Chapter 10 - THE DRIVER WHO CARRIED THE SECRETThe basement went completely silent.

Not the peaceful kind of silence.

The kind that came after something impossible had been said.

The kind where everyone was afraid to move because one wrong word could destroy everything.

I stared at Adrian.

My husband.

The man who had held my hand at my mother’s funeral.

The man who told me he understood what it felt like to lose someone.

The man who kissed my forehead and promised he would never abandon me.

He had been there.

The night my mother died.

He had driven the car.

My heart refused to accept it.

“No.”

The word left my mouth before I could stop it.

Adrian looked at me.

“Claire…”

I stepped back.

“No.”

My voice became stronger.

“No, don’t say my name like you’re still the person I thought you were.”

His face tightened.

“I know how this sounds.”

I laughed.

A painful, empty laugh.

“How it sounds?”

I pointed toward the screen.

“My mother died.”

“You were there.”

“You lied to me for years.”

“You married me knowing exactly who I was.”

I shook my head.

“And now you want me to believe there’s some explanation?”

Adrian looked broken.

But I couldn’t let myself care.

Not anymore.

Because every time I looked at him, I saw my mother’s last night.

I saw the fear in her eyes.

I saw her asking him for help.

And I saw the possibility that he had failed her.

The officer stepped between us.

“Mr. Cole.”

Adrian looked at him.

“I need the complete story.”

Adrian closed his eyes.

For a moment, he looked exhausted.

Like he had been waiting years for this moment.

“I was twenty-four.”

His voice was quiet.

“My father called me that night.”

Charles immediately interrupted.

“That’s enough.”

The officer turned.

“Mr. Cole, you don’t get to decide that.”

Charles’s expression hardened.

“You have no idea what you’re involving yourself in.”

The officer stared at him.

“I’m involved because a woman was assaulted tonight, evidence was hidden in this house, and now we have a possible connection to a fifteen-year-old suspicious death.”

Charles said nothing.

Adrian continued.

“My father told me Elizabeth Bennett was dangerous.”

I looked at him.

“Dangerous?”

He nodded.

“He said she was trying to destroy everything.”

My hands tightened.

“My mother was trying to expose him.”

“Yes.”

Adrian looked down.

“I didn’t know the truth then.”

“Then what did you think?”

He swallowed.

“I thought my father was protecting our family.”

The words hurt.

Because they sounded exactly like every excuse I had heard all night.

Protecting the family.

Saving the family.

Keeping things together.

All those words had been used to hide cruelty.

Adrian continued.

“He told me to follow her.”

“Watch her.”

“Report where she went.”

My eyes filled with anger.

“So you were spying on her too.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t try to deny it.

“I followed her to the parking garage.”

The room became colder.

“She was meeting someone.”

“Who?”

Adrian looked at Charles.

“My father never told me.”

Charles laughed quietly.

“You still don’t understand, do you?”

Everyone looked at him.

Charles stepped forward.

“You think Adrian was the villain?”

His smile widened slightly.

“He was a child.”

Adrian’s face changed.

“Don’t.”

Charles ignored him.

“He wanted to be a hero.”

“He thought he could save everyone.”

Charles looked at me.

“But he was weak.”

Adrian’s hands clenched.

“I was there because of you.”

Charles smiled.

“No.”

“You were there because you were exactly what I created you to be.”

The words hit Adrian harder than any accusation.

I saw it.

The pain.

The realization.

The anger he had buried for years.

The officer looked at Charles.

“Did you order him to follow Elizabeth?”

Charles said nothing.

That silence was enough.

The officer continued.

“Did you know Elizabeth Bennett was in danger?”

Still nothing.

Then Charles smiled.

“You’re asking the wrong questions.”

Nobody spoke.

He looked at Adrian.

“Tell her the rest.”

Adrian looked terrified.

“Don’t.”

Charles leaned back.

“Tell her what happened after the accident.”

My stomach dropped.

Accident.

That word.

The word everyone had used for fifteen years.

I looked at Adrian.

“What happened after?”

He didn’t answer.

“Adrian.”

His eyes filled with tears.

“I found her.”

My heart stopped.

“You found my mother?”

He nodded slowly.

