Chapter 48 Chapter 48
FORTY-EIGHT~
"Where are they?" I screamed, running up to Catherine as FBI agents restrained her. "What did you do with Maya and Nathan?"
"They're safe," Catherine said calmly. "For now. But their safety depends entirely on your cooperation."
"We don't negotiate with kidnappers," Agent Torres said firmly.
"Then I guess you don't care about those two sweet little children," Catherine said, still smiling. "Such a shame. They were so trusting when my associate picked them up."
"Your associate?" Agent Torres asked. "Who else are you working with?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Catherine said.
I wanted to hit her. I wanted to hurt her the way she was hurting us.
But I knew that wouldn't help get my children back.
"What do you want?" Declan asked, his voice breaking. "Money? Property? I'll give you anything."
"I don't want your money," Catherine said. "I want what you took from me. A family. A father. A life."
"I can't give you those things," Declan said desperately. "James is dead. The past is gone."
"Then I guess we're at an impasse," Catherine said. "Because I'm not letting the twins go unless I get what I want."
Agent Torres pulled me aside. "We have teams searching every property connected to Catherine. We'll find them."
"What if we don't?" I asked, panic rising in my voice. "What if she's hidden them somewhere we'll never look?"
"We'll find them," Agent Torres said with a confidence I didn't share.
Catherine was arrested and taken into FBI custody. But she refused to say anything more about the twins' location.
"I want a lawyer," she said. "And until I have one, I'm not saying another word."
"She's stalling," I said to Agent Torres. "Buying time for something."
"For what?" Agent Torres asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But nothing good."
While the FBI searched for the twins, I went home with Declan and Liam. The house felt empty without Maya and Nathan.
"We'll get them back," I kept telling myself. "We have to."
But hours passed with no leads. Then a day. Then two days.
The FBI searched every property Catherine had ever rented or owned. They interviewed everyone she'd ever associated with. They followed every possible lead.
Nothing.
"It's like the twins vanished," Agent Torres said, frustration evident in her voice.
On the third day, I got a video call on my phone from an unknown number.
I answered immediately.
Maya and Nathan appeared on the screen. They were sitting in what looked like a basement, hands tied, but otherwise unharmed.
"Mom!" Maya cried when she saw me.
"Babies, are you okay?" I asked frantically. "Are you hurt?"
"We're scared," Nathan said. "But we're not hurt. The lady said she wouldn't hurt us if we behaved."
"What lady?" I asked.
Before they could answer, the camera shifted to show a woman's face.
I didn't recognize her.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"My name is Rebecca Morrison," the woman said. "Catherine's mother."
Catherine's mother. James's old lover. The woman he'd paid off decades ago to keep Catherine a secret.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"Because Catherine is my daughter," Rebecca said simply. "And she deserves justice for what James did to us. He threw us away like garbage. Made us nothing while his legitimate family had everything."
"So you're helping her kidnap children?" I asked incredulously.
"I'm helping her take back what should have been ours," Rebecca corrected. "And you're going to help too."
"How?" I asked.
"Catherine's lawyer will contact you with instructions," Rebecca said. "Follow them exactly, or you'll never see your children again."
The call ended.
I immediately called Agent Torres and told her about Rebecca Morrison.
"Catherine's mother," Agent Torres said, already pulling up records. "She's been off our radar because she changed her name years ago. Let me track her down."
Within hours, the FBI had located Rebecca Morrison's last known address.
But when they raided it, she was gone. And so were the twins.
"She knew we'd find that location," Agent Torres said. "She's probably moved them multiple times."
"So how do we find them?" I asked desperately.
"We wait for Catherine's lawyer to contact us," Agent Torres said. "And we hope they make a mistake."
Catherine's lawyer called the next morning.
"My client has a proposition," the lawyer said. "She wants to make a trade."
"What kind of trade?" Agent Torres asked, putting the call on speaker.
"Catherine will release the twins unharmed in exchange for a full confession from Declan Harris," the lawyer explained. "A video confession admitting that his father, James Harris, was a murderer, a fraud, and a terrible person who destroyed countless lives."
