
Once.
Twice.
Then a voice came through the stone.
“Hannah.”
I stopped breathing.
The voice was female.
Old.
And strangely familiar.
“Your mother asked us to find you.”
I stared into the darkness.
Jonathan whispered one word.
“Impossible.”
The woman outside laughed.
“Thomas lied about many things.”
May you like
A pause.
“But he never told Hannah who her mother really was.”
