Chapter 8
The press found out within days.
Vale heir found alive inside mansion wall.
Powerful family under investigation.
Secret mother discovered in care facility.
Every headline felt obscene.
Oliver was not a headline.
Hannah was not a twist.
Elise was not scandal.
They were people my family had failed.
I held a press conference only because Detective Reeves said silence would let Edmund shape the story.
I stood behind a podium with Hannah beside me.
“My son is alive,” I said.
Cameras flashed.
“He was hidden by people I trusted. My niece’s mother is alive. She was hidden too. We are cooperating fully with law enforcement.”
A reporter shouted, “Did you know?”
The question hit like a fist.
“No.”
“Do you blame yourself?”
“Yes.”
Hannah touched my arm.
I continued.
“But blame that stops at shame helps no one. So I will use everything I have to expose what was done.”
Victoria’s lawyer released a statement claiming I was unstable.
Bad move.
Detective Reeves released the body camera footage from the rescue.
My son’s voice.
Please save me. I can’t breathe.
Victoria’s scream.
He was never supposed to be found.
The public turned.
Edmund’s allies disappeared faster than smoke.
Judges who once visited our estate claimed they barely knew him.
Charity boards removed the Vale name.
Hospitals suspended Dr. Price.
The mansion was seized as a crime scene.
I moved into a secure apartment near the hospital.
Oliver hated elevators.
He hated closed closets.
He hated wallpaper.
So we slept in the living room with every door open.
One night, he whispered, “Father?”
“Yes?”
“If I get scared, can I wake you?”
May you like
I pulled him close.
“Every time.”