"Declan already acknowledged that publicly," I said.
"Not like this," the lawyer said. "Catherine wants Declan to specifically apologize to her. To acknowledge her as his sister. To admit that she deserved everything he got and more."
"And if he does this, she'll let the twins go?" I asked.
"Yes," the lawyer confirmed.
"How do we know she'll keep her word?" Agent Torres asked.
"You don't," the lawyer admitted. "But it's the only option you have."
After the lawyer hung up, Declan didn't hesitate.
"I'll do it," he said. "I'll make whatever confession she wants. I don't care about my reputation or my pride. I just want our children back."
"It might be a trap," Agent Torres warned. "Catherine could be planning to use the confession against you, to destroy what's left of your business reputation, and still not release the twins."
"I don't care," Declan said firmly. "Make the arrangements."
The FBI set up a video recording session. Declan sat in front of the camera, looking exhausted and scared.
"My name is Declan Harris," he began. "And I'm here to tell the truth about my father, James Harris."
He went through everything—James's crimes, his victims, his lies. He talked about Marcus Winters, Thomas Reed, Helen Martinez, Diana Lawson.
And then he talked about Catherine.
"My father had another child," Declan said, his voice breaking. "A daughter he never acknowledged. Her name is Catherine Morrison, and she's my half-sister. She deserved a father. She deserved the same opportunities I had. She deserved to be part of our family."
Tears were streaming down his face.
"I'm sorry, Catherine. I'm sorry for what our father did to you. I'm sorry you were treated as a secret, as a mistake. You weren't a mistake. You were a person who deserved love and recognition."
He looked directly into the camera.
"If you're watching this, please, let my children go. They're innocent. They've done nothing to hurt you. Whatever anger you have toward our father, toward me, don't take it out on them."
The video ended.
We sent it to Catherine's lawyer, along with a message: "You have what you wanted. Now release the twins."
The lawyer's response came two hours later.
"Catherine has received the video. She says it's acceptable. The twins will be released at the following location in two hours."
The location was an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city.
"It's obviously a trap," Agent Torres said. "Catherine will be long gone. She might even leave the twins there just to torture you."
"Or she might actually release them," I said hopefully.
FBI teams surrounded the warehouse long before the designated release time. When the time came, Declan and I were allowed to approach.
The warehouse door was unlocked.
Inside, tied to chairs but unharmed, were Maya and Nathan.
"Mom! Dad!" they cried when they saw us.
We ran to them, untying them, hugging them, checking them for injuries.
"Are you okay?" I asked, touching their faces, their arms, making sure they were really there.
"We're okay," Maya said. "The ladies weren't mean to us. They just kept us in different basements and said we had to be quiet."
"Ladies plural?" Agent Torres asked. "How many people were there?"
"Two," Nathan said. "The older lady and the younger one who visited sometimes."
"Catherine and Rebecca," I said.
FBI agents searched the warehouse thoroughly, looking for any clues about where Catherine and Rebecca might have gone.
They found nothing.
Catherine had gotten what she wanted—Declan's humiliating confession—and disappeared again.
"She'll surface eventually," Agent Torres promised. "And when she does, we'll be ready."
But days passed with no sign of Catherine or Rebecca.
The twins were traumatized but physically fine. They started therapy immediately to help process what had happened.
"I thought we were going to die," Maya told her therapist during one of the sessions I sat in on. "I thought they were going to kill us like all those other people who hurt our family."
"But they didn't," the therapist said gently. "You're safe now."
"Are we?" Maya asked. "We've been 'safe now' before. And then something else happens."
She was right. How many times had we thought it was over? How many times had we been wrong?
Declan's confession video went viral, of course. News outlets picked it up, social media exploded with commentary, late night comedians made jokes.
"Declan Harris publicly apologizes to the sister he never knew existed" became a trending topic.
Declan's business reputation took a hit. Some people praised him for his honesty. Others criticized him for the sins of his father.
