CHAPTER TWELVE
The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
They left the house before sunrise.
Nobody spoke during the first hour.
The road beside the river was empty, and the morning mist hung low over the water.
Gila sat in the back seat holding the photograph.
She had looked at it so many times that she could now see every detail without turning it over.
Her mother.
Alive.
Standing beside the river.
The date on the photograph was only six months old.
Six months.
That meant the woman she had mourned for years had been alive long after Gila believed she was dead.
Thelma finally broke the silence.
"Do you believe him?"
Gila stared through the window.
"I don't know."
"But the photograph..."
"Could be fake."
The man beside her looked at the picture.
"It doesn't look fake."
Gila turned toward him.
"That's not enough."
"I know."
She looked back at the road.
"I need proof."
Thelma nodded.
"We'll find it."
Gila looked at her.
"You knew something."
Thelma went quiet.
"What?"
"You knew my mother was connected to the river."
"I knew there were rumors."
"You never told me."
"I didn't know if they were true."
"You should have told me."
"I was trying to protect you."
Gila's voice cracked.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Silence.
She looked away.
"Everyone protects me by lying to me."
Thelma lowered her eyes.
"I was afraid of what you'd find."
"Well."
Gila held up the photograph.
"We found it."
The vehicle slowed as they approached the settlement.
Gila looked at the river again.
Something about it felt different now.
The river was no longer simply connected to Rymus.
It was connected to her family.
To her mother.
To memories she couldn't access.
And perhaps to the reason her entire life had been built around a lie.
They stopped near the market.
Thelma went to find food.
The man stayed with Gila.
She remained inside the vehicle.
"You're angry."
"Yes."
"At me?"
"No."
"At Thelma?"
"Maybe."
He nodded.
"And your mother?"
Gila looked at the photograph.
"I don't know."
He waited.
She continued.
"How do you forgive someone who lets you believe they're dead?"
"You don't have to forgive them immediately."
"What if they had a reason?"
"Then hear the reason."
"And if the reason isn't good enough?"
"Then decide what they deserve."
Gila looked at him.
"You're very calm."
"I'm not."
She smiled faintly.
"You look calm."
"I'm terrified."
"Of what?"
"Losing you."
Gila looked away.
The words touched something inside her.
She reached for his hand.
"I'm still here."
"For now."
She looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
He didn't answer.
Before she could ask again, Thelma returned.
"We have a problem."
Gila immediately released his hand.
"What?"
"The fisherman."
"What fisherman?"
"The one who watched us yesterday."
Gila looked toward the river.
The fisherman was standing there again.
But he wasn't watching them.
He was speaking to another man.
A man in a dark jacket.
Gila recognized him.
"Elias."
They watched as Elias handed the fisherman something.
Then he walked away.
Gila opened the vehicle door.
"Wait," Thelma said.
But Gila was already moving.
She followed Elias along the riverbank.
"Elias!"
He didn't stop.
"Elias!"
He continued walking.
Gila increased her pace.
Finally, he turned.
"You shouldn't have followed me."
"I need answers."
"You'll get them."
"Where?"
"From the woman in the photograph."
"Where is she?"
Elias stared at her.
"You aren't ready."
"Don't tell me what I'm ready for."
"You think this is about finding your mother."
"Isn't it?"
"No."
Gila stepped closer.
"Then what is it about?"
Elias looked toward the river.
"Your mother wasn't hiding from Rymus."
Gila waited.
"She was hiding you from him."
The words struck her.
"Why?"
"Because Rymus believes you inherited something."
"What?"
Elias looked directly into her eyes.
"Knowledge."
"About what?"
"The operation."
Gila shook her head.
"I don't remember any operation."
"You were young."
"I would remember."
"Not if someone made sure you didn't."
Gila's blood went cold.
"What are you saying?"
"Your memories were altered."
The river seemed to grow louder behind them.
Gila stared at him.
"That's impossible."
"No."
Elias reached into his jacket.
He pulled out another photograph.
This one was much older.
A little girl stood beside a woman.
The girl was Gila.
She recognized herself immediately.
But the woman beside her wasn't a stranger.
It was her mother.
And behind them stood Rymus.
Gila's knees nearly gave way.
"I don't remember this."
"I know."
"Where was it taken?"
"At the river."
"When?"
"Before you were told he was dead."
Gila looked at the photograph again.
There was something else.
A small wooden box in the woman's hands.
She recognized that too.
It had belonged to her mother.
She remembered seeing it as a child.
Then it had disappeared.
"What was inside?"
Elias shook his head.
"That's what Rymus wants."
"What?"
"The box."
"Where is it?"
Elias looked at her.
"You have it."
Gila's heart stopped.
"No."
"Think."
She tried.
A memory surfaced.
Her childhood bedroom.
Rain against the window.
Her mother kneeling beside her.
A wooden box.
Her mother placing something inside.
Then saying:
"If anything happens to me, never give this to anyone."
Gila closed her eyes.
The memory was faint.
Broken.
But real.
She opened them.
"I remember."
Elias nodded.
"Then you remember enough."
Gila looked at the river.
"What happened to the box?"
"You tell me."
She searched her memory again.
Nothing.
Then suddenly—
A voice.
Her mother's voice.
A sentence she had forgotten for years.
"The river will keep it until you're ready."
Gila opened her eyes.
She understood.
"The river."
Elias nodded.
"The box was never lost."
"Where is it?"
He looked toward the water.
"Under the old dock."
Gila turned.
The old dock from the photograph.
The same dock they had come searching for.
The same place where her mother's photograph had been taken.
The same place where the past had begun.
And somewhere beneath its boards was the secret Rymus had spent years trying to recover.
Gila took a step toward the river.
Thelma called from behind her.
"Gila!"
She turned.
Thelma was pointing toward the road.
Several vehicles had entered the settlement.
Men were getting out.
Elias looked at them.
His expression changed for the first time.
"He's here."
Gila's heart raced.
"Rymus?"
Elias nodded.
"Yes."
Then he looked at the river.
"You have less time than I thought."
Gila looked toward the old dock.
Then toward the approaching vehicles.
For years, she had believed her past was buried.
Now she knew it was waiting beneath the river.
And Rymus had finally come to collect it.