CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2
The File Named Emily
Richard survived the fall.
The doctors found a fractured shoulder, two broken ribs, and internal bleeding that required emergency surgery. The head injury was serious but not immediately fatal.
Daniel spent the night in a private room at the Beverly Hills Police Department.
No charges were filed.
Not yet.
The family described the fall as an accident.
Daniel knew that decision had nothing to do with forgiveness.
The Brooks family protected its reputation before it protected its members.
Natalie collected him shortly after sunrise.
She drove in silence until they reached the hospital.
“Why did they let me go?” Daniel asked.
“Dad’s lawyer spoke to them.”
“He was unconscious.”
“Eleanor called the lawyer.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Where is she?”
“At the mansion.”
“With the USB?”
Natalie’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“You saw her take it?”
“So did you.”
“I was trying to keep Dad alive.”
“She heard him say not to give it to her.”
Natalie said nothing.
At the hospital, security guards blocked access to Richard’s floor. Daniel expected them to keep him out, but Richard’s attorney, Samuel Levin, met them near the elevators.
Samuel was seventy-one and had represented Richard for more than thirty years.
“Your father left instructions,” he said.
“When?”
“Last week.”
Daniel felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
“What instructions?”
“If he became incapacitated, you and Natalie were to receive access to a private office in the mansion.”
Natalie frowned.
“What office?”
Samuel handed Daniel a silver key.
“The old screening room.”
The room had been closed since Daniel was a child. Richard claimed the electrical system was unsafe.
Samuel looked at Daniel carefully.
“He also instructed me to tell you that the USB is only a map.”
“A map to what?”
“The truth.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“Did he rehearse that line?”
Samuel ignored the question.
“There’s something else. Your father knew you had received the bank statement.”
“How?”
“He received a copy too.”
“From whom?”
“He didn’t say.”
Daniel looked toward the elevators.
“Can I see him?”
“No. He’s sedated.”
Daniel closed his hand around the key.
Two hours later, he and Natalie returned to the mansion.
Most of the guests were gone. The marble foyer had been cleaned, but a faint reddish stain remained between two floor tiles where Richard’s head had struck.
Daniel avoided looking at it.
Eleanor appeared at the top of the staircase.
She had changed into a cream suit. Her composure had returned.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.
Daniel looked at her purse.
“Give me the USB.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dad told you not to take it.”
“He was confused.”
“He knew exactly who you were.”
Eleanor descended slowly.
“I spent twenty years protecting this family while you ran from every responsibility your father gave you.”
“You mean while I refused to become him.”
“You already are.”
Natalie stepped between them.
“Enough. Where is the USB?”
Eleanor’s expression softened.
“Your father was carrying nothing when the paramedics arrived.”
Daniel moved toward her.
“Do you really want to lie to me at the top of those stairs?”
Eleanor’s face changed.
For a moment, Daniel saw fear.
Then she reached into her pocket and placed the USB on a marble table.
“Take it.”
Daniel did not trust the surrender.
“Why?”
“Because it’s encrypted.”
He picked it up.
Eleanor smiled faintly.
“Richard always preferred secrets no one could open.”
The old screening room was hidden behind a paneled wall in the west wing. The silver key unlocked a narrow door.
Dust covered the hallway beyond it.
Inside, the room looked untouched for decades: red velvet seats, an old film projector, shelves of VHS tapes, and a modern computer installed beneath the projection booth.
Daniel inserted the USB.
A password field appeared.
Natalie tried Richard’s birthday.
Incorrect.
Daniel tried Emily’s birthday.
Incorrect.
Then he noticed a small photograph taped beneath the keyboard.
It showed him at age eight, sitting beside Richard at a baseball game.
On the back, Richard had written:
The day you stopped calling me Dad.
Daniel remembered.
October 14, 1999.
The day his mother disappeared.
He typed 10141999.
The drive opened.
There were eight video files.
The first was named:
EMILY — IF DANIEL FINDS THIS.
Daniel clicked it.
Richard appeared on screen, seated in his private study. He wore the same navy suit he had worn at the gathering.
The recording had been made less than twenty-four hours earlier.
“If you are watching this,” Richard began, “then I failed to keep the past buried.”
Daniel leaned closer.
Richard continued.
“Daniel, everything you believe about Emily’s death is based on evidence I created.”
Natalie gasped.
Daniel felt the room narrow around him.
“I paid her mechanic. I ordered my driver to follow her. I erased the security footage from the road.”
Daniel’s hands curled into fists.
Richard looked directly into the camera.
“But I did not kill your wife.”
The image briefly distorted.
“The night Emily died, she was carrying evidence that could destroy this family. She called me from her car and asked for help.”
Richard paused.
“She also told me something about you that I had spent my entire life trying to prevent you from discovering.”
Daniel stared at the screen.
“What?”
Richard’s recorded expression filled with regret.
“You are not my biological son.”
Natalie turned toward Daniel.
He could not move.
The video continued.
“Your real father is alive. He has been watching you for thirty-five years.”
A sound came from behind the projection booth.
A floorboard creaked.
Daniel turned.
The door stood open.
Someone had entered the room.
On the computer, Richard said one final sentence before the video went black.
“And he is the person who sent you the bank statement.”
