Chapter 10 - THE MAUSOLEUM
Night had fallen by the time they returned.
Nathan did not announce Julian’s presence.
He brought him through the northern wall using an old service entrance.
Grace stayed close.
Dante almost drew his weapon when he saw Julian.
Nathan stopped him.
“Later.”
The family mausoleum stood beyond the eastern gardens.
Arthur.
Nathan’s mother.
Julian’s empty grave.
Generations of Cole names carved into stone.
The place where the family pretended death made things simple.
Nathan entered first.
Julian walked toward his own tomb.
He touched the stone.
JULIAN COLE.
BELOVED SON.
BELOVED BROTHER.
He laughed softly.
“Beloved.”
Nathan said nothing.
Julian pushed against the lower edge.
The stone shifted.
A hidden door opened.
Nathan stared.
“You knew.”
“I escaped through here twelve years ago.”
“What?”
Julian looked at him.
“Arthur hid me beneath my own grave for eleven weeks.”
Grace whispered:
“Jesus.”
Nathan’s face hardened.
“Our father.”
“Yes.”
“He kept you here.”
“To protect me.”
Julian smiled without warmth.
“That was his word too.”
They descended.
Another chamber.
Older than the chapel room.
No restraints.
Comfortable chair.
Bed.
Liquor shelf.
Arthur had hidden his son like an expensive secret.
Nathan looked at Julian.
“Why leave?”
“Because I realized Father wasn’t protecting me.”
“What was he doing?”
“Waiting to decide whether I was useful.”
Silence.
Julian continued.
“Thomas got me out.”
Grace’s eyes filled again.
Her father’s shadow kept becoming different.
At the end of the chamber was another corridor.
Recent footprints.
Nathan moved.
They heard a child crying.
Grace ran.
“Lily!”
A door opened.
Lily sat on a small bed.
Alive.
Unhurt.
Grace fell to her knees and pulled her close.
Lily sobbed.
“Mommy.”
Nathan’s chest tightened.
He checked the room.
No Edwin.
No guard.
On the table was a plate of untouched food.
A black card.
One chair.
Nathan picked it up.
On the back:
YOU FOUND THE CHILD. NOW FIND THE FATHER.
Nathan stared.
Julian looked over his shoulder.
“What father?”
Nathan’s voice lowered.
“Maybe ours.”
Julian laughed.
“Arthur is dead.”
Grace looked toward another object on the table.
A pocket watch.
Gold.
Nathan recognized it.
Arthur Cole’s.
He had been buried with it.
Again.
Something from a grave.
Julian picked it up.
Opened it.
Inside was a small photograph.
Arthur.
Edwin.
Richard Hayes.
Thomas Miller.
Marcus Reed.
And a sixth man Nathan did not know.
The Black Table.
On the back:
ONE OF US NEVER SAT DOWN.
Nathan frowned.
Julian stared at the unknown man.
Then went pale.
“I’ve seen him.”
“Who?”
“At the bombing.”
Nathan turned.
“Twelve years ago?”
“Yes.”
“He was standing across the street before the car exploded.”
“Name?”
“I never knew.”
Grace looked toward Lily.
The child had stopped crying.
She was staring at the photograph.
Nathan noticed.
“Lily?”
She pointed to the unknown man.
“That’s Grandpa.”
The room went silent.
Grace looked at her.
“No, sweetheart.”
Lily nodded.
“He gave me juice.”
Nathan’s face hardened.
“When?”
“Today.”
Grace went white.
“You saw him?”
“He said he knows Mommy.”
Nathan looked at Grace.
She stared at the photograph.
“I don’t know him.”
Julian whispered:
“He’s not her grandfather.”
Nathan looked at him.
“No.”
May you like
Julian’s expression darkened.
“He’s ours.”
