Chapter Two The Name Beneath Her Own #3
Anthony compared them to a fingerprint recovered from Amara’s surviving Covenant file.
Match.
Naomi stopped breathing.
“When was the most recent payment?”
Anthony looked at her.
“Eleven days ago.”
Evelyn began crying.
Naomi stared at the screen.
Amara had survived.
Not only the birth.
Not only Elias.
She had been alive in London less than two weeks earlier.
Lucas grabbed his coat.
“We go to the unit.”
Commander Ross shook her head.
“No.”
Lucas looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because someone maintaining a hidden identity for twenty-two years may have the location monitored.”
Naomi stood.
“Then monitor it back.”
Ross almost smiled.
“That was the plan.”
They arrived after dark.
The storage facility stood in an industrial neighborhood beyond central London.
No sign.
No windows.
Rows of anonymous metal doors beneath surveillance lights.
Naomi remained inside an armored vehicle while tactical officers cleared the structure.
The unit registered to Mara Ellis was number 214.
No explosives.
No occupants.
Commander Ross finally allowed Naomi and Lucas inside.
The metal door rolled upward.
Naomi expected boxes.
Old furniture.
Maybe documents.
Instead...
A sewing studio waited behind it.
Dress forms.
Fabric rolls.
Pattern tables.
Industrial machines.
Sketches pinned across the walls.
Naomi stepped inside slowly.
Every design focused on fuller women.
Strong shoulders.
Defined waists.
Color.
Structure.
Movement.
Clothing that never apologized for the bodies wearing it.
Naomi felt tears gathering.
“She was a designer.”
Lucas walked beside her.
“Like you.”
“No.”
Naomi touched one sketch.
“She designed the way I do.”
Evelyn entered behind them and immediately started crying.
“She always loved clothing.”
Naomi looked toward her.
“You knew?”
“She made half my wardrobe before you were born.”
A photograph hung above the largest worktable.
Amara.
Older.
Silver beginning at her temples.
Alive.
She stood beside Daniel Mercer.
And Elias James.
The photograph was dated six months earlier.
Naomi’s relief disappeared.
“She’s with them.”
Commander Ross examined the image.
“Not necessarily willingly.”
Lucas looked toward another wall.
“Naomi.”
She followed his gaze.
Dozens of photographs.
Every one of Naomi.
Graduation.
Birthdays.
College runway shows.
Her internship arrival.
The museum.
Lucas.
The restaurant.
The penthouse.
Her life documented from a distance.
Naomi’s stomach turned.
Amara had watched her for years.
Never approaching.
Never revealing herself.
At the center of the wall was a handwritten message.
Naomi stepped closer.
The handwriting was elegant and strong.
I promised Joseph I would not claim you until you chose the truth for yourself.
Beneath it:
If you found this room, he was right.
Naomi’s eyes filled.
Another line followed.
Do not trust Elias. Do not trust Mercer. Do not trust me simply because I gave birth to you.
Lucas read over her shoulder.
“That sounds like someone expecting you to decide for yourself.”
Naomi touched the final line.
Spain. The fifth bell. Come before the House chooses for you.
Commander Ross immediately checked the room.
“No recent surveillance device.”
Anthony opened a drawer.
Inside were two plane tickets.
London to Barcelona.
Departure the following evening.
Passenger one:
Naomi James.
Passenger two:
Lucas Taylor.
Lucas stared at the tickets.
“She knew I’d come.”
Naomi looked toward the wall of photographs.
“She knows me.”
He touched her back.
“She knows us.”
Naomi turned toward him.
For the first time since reading the balcony note, fear was no longer the strongest emotion inside her.
Anger had become purpose.
Her biological mother was alive.
Elias had been waiting.
Mercer had been watching.
The House of the Bluebird expected her in Spain.
And everyone seemed convinced they understood what Naomi would do next.
She picked up both tickets.
Lucas watched her.
“You’re thinking.”
“Yes.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably.”
Naomi tore the tickets in half.
Everyone stared.
Lucas’s eyebrows rose.
“I assume we're not flying commercial.”
“We’re going to Spain.”
Commander Ross frowned.
“Then why destroy the tickets?”
Naomi dropped the pieces onto the table.
“Because I am done arriving where people expect me.”
A slow smile appeared on Lucas’s face.
“That is extremely attractive.”
“Focus.”
“I’m trying.”
Naomi looked toward Ross.
“We choose our route. Our time. Our team.”
“And your mother?” Ross asked.
Naomi glanced at Amara’s photograph.
“She has spent thirty years deciding when I’m ready.”
Her expression hardened.
“Now she gets to wait until I decide she’s ready to meet me.”
Lucas took her hand.
Outside, London disappeared beneath the night.
Inside the hidden studio, Naomi stood surrounded by the work of a woman whose blood had shaped her without ever raising her.
Book Two had begun with a question about her identity.
The answer was no longer frightening her.
It was making her dangerous.
And somewhere in Spain, beneath ancient stone and five silent bells, the family that had been waiting for Naomi James was about to discover that she had no intention of becoming anyone’s heir without a fight.