Chapter 6: The Call From the Dead
I stared at the name on Margaret's phone.
Lorenzo Valmont.
My father's name.
For twelve years, I had watched it printed on wine labels, auction catalogues, and newspaper obituaries. I had whispered it into the darkness when nightmares woke me. I had written it on birthday cards I could never send.
Now it was glowing on a phone screen in the middle of a deserted parking lot.
Margaret couldn't seem to move.
“Answer it,” I said.
She shook her head.
“Evelyn—”
“Answer it!””
My voice cracked across the pavement.
Margaret pressed the screen.
A man's face appeared.
He looked older than the father I remembered, with silver hair, deep lines around his eyes, and a scar running from his left temple toward his jaw.
But his eyes were the same.
Dark brown.
Warm.
Familiar.
I had inherited them.
“Evelyn,” he said.
The world disappeared.
I heard the rain. The distant hum of traffic. My own breath breaking apart in my chest.
But I saw only his face.
“Daddy?””
His lips trembled.
“Oh, sweetheart.””
I stumbled backward and caught myself against the car.
“No.””
He looked at me with an expression of such unbearable tenderness that I almost collapsed.
“I know,” he whispered.
“I know what this looks like.””
I pressed both hands over my mouth.
“You're dead.””
“I was supposed to be.””
“What does that mean?””
He glanced away from the camera.
“Margaret, is she alone?””
Margaret looked at me.
“Yes.””
“Are you certain?””
“Richard left.””
My father closed his eyes.
“Then listen carefully. Both of you. You have very little time.””
I moved toward the phone.
“Where are you?””
“I can't tell you that yet.””
“Where have you been for twelve years?””
He flinched.
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to throw the phone into the street. I wanted to climb through the screen and hold him so tightly that he could never disappear again.
Instead, I heard myself ask the question that had haunted every birthday since his funeral.
“Why didn't you come back for me?””
His eyes filled with tears.
“Because the people who wanted me dead knew they couldn't control me while you were safe. They used you to keep me hidden.””
I shook my head.
“You let me believe you were dead.””
“I thought it was the only way to keep you alive.””
“You thought wrong!””
My father lowered his gaze.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“I did.””
The admission stopped me.
He didn't defend himself. He didn't tell me I was too young to understand. He simply looked at me with the exhaustion of a man who had carried the same mistake for twelve years.
“I have thought about you every day,” he continued.
“Every birthday. Every Christmas. Every night I wondered whether you were warm enough, whether you were eating properly, whether you still remembered the songs I used to sing.””
I wiped my face with the heel of my hand.
“You could have called.””
“I did. Once.””
“When?””
“Your fifteenth birthday. I called Margaret's house and asked to speak to you. Richard answered.””
My aunt covered her mouth.
“What did he say?”” I asked.
“He told me you'd been adopted by another family. He said you'd changed your name and wanted nothing to do with the Valmonts.””
I turned toward Margaret.
She looked horrified.
“He told me you were dead,” she whispered.
“He said you had died in a car accident two years after the funeral.””
My father stared at her.
“He told me the same thing about you.””
For a moment, nobody spoke.
We had all been living inside separate lies, each person convinced the others had abandoned them.
Then I remembered Richard's words.
Your father wasn't the only person who knew about Vault 17.
I looked at the phone.
“Dad, what is Vault 17?””
His expression changed.
“Did you find the bottle?””
“Yes.””
“Did Richard take it?””
“Yes.””
My father swore under his breath.
“Then he's going to open the vault.””
“Isn't that what we want?””
“No.””
He leaned closer to the camera.
“Evelyn, the vault was never designed to hide wine. It was designed to hide evidence.””
“What evidence?””
“Financial records, original production ledgers, correspondence, and a recording I made the night your mother disappeared.””
My throat tightened.
“What happened to Mom?””
My father went silent.
Then he said, “Your mother didn't betray me.””
I thought of Margaret's trembling confession.
“The blood on her hands?””
“She was trying to save me.””
“From Richard?””
“From Richard and someone else.””
“Who?””
My father looked toward something outside the camera's view.
“Your grandfather.””
The same name Margaret had spoken moments earlier.
I shook my head.
“Your father died before I was born.””
“No,” he said.
“He disappeared before you were born. We believed he was dead because Richard helped us bury the truth.””
“Why would your own father want to hurt you?””
“Because he believed the vineyard belonged to him. He built it with my mother, then tried to turn it into an empire. When I refused to help him launder money through the wine auctions, he threatened to destroy everything.””
My stomach turned.
“Is he alive?””
My father didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Margaret sank onto the curb.
“Dear God.””
My father continued.
“Evelyn, there's something else. The bottle Richard took is not the only key to Vault 17.””
I remembered the brass key in my pocket.
I pulled it out and held it toward the screen.
His eyes widened.
“Where did you get that?””
“Marta.””
He exhaled sharply.
“Thank God she's alive.””
“Richard said he had her.””
“He'll use her to force you into the open. You must not return to the estate alone.””
“I already have the key.””
“Then destroy it.””
I stared at him.
“You told me to find the vault.””
“I told you that before I knew Richard had the bottle. If he opens the vault before you reach it, he'll know exactly where the evidence is hidden.””
“But if I destroy the key, how do I get inside?””
My father hesitated.
Then he gave me a code.
“Seven. Three. One.
Nine. Two.””
I repeated the numbers.
“What's that?””
“The combination to the emergency lock. The key opens the outer door. The code opens the inner chamber.””
He paused.
“But there's one thing you need to understand. The evidence inside Vault 17 will expose Richard. It will also expose someone you love.””
My gaze shifted toward Margaret.
She was staring at the pavement.
“Who?””
My father looked directly into the camera.
“Your mother.””
I felt a cold emptiness open inside me.
“You just said she was innocent.””
“She is innocent of my death. But she did something twelve years ago that could destroy the entire Valmont family.””
“What did she do?””
Before he could answer, a sharp crack sounded behind him.
My father jerked sideways.
The phone fell.
For a moment, the screen showed only a dark ceiling and a blur of movement.
Then I heard a man's voice.
“Lorenzo. You were warned.””
My father shouted something I couldn't make out.
The phone scraped across the floor.
A second voice spoke, quieter and more terrifying.
“Take the girl to Vault 17. If she sees what her mother did, she'll bring the rest of the family to us.””
The screen went black.
I stood frozen in the rain.
Margaret grabbed my arm.
“Evelyn, we have to go.””
I couldn't move.
My father was alive.
Someone had found him.
And they had just mentioned taking me to Vault 17.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
It contained a single photograph.
My mother stood beside a hospital bed, holding a newborn baby wrapped in a white blanket.
Behind her stood Richard Whitmore.
May you like
At the bottom of the image, someone had typed a message.
*Your father raised the wrong child. Ask your mother what happened to the baby born before you.*
