Chapter Twenty-Three
Jayla
The roof of the abandoned hospital had been transformed into a stage.
Cameras surrounded a single chair positioned beneath floodlights. The real Rochelle Bennett sat in it with her hands restrained behind her back and silver tape covering her mouth.
My mother looked thinner than the imposter who had lived inside Malachi’s home. Her hair was tangled, her clothes were dirty, and terror filled her eyes when she saw me.
Imani grabbed my arm.
“That’s your real mama?”
“I think so.”
“This family has too many doubles, tunnels, and dead people who aren’t dead.”
“Not the time.”
“It needed to be said.”
Simone followed us onto the roof with her weapon pointed toward the ground. The sniper’s laser moved between her chest and mine.
Lenora Devereaux stood near the edge wearing a long white coat. Her silver scar reflected beneath the lights.
Two armed men guarded Rochelle. More waited on the neighboring building.
Behind Lenora, a digital clock counted down.
04:32
“You brought Evelyn’s heir,” Lenora said.
Simone’s voice trembled.
“You said nobody would be hurt.”
“I’ve said many things to keep you obedient.”
Pain moved across Simone’s face.
This woman had taken a stolen child, convinced her that Celeste’s love had been purchased, and used her confusion to turn her against the only family she had known.
Lenora looked at me.
“You resemble Evelyn when you’re angry.”
“You didn’t know her well if you thought threatening her family would make her happy.”
“Evelyn lost her nerve.”
“She developed a conscience.”
“Conscience is another name frightened people give surrender.”
My earpiece crackled.
Malachi’s voice entered.
“We’re on the eastern stairs. Keep her talking.”
For once, I was happy to follow his instructions.
“What happens when the timer ends?” I asked.
“The archive becomes public.”
“Then why bring us here?”
“Crown needs to witness the truth before his family rewrites it again.”
Lenora motioned toward a screen.
Old footage appeared.
Sebastian Devereaux lay inside a hospital bed beneath the winter garden. Burns covered the left side of his body, and tubes ran from his chest.
Nia sat beside him.
The date showed the footage had been recorded ten months after the explosion.
Malachi’s father had survived almost a year.
“You told me he died after three days,” I said.
Nia had repeated what Lenora wanted her children to believe.
“I told Nia he died,” Lenora replied. “Sebastian asked me to.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor watched the children. Any attempt to contact them would have exposed where Sebastian was hiding.”
Rochelle pulled against her restraints.
One of the guards pressed his weapon against her shoulder.
I forced myself not to react.
“What happened during that year?”
Lenora’s expression changed.
For the first time, something besides control entered her face.
Grief.
“My brother recovered enough to walk,” she said. “He helped me collect evidence against Victor. We identified the men who purchased women through our ports. Judges, politicians, police officers—entire institutions profited from their suffering.”
“You could’ve exposed them.”
“We tried.”
The footage changed.
Sebastian stood beside Lenora inside a room filled with files. He was thinner than in family photographs, but the resemblance to Malachi was clear.
A man entered.
Victor.
Malachi’s father raised both hands.
He had invited him.
“Sebastian made a deal,” Lenora said. “He offered Victor the names of our witnesses and safe houses in exchange for leaving his children alone.”
My stomach turned.
The footage showed Sebastian sliding a folder across the table.
“He betrayed the victims?” I asked.
“He chose his family.”
Lenora’s voice sharpened.
“Victor’s men killed eleven women before we moved the others. Evelyn’s closest friend was among them.”
“That doesn’t justify what you became.”
“It explains it.”
“No. It explains your pain. Your choices belong to you.”
Lenora smiled faintly.
“You sound like Evelyn.”
The stairwell door opened behind us.
Malachi stepped onto the roof with his weapon lowered.
Dorian and Nia followed several feet behind.
Every rifle on the neighboring building shifted toward them.
Malachi’s eyes moved across the roof.
Rochelle.
Imani.
Me.
Then Simone.
He looked at her for several seconds.
She lowered her weapon completely.
“Malachi,” she whispered.
He showed no surprise.
“You knew?” Lenora asked.
“I know now.”
“This is Simone,” I said. “Your sister.”
“I heard you the first time.”
Simone began crying.
“You don’t have anything else to say?”
“I have several questions.”
“That sounds like you,” she whispered.
Malachi’s eyes softened.
Barely.
But Simone saw it.
Nia stepped forward.
“My baby.”
The sniper’s laser moved to her chest.
Malachi raised one hand.
“Stay where you are.”
Nia stopped.
