Chapter 12 - The Bookstore That Burned Twice
Miriam Hart Books had been reduced to brick walls and blackened beams.
At least, that was what Clara remembered.
When she and Cole arrived in Briarwood, the ruined storefront still stood between a bakery and an empty tailor shop. The upper windows were boarded. Weeds pushed through cracks in the pavement. A faded gold letter M remained above the door.
The fire had been ruled accidental.
A faulty heater.
Clara had accepted that explanation because grief left little room for suspicion. Miriam had been found in the upstairs apartment, overcome by smoke before firefighters arrived. Clara had identified her through a wedding ring and dental records.
Now every official record connected to her childhood felt like another possible lie.
Cole cut the chain across the entrance.
Inside, the air smelled of damp ash.
“Who owns the building?” Clara asked.
“A holding company created two months after the fire.”
“Connected to the Continuance?”
“Connected to Anna Voss.”
They searched beneath collapsed shelves and rotting floorboards. Nothing appeared disturbed until Clara reached the children’s section.
Miriam had painted a blue door on the back wall, surrounded by stars and moons. As a child, Clara believed it led to a secret country.
The painted doorknob was real.
She turned it.
A narrow panel opened.
Behind it, stairs descended to a basement untouched by fire.
Electric lights came on automatically.
The underground room contained preserved books, filing cabinets, medical supplies, and a desk covered with recent newspapers. A kettle still held warm water.
Someone had been there that morning.
On the wall hung photographs of Clara’s life after Miriam’s death.
Her wedding.
Her mother’s funeral.
Her first year at Vale House.
Julian entering the Halcyon.
Sienna meeting Voss.
Eleanor visiting Wren.
At the center was a photograph of Miriam.
Older than Clara remembered her.
Taken only three months earlier.
Clara’s knees weakened.
“No.”
Cole examined the image. “We need to verify when this was taken.”
Clara knew the green coat. Miriam had worn it every winter for fifteen years. The photograph showed her standing outside a train station in Montreal, looking directly into the camera.
Alive.
A tape recorder sat on the desk.
Clara pressed play.
“Clara, forgive me.”
Miriam’s voice filled the basement.
“I allowed you to believe I was dead because Wren had found me. If I stayed near you, he would have used me to force the archive open. Anna Voss helped stage the fire. At the time, I believed she had rejected her brother’s work.”
Clara’s relief turned sharp.
“At the time,” Cole repeated.
The recording continued.
“Anna saved me, but she never stopped believing the identity program could be used for good. She thinks stolen children can be returned by controlling the same system that stole them. She is wrong. No one should possess that power.”
A drawer clicked open beneath the recorder.
Inside lay a train ticket dated the following evening and a brass key marked 9.
The ticket was for Montreal.
“Do not follow unless the witness phase has begun,” Miriam said. “If it has, bring the four candidates. The archive is not finished. Wren was only its custodian, not its creator.”
The tape ended.
Clara stared at the ticket.
Cole called the number attached to the booking. The reservation was valid. A private compartment had been purchased under Clara’s maiden name.
Julian objected when she told him.
He had been discharged under medical supervision and returned to a guarded hotel rather than Vale House. The poison had weakened him, but his anger remained intact.
“This is a trap.”
“Everything is a trap.”
“Then stop walking into them.”
Clara looked at him across the hotel suite.
“You do not get to tell me when I have enough truth.”
His face tightened. “I am trying to keep you alive.”
“You used that sentence to justify every lie.”
Julian lowered his voice. “What do you want from me?”
“The one thing you never gave freely.”
“What?”
“A choice.”
She removed her wedding ring and placed it on the table.
Julian looked at it as though it were a weapon.
“I am going to Montreal,” Clara said. “Not as your wife. Not as an Armitage heir. As Miriam’s daughter.”
She left before he answered.
The next evening, Clara boarded the train with Cole, Sebastian, Sienna, and Julian.
Four candidates.
Gabriel remained with Evelyn in protective custody. Eleanor was held in a federal detention hospital. Wren had awakened but would speak only one sentence:
The witness must remember the first death.
The train crossed the border after midnight.
At 2:09 a.m., it entered a mountain tunnel.
The lights failed.
When they returned, the carriage door was open.
Cole was missing.
On his seat lay a childhood photograph of the three brothers.
May you like
Someone had written a new caption beneath it.
ONLY TWO LEFT THE CLINIC ALIVE.
