Page 57 of Enigma

Her breath caught. “My father?”

“Your father was involved until the time of his death,” Simon said carefully. “But he wasn’t the founder. And he wasn’t the one in charge when your family was murdered.”

“Then who . . . ?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Olive. But it was . . . your mother.”

The words hit Olive like a physical blow.

The room tilted around her, and Jason’s hand gripped hers, steadying her as she processed Simon’s words.

“That’s impossible.” Her voice sounded distant, like it came from someone else. “My mother was a victim. She was killed along with the rest of my family.”

Simon’s expression was gentle but unwavering. “I know this is difficult to hear. But the evidence suggests your mother was the actual head of the criminal organization your father worked for. She was the one making the decisions, running the operations.”

“You’re wrong.” Olive stood and paced to the window, her head suddenly starting to pound. “My mother was gentle and loving. She protected us when my father put us in the line of fire.”

“You never wondered if she might be the one actually manipulating you?” Simon asked quietly.

Olive turned back to face him, anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you dare twist my memories into something sinister.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Olive. I’m trying to prepare you for what kind of answers you might find.”

CHAPTER 38

Olive continued to give Simon a death glare.

He ignored her. “There’s something else, something that’s going to be even harder to hear.”

Jason stood and shifted closer to Olive, his stance protective, as if he wanted to shield her from what was to come. “What?”

Simon’s gaze locked on Olive. “I think your mother might have somehow survived the attack that killed the rest of your family.”

The room began to spin around Olive.

Jason grabbed her arm and pulled her to the bed.

She sat down hard on the mattress—nearly collapsing—as she tried to process Simon’s words. “That’s impossible. I saw her body. She was dead.”

“Bodies can be misidentified, especially in traumatic circumstances. Dental records can be falsified if someone has the right connections.” Simon’s voice sounded gentle but persistent. “The organization your family was involved with had access to all those resources.”

“You’re saying my mother faked her own death?” Olive’s voice rose with each word. “That she let me believe she was dead for eight years?”

Jason pulled her closer.

“I’m saying it’s possible.” Simon reached into his jacket and pulled out a tablet, swiping to a photograph. “This is the woman who approached Lloyd at his workplace in Florida. She’s the same woman who likely drugged him and orchestrated his disappearance.”

He handed Olive the tablet.

The image was grainy, taken from what looked