“After the crash.”

The basement became silent.

“She was alive.”

I stopped breathing.

“What?”

Adrian looked like he hated himself.

“She was alive when I reached the car.”

The words broke something inside me.

My mother had been alive.

And nobody told me.

Nobody.

I whispered:

“How long?”

Adrian looked away.

“Several minutes.”

My knees almost gave out.

The officer quickly moved closer.

“Claire.”

I ignored him.

I looked only at Adrian.

“What did you do?”

Adrian’s face collapsed.

“I tried to help her.”

“Tried?”

My voice shook.

“What does that mean?”

He closed his eyes.

“I called emergency services.”

“Then what?”

Silence.

A terrible silence.

“Adrian.”

He whispered:

“My father arrived.”

The room went cold.

Charles’s expression changed slightly.

Only slightly.

But enough.

“What did he do?” I asked.

Adrian couldn’t answer.

Maya covered her mouth.

Because she already knew.

The officer looked at Charles.

“Mr. Cole?”

Charles stayed silent.

Adrian finally spoke.

“He told me to leave.”

My eyes widened.

“What?”

“He said the police couldn’t find me there.”

“He said I would go to prison.”

“He said my life would be over.”

I stared at him.

“And you left?”

Tears filled Adrian’s eyes.

“Yes.”

The word destroyed me.

“You left my mother there?”

“I thought he would help her.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

My voice broke.

“You believed him.”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

Adrian looked at the floor.

“The car exploded.”

Nobody moved.

The officer frowned.

“Exploded?”

Adrian nodded.

“The fuel line had been damaged.”

My breathing stopped.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

“No.”

“Someone wanted to make sure she died.”

I looked at Charles.

And he looked back at me.

Calm.

Almost bored.

Like this was just another business problem.

Then something happened.

Something nobody expected.

Eleanor suddenly stepped forward.

“You knew.”

Everyone turned.

Charles looked at her.

“What?”

Eleanor’s face was filled with anger.

“You knew she was alive.”

The room froze.

I looked at her.

“What did you say?”

Eleanor looked at Charles.

“You told me she died immediately.”

Charles said nothing.

“You told me there was no chance.”

Her voice shook.

“But she was alive.”

The officer turned toward her.

“Mrs. Cole, explain.”

Eleanor looked at the floor.

“I was there too.”

My heart stopped.

“You were there?”

She nodded.

“The night Elizabeth died.”

Adrian looked shocked.

“Mom…”

Eleanor closed her eyes.

“I saw everything.”

The room became unbearable.

I stepped toward her.

“Then tell me.”

My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me what happened to my mother.”

Eleanor looked at me.

And tears filled her eyes.

“She wasn’t killed because she found the files.”

A pause.

“She was killed because she found the person who betrayed her.”

My heartbeat increased.

“Who?”

Eleanor looked at Adrian.

Then at Charles.

Then back at me.

And whispered:

“Your mother’s final mistake was trusting someone she thought was trying to save you.”

I froze.

Because I already knew the answer.

But I needed to hear it.

“Who?”

Eleanor’s lips trembled.

Then she said the words that shattered the entire room.

“Your father.”

Nobody moved.

The officer stared.

Maya gasped.

Adrian looked confused.

And I felt the world disappear beneath my feet.

My father.

The man everyone said abandoned us.

The man I spent my whole life believing left us alone.

Was somehow connected to my mother’s death.

Then the computer suddenly made a sound.

A new file appeared on the screen.

A file that had been hidden until now.

The title appeared.

ELIZABETH BENNETT — THE REAL TRAITOR

Everyone stared.

Nobody dared click it.

Until Charles smiled.

“Now,” he said quietly.

“Claire finally gets to know who her mother really was.”

The screen opened.

And the first image appeared.

My mother.

Standing beside my father.

Holding the same folder she died protecting.

But what shocked me wasn’t the picture.

It was the person standing behind them.

Watching.

Recording.

Waiting.

Because the person in the background was someone I recognized.

Someone who had been pretending to help me all night.

Someone who had been hiding the truth from the beginning.

The image sharpened.

And I whispered the name.

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“Maya…”

Because my brother’s wife had been there too.