Chapter 6 - The Man With Ethan's Face
Darkness swallowed Grand Central Station.
People screamed.
Luggage crashed across the marble floor.
Emergency alarms erupted from every direction.
Ethan dropped to one knee beside the elderly janitor.
No pulse.
The old man was gone.
Another gunshot echoed through the station.
This one struck a concrete pillar inches from Ethan's head.
The shooter wasn't aiming randomly.
Someone wanted the satchel.
Ethan grabbed it and rolled behind a ticket counter.
The emergency lights flickered to life.
Dim red illumination washed over the terminal.
The opposite platform...
Was empty.
The man with Ethan's face had vanished.
So had Mariana.
...
"Move!"
A transit police officer pulled Ethan toward an emergency corridor.
"There's an active shooter!"
Ethan hesitated.
"The woman on Platform Four—"
"Forget Platform Four!"
The officer shoved him through a steel door.
"We have to evacuate!"
As the heavy door slammed shut, Ethan caught one final glimpse of the terminal through its narrow window.
Three men in black tactical clothing entered from the east entrance.
None of them helped the injured.
None of them looked frightened.
They ignored everyone.
Every one of them headed directly toward Locker 317.
They had known exactly where to go.
...
Twenty minutes later...
Detective Laura Bennett arrived.
She immediately sealed the entire station.
The forensic team examined the janitor's body while Ethan sat inside a command vehicle wrapped in a blanket.
Laura climbed inside.
"You weren't the target."
Ethan looked up.
"The janitor was."
"No."
She slid a photograph across the table.
It showed the bullet trajectory.
"The sniper deliberately missed you."
"Then why kill him?"
"Because he recognized someone."
She tapped another photograph.
Security footage recovered from a nearby café.
Seconds before the blackout...
The elderly janitor had looked directly toward Platform Four.
Toward the man with Ethan's face.
"He knew him," Laura said.
"Who is he?"
"We don't know."
"But we enhanced the footage."
She handed Ethan another print.
The resemblance was terrifying.
Same jaw.
Same eyes.
Same scar above the eyebrow.
Only one difference.
The stranger's left eye was green.
Ethan's was blue.
Twins.
...
Back at police headquarters...
The leather satchel finally lay on an evidence table.
Laura carefully unzipped it.
Inside were only four items.
A leather notebook.
A brass compass.
An old cassette tape.
A sealed envelope marked:
For the First Brother.
Ethan stared at the words.
First Brother.
Not Ethan.
Not by name.
Someone had expected only one twin to reach this point.
Laura carefully opened the envelope.
Inside rested a single sheet of paper.
Only one sentence had been written.
If you're reading this...
Your brother has already failed.
Silence filled the room.
"What does that mean?" Ethan whispered.
Laura unfolded another page hidden underneath.
This one contained coordinates.
No explanation.
Just numbers.
Samuel entered the room at that exact moment.
His shoulder remained bandaged, but his eyes immediately widened.
"I know those coordinates."
"You do?"
Samuel nodded slowly.
"They point to Bell Manor."
"My grandfather's estate?"
"No."
Samuel looked directly at Ethan.
"The place where you were born."
...
Elsewhere...
Mariana sat inside a black SUV speeding away from the city.
Beside her sat the man who looked exactly like Ethan.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes.
Finally Mariana broke the silence.
"Why didn't you stop him?"
The young man watched the road ahead.
"Because he deserved the truth."
"You could've taken the satchel."
"I could've."
"Then why didn't you?"
A faint smile crossed his face.
"Because he opened the right locker."
Mariana frowned.
"There are others?"
He nodded.
"Arthur never trusted a single hiding place."
She studied him carefully.
"You really are Ethan's brother?"
He looked out the window.
"My name isn't Ethan."
"What is it?"
After a long silence...
"Elijah."
...
Rodrigo stormed into his penthouse office.
The man in the gray coat stood calmly beside the window.
"You lied to me."
The stranger said nothing.
"There are two heirs."
"Yes."
"You knew."
"Yes."
Rodrigo slammed both hands onto the desk.
"Which one controls the trust?"
The gray-coated man smiled.
"Neither."
Rodrigo blinked.
"What?"
"The trust activates only when both brothers stand together."
Silence.
Rodrigo slowly stepped backward.
"That's impossible."
"Arthur designed it that way."
"Then why chase Ethan?"
"Because..."
The stranger's smile widened.
"...one brother is enough to unlock the money."
"But both are needed to unlock what matters."
Rodrigo swallowed.
"What matters?"
The stranger looked toward the night sky.
"The Archive."
...
Late that evening...
Samuel unlocked the leather notebook.
Every page had been written in Arthur Bell's elegant handwriting.
The first twenty pages described financial accounts.
Shipping companies.
Private investments.
Offshore trusts.
Then...
Everything changed.
Page twenty-one contained a family tree.
Two names had been circled.
Ethan Carter.
Elijah Bell.
Connected by one handwritten sentence.
Separate them until the Raven moves.
Samuel's expression darkened.
He turned another page.
This one listed dates stretching back thirty years.
Every five years.
Every date corresponded to a lottery jackpot somewhere in the world.
Beside each jackpot...
One name.
One winner.
One outcome.
Protected.
Missing.
Dead.
Disappeared.
The final entry had today's date.
No winner listed.
Only four handwritten words.
The game begins again.
Samuel quietly closed the notebook.
He finally understood.
The lottery...
Had never been about money.
It had been a way of selecting people.
Testing them.
Preparing them.
For something much larger.
...
Near midnight...
Ethan returned to his grandmother's house under police protection.
Two officers searched every room.
Nothing unusual.
No intruders.
No hidden devices.
Exhausted, Ethan entered his bedroom.
Something immediately felt wrong.
The bed had been made.
He never made his bed.
Someone had been there.
Resting on the pillow...
Was a small wooden box.
Inside it lay Ethan's wedding ring.
The one Mariana had thrown onto Rodrigo's desk.
Beneath the ring rested a folded note.
This time it wasn't signed.
Only seven handwritten words.
She loved you more than you know.
Ethan frowned.
Mariana had betrayed him.
Manipulated him.
Lied to him.
Who would write something like this?
He turned the note over.
On the back was a tiny drawing.
A raven.
Standing on a key.
At that exact moment...
A hidden phone inside the wooden box began ringing.
Not Ethan's phone.
An old satellite phone.
It had been placed there waiting for him.
The screen displayed only one word.
BROTHER.
Ethan hesitated...
Then answered.
A familiar voice spoke quietly.
Not Mariana.
Not Samuel.
Not Detective Bennett.
The man from Platform Four.
Elijah.
"Ethan..."
"We're both hunting the wrong enemy."
Before Ethan could respond, Elijah whispered one sentence that shattered everything Ethan thought he understood.
May you like
"The man calling himself Arthur Bell..."
"...was never our grandfather."
