Chapter 5
The old kennel road had been sealed for eighteen years.
Dominic opened it before sunset.
Donna insisted on coming.
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You’re fifty-five.”
“Yes.”
“And still think saying no louder makes you my father.”
Elena almost smiled.
Dominic did not.
Donna came.
So did Elena.
Peter Shaw led four bodyguards.
Michael was brought separately.
Hattie remained at the estate.
Dominic did not trust her near the key.
The kennel buildings sat beyond a line of old oak trees.
Stone walls.
Rusting iron runs.
An abandoned training yard.
The place smelled of rain and dead leaves.
Donna stopped when she saw the main building.
“I hate this place.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You’ve been here.”
“Yes.”
“With Father?”
“Yes.”
“With Silas?”
Donna did not answer.
The black key opened a narrow iron door behind the largest kennel.
A staircase descended underground.
Michael whispered:
“Jesus.”
Donna looked at him.
“You were here once.”
Michael frowned.
“No.”
“You were thirteen.”
“I would remember.”
Donna’s expression broke.
“No.”
Her voice became quiet.
“You wouldn’t.”
Dominic turned.
“What did you do?”
Donna stared at the stairs.
“Not me.”
“Who?”
“Silas.”
They descended.
The underground room was not a dungeon.
Worse.
A training room.
Leather straps hung from one wall.
Old wooden chairs.
A table.
A bell.
A row of hooks where personal objects had once been placed.
Michael touched his temple.
Something about the room affected him.
Dominic noticed.
“You remember.”
“No.”
Michael’s breathing changed.
“Maybe.”
Donna walked toward the far wall.
She pressed one loose stone.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside lay a small wooden horse.
Paint faded.
One wheel missing.
Michael staggered backward.
“That’s mine.”
Donna closed her eyes.
Dominic looked at him.
“You recognize it.”
“Father gave me one.”
“No,” Donna whispered.
“Silas gave it to you.”
Michael stared.
Memory moved.
Not fully.
Enough.
Donna continued.
“Richard found out Silas had been bringing you here.”
“At thirteen?”
“Earlier.”
Michael’s face went white.
“How earlier?”
“Ten.”
Dominic turned on his mother.
“You knew.”
“Not until later.”
“What was Silas doing?”
Donna looked around the room.
“Teaching him.”
Michael laughed nervously.
“Teaching me what?”
“How to obey pain.”
Silence.
“How to lie without blinking.”
Michael’s face hardened.
“How to choose who gets hurt when you can only save one person.”
Dominic felt disgust.
Not training.
Conditioning.
Silas had been shaping a child.
“Why Michael?”
Donna’s eyes moved to her younger son.
“Because he hated Dominic.”
Michael flinched.
“I was a kid.”
“Yes.”
“Kids hate older brothers.”
“Yes.”
“You’re saying Silas wanted to turn me against him.”
“Yes.”
Dominic looked toward the old bell.
“What stopped him?”
“Richard.”
Donna’s voice softened.
“Your father found out.”
“What did he do?”
“He beat Silas nearly to death.”
Michael stared.
“Father.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t he kill him?”
“Silas had men.”
“Inside the family.”
“Yes.”
Donna walked toward the wooden horse.
“Richard realized killing him openly could split the Colemans.”
“So he planned something else.”
“Yes.”
“The key.”
Donna shook her head.
“The key came later.”
“What did Father protect?”
She looked at Dominic.
“A child.”
Again.
The mysterious boy.
“Who?”
Donna’s mouth trembled.
Before she answered, Peter Shaw called from the stairs.
“Dominic.”
Something in his voice changed the room.
Dominic looked up.
Peter descended holding a black cloth.
Inside was a recently cut length of leather.
A dog leash.
Same shepherd’s knot.
“Where?”
“Outside.”
“Who left it?”
“No one saw.”
Peter handed it over.
A small brass tag hung from the clasp.
Dominic turned it.
One word had been engraved.
SECOND.
Michael stared.
Donna went pale.
Dominic looked at his mother.
“Second what?”
She finally answered.
“Second son.”
Dominic frowned.
“Michael is the second son.”
Donna looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“No.”
May you like
Then she whispered:
“Richard had another son before either of you.”