"I don't care," Declan told me when I asked how he was handling the backlash. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant getting our children back."
Two weeks after the twins were released, the FBI finally got a break.
Rebecca Morrison was spotted at an airport, trying to board a flight to Mexico.
She was arrested before she could leave the country.
"Where's Catherine?" Agent Torres demanded during interrogation.
"I don't know," Rebecca said. "She told me to leave, to get out of the country before I got caught. She said she had one more thing to do before she disappeared for good."
"What thing?" Agent Torres pressed.
"She wouldn't say," Rebecca claimed. "Just that it would be her final revenge against the Harris family."
Rebecca was charged with kidnapping and held without bail.
But Catherine was still out there.
Still planning her final attack.
"We need to figure out what she's planning," I told Agent Torres.
"We're trying," Agent Torres said. "But Catherine's been careful. She hasn't left any digital trail, hasn't contacted anyone we can track."
"Then we need to think like her," I said. "What would hurt us the most? What would be her ultimate revenge?"
Declan thought about it. "She wants to destroy what I value most. She already burned down my foundation. She kidnapped our children but released them, so she's not trying to kill them. What's left?"
"You," I realized. "She wants to destroy you personally."
"Killing me wouldn't be revenge enough," Declan said. "She wants me to suffer."
"So what would make you suffer most?" I asked.
Declan looked at me, and I saw the answer in his eyes.
"If something happened to you," he said quietly. "If you died or were hurt because of my father's sins. That would destroy me completely."
"So I'm the target," I said.
"We don't know that," Agent Torres cautioned.
But we all knew it was true.
From that moment on, I had round-the-clock protection. FBI agents everywhere I went. Constant monitoring.
"This is no way to live," I told Dr. Chen during one of our sessions.
"No," Dr. Chen agreed. "But it's temporary. Once Catherine is caught—"
"If she's caught," I interrupted. "She's been ahead of us this whole time. What if she stays ahead?"
"Then you learn to live with the uncertainty," Dr. Chen said. "You've done it before."
But I was tired of living with uncertainty. Tired of looking over my shoulder. Tired of being afraid.
I wanted it to end.
Really, truly end.
Three weeks after Rebecca's arrest, something happened that changed everything.
I got a letter in the mail. Handwritten, personal.
Dear Anita,
You're right. You are my final target. Not because I want to kill you, but because I want you to understand what it feels like to lose everything.
I lost my father before I ever knew him. I lost my childhood to the shame of being a secret. I lost any chance at a normal family.
So now you're going to lose something too.
But not your life. That would be too quick, too merciful.
Instead, I'm going to take something more precious.
Your peace of mind.
For the rest of your life, you'll wonder if I'm still out there. If I'm planning something. If today is the day I finally strike.
You'll never feel safe. You'll never relax. You'll never stop looking over your shoulder.
And that, dear sister-in-law, is my ultimate revenge.
Sleep well.
- Catherine
I showed the letter to Agent Torres.
"It's a psychological attack," she said. "Catherine knows we're looking for her, so she's trying to terrorize you instead."
"It's working," I admitted.
"Don't let her win," Agent Torres said firmly. "Don't let her control your life through fear."
But how do you not be afraid when someone has explicitly told you they're planning to make you afraid forever?
That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Catherine's letter, about her words.
"You'll never feel safe."
She was right.
I would never feel safe again.
Not really.
Not as long as she was out there.
At 3 AM, I got out of bed and went to the study. I pulled out all the files on Catherine—everything the FBI had compiled, everything we knew about her.
There had to be something. Some pattern, some clue, some way to predict where she'd go or what she'd do next.
I read through everything twice.
And then I saw it.
A small detail I'd missed before.
Cather
ine's mother, Rebecca, had grown up in a small town in upstate New York. A town called Millbrook.
And according to property records, Rebecca still owned land there. A cabin in the woods that had belonged to her parents.
"Agent Torres," I called, not caring that it was the middle of the night. "I think I know where Catherine is.”