PART 38 — THE GUNSHOT BENEATH THE CHAPEL

The gunshot shattered the silence.

For one terrible second, Nora could hear nothing else.

Not Silas calling her name.

Not the frightened breathing of the others.

Not even the sound of footsteps above them.

She stared at the staircase, where a thin ribbon of smoke drifted down into the hidden chamber.

“Silas?”

“I’m here.”

His voice came from directly in front of her.

He had thrown himself between Nora and the stairs when the shot rang out. His rifle was raised, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the darkness.

Behind him, Thomas Whitmore struggled to stand.

Margaret pressed a hand against the wall, trying to steady herself.

And at the top of the staircase, someone groaned.

Nora recognized the voice.

“Jonathan?”

A second later, a figure stumbled into view.

Jonathan Vale appeared at the edge of the steps, one hand pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeped between his fingers.

But he was not the man who had fired the shot.

He was the man who had been shot.

Behind him stood a stranger dressed in a dark coat, holding a revolver with both hands.

“Put the book down,” the stranger ordered.

Nora tightened her grip on the financial ledger.

“Who are you?”

The man ignored her.

His eyes moved toward Jonathan.

“You were supposed to bring me the original records.”

Jonathan’s face twisted with pain.

“I told you the original wasn’t here.”

“You told me many things.”

The stranger stepped down one stair.

“And every one of them cost me money.”

Thomas went pale.

He knew that voice.

“Mercer.”

The man turned.

For the first time, his expression changed.

“Thomas Whitmore.”

Thomas took a slow step forward.

“Gideon Mercer died fifteen years ago.”

“That’s what the newspapers said.”

Mercer smiled without humor.

“Your family was always very good at burying the wrong people.”

Nora looked between them.

“Who is he?”

Thomas’s answer came quietly.

“The man who financed the first land seizures.”

Margaret closed her eyes.

“No. He was only an investor.”

Mercer laughed.

“Is that what you told yourself all these years?”

He pointed the revolver at the ledger.

“I supplied the money. Your council supplied the signatures. Your judges supplied the rulings. And your family supplied the land.”

His gaze settled on Nora.

“Now give me the book.”

Nora felt the weight of every stolen name in her hands.

Families who had lost their homes.

Children who had grown up believing their parents had failed them.

People who had been threatened into silence.

“No.”

Mercer’s smile disappeared.

Silas raised his rifle.

“Take one more step and you’ll regret it.”

“You won’t shoot me,” Mercer replied. “Not while I’m the only man who knows where the money went.”

Jonathan suddenly laughed through his pain.

“He’s lying.”

Mercer turned the gun toward him.

Jonathan continued, “The accounts were transferred through three banks. You destroyed the original records years ago.”

“I destroyed the copies.”

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed.

“Not the originals.”

The room fell silent.

Nora understood.

The financial ledger was evidence of corruption, but it was not the whole story.

Somewhere, there were records capable of proving exactly where the stolen fortunes had gone.

And Mercer wanted them erased.

“Where are they?” Nora demanded.

Mercer looked at her.

“Ask your grandfather.”

Thomas’s face hardened.

“I don’t know.”

“Then your granddaughter will die without knowing why.”

Mercer lifted the revolver.

Silas fired first.

The bullet struck the wooden railing beside Mercer, splintering it. Mercer stumbled backward, firing wildly as he fell.

The chamber erupted into chaos.

Margaret dragged Thomas behind the stone table.

Nora dropped to the floor with the ledger pressed against her chest.

Silas fired again.

A second shot rang out from above.

Then silence.

When Nora looked up, Mercer was gone.

Jonathan lay against the wall, breathing hard.

Silas rushed to the stairs, but Nora caught his sleeve.

“Don’t. He wants us to chase him.”

Silas looked at her.

“And if he’s escaping?”

“Then we find another way out.”

Jonathan tried to stand.

Nora turned toward him.

“Why did you come here?”

He looked at the blood on his hand.

“Because I knew Mercer would come for the ledger.”

“Then why didn’t you warn us?”

“Because I didn’t know whom he had already paid.”

Nora remembered the bank letter.

Jonathan’s signature.

The instruction that she must never learn who gave the order.

She held up the financial ledger.

“Did you write this?”

Jonathan stared at the book.

“No.”

“Did you order someone to keep me from discovering the truth?”

His silence lasted too long.

Finally, he said, “I signed a letter twenty years ago. I thought it was an order to keep you hidden from the people who wanted you dead.”

Nora’s stomach tightened.

“Who gave you that order?”

Jonathan looked toward Thomas.

Thomas could not meet her eyes.

Before Nora could demand an answer, a heavy crash shook the chamber.

Dust fell from the ceiling.

Mercer’s voice echoed from somewhere beyond the chapel.

“You have ten minutes, Nora Whitmore!”

A second crash followed.

“He’s bringing the whole passage down,” Silas said.

Nora looked at the ledger, then at the narrow corridor behind the stone shelves.

Margaret suddenly moved toward it.

“There is another exit.”

Thomas stared at her.

“You said it was sealed.”

“It was.”

Margaret pulled a rusted iron ring from beneath the table.

“But your grandfather built this chamber to survive a siege.”

She yanked the ring.

Somewhere inside the wall, ancient gears began to turn.

A section of stone shifted, revealing a dark passage.

Nora looked at Margaret.

“You knew this was here?”

Margaret’s eyes filled with shame.

“I helped build the room.”

She glanced at the ledger.

“And I helped decide which names would be erased.”

The passage opened fully.

Cold air rushed through the chamber.

Silas took Nora’s hand.

“Whatever happens next, we leave together.”

Nora nodded.

Then she turned to Jonathan.

“You’re coming with us.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

“After everything?”

“Especially after everything.”

She held his gaze.

“If your signature was used to protect me, prove it. If it was used to betray me, I’ll make sure everyone knows.”

Jonathan slowly pushed himself upright.

For the first time, he had no answer.

Behind them, another explosion shook the chapel.

And as they disappeared into the hidden passage, the financial ledger remained open in Nora’s hands.

On its final page, one name had been circled in red.

Not Alistair Vale.

Not Jonathan Vale.

Gideon Mercer.

Beneath it were three words written in Thomas’s handwriting:

HE FUNDED EVERYTHING.