Simone stared at the woman who had given birth to her.
“You thought I died?”
“Yes.”
“You never looked for me?”
“I didn’t know there was anything to find.”
Lenora laughed.
“She believed what men told her. Nia always did.”
“You told me my daughter was dead,” Nia said.
“I saved her.”
“You stole her.”
“Victor ordered the nurse to smother her. I had Evelyn remove her from the hospital.”
“You could’ve returned her to me.”
“Victor would’ve found her.”
“After he died?”
“You were too weak to protect her.”
Nia lunged forward.
Dorian caught her before the sniper could fire.
Lenora looked at Malachi.
“Your father chose you over eleven women. Are you prepared to make the same decision?”
The timer reached three minutes.
A new image appeared.
The archive had been divided into two folders.
One contained evidence against criminals.
The other listed victims, witnesses, children, and everyone Lenora had hidden over the years.
“If the archive releases,” she said, “the guilty fall.”
“And the victims become targets,” I replied.
“Revolution requires sacrifice.”
“Easy to say when you’re choosing who gets sacrificed.”
Her smile disappeared.
I looked toward Simone.
“Celeste loved you.”
“She lied to me.”
“She raised you. Protected you. Stayed beside your family until she died.”
“She worked for Lenora.”
“That doesn’t erase every bedtime story, meal, or hug.”
Simone’s hand shook.
I continued.
“Lenora wants you to believe your entire life was fake because that makes her the only person you can trust.”
“Be quiet,” Lenora ordered.
“You called her your daughter while threatening her with a sniper.”
“I saved her life.”
“And now you’re using it.”
Lenora raised a small remote.
The sniper’s laser settled over my heart.
Malachi’s weapon lifted.
“Put it down,” Lenora warned.
He obeyed.
“Good boy.”
His jaw tightened.
The timer reached two minutes.
Lenora looked at him.
“You have a choice. Stop the archive release and allow the guilty to survive, or let the truth destroy everyone connected to it.”
“That isn’t a choice,” Malachi said.
“Your father believed it was.”
“I’m not my father.”
“Prove it.”
A control panel stood beside Simone.
She could stop the release, but reaching it would place her directly in the sniper’s line.
I understood Lenora’s real test.
She wanted Malachi to choose between his sister and the archive.
“Simone,” I whispered. “Don’t move.”
She looked at Malachi.
“My whole life, I thought I was standing beside your family because my mother worked for you.”
“You were family before we knew why,” Malachi said.
“You barely spoke to me.”
“I barely speak to anyone.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Simone’s mouth trembled.
“Do you want me?”
The question wounded everyone on that roof.
Malachi lowered his weapon to the ground.
“You don’t have to earn a place with us.”
Lenora’s expression hardened.
“Simone, activate the release.”
“No,” Simone said.
The timer reached one minute.
Lenora pressed the remote.
The laser moved from Simone to Noelle’s photograph on a second monitor. A live image showed Malachi’s youngest sister inside the estate with Zo?.
Lenora had access to the security cameras.
“If you refuse, someone else dies.”
Simone ran toward the control panel.
A rifle fired.
Malachi moved at the same time.
The bullet struck Simone in the side.
She collapsed against the panel, slamming her hand onto the controls.
The timer stopped at nine seconds.
Gunfire exploded across the roof.
Dorian pulled Nia behind an air-conditioning unit. Imani and I dropped behind Rochelle’s chair.
Malachi reached Simone.
Lenora ran toward a helicopter rising beyond the western side of the building.
Malachi looked from her to his bleeding sister.
For one second, he could have chased Lenora.
Instead, he dropped beside Simone.
He chose her.
I tore the tape from Rochelle’s mouth while Imani worked on the restraints.
“Are you really my mother?” I asked.
Rochelle gasped.
“What kind of question is that?”
“What did I paint on Grandma’s hallway wall when I was five?”
“Purple flowers. You blamed Nasir even though he wasn’t born.”
I cut her hands free.
“That’s her.”
Dorian’s men returned fire toward the neighboring building. The helicopter rose above us with Lenora inside.
She had escaped.
Again.
But the archive remained locked.
Malachi pressed both hands against Simone’s wound.
“Stay with me.”
She looked up at him.
“I stopped it.”
“You did.”
“Do I get to come home now?”
His face broke.
“You were already home.”
The helicopter disappeared into the darkness.
Malachi could have pursued the woman who destroyed his family.
Instead, he remained on the roof holding the sister he never knew he had.
He had made a different choice from his father.
Now Simone had to survive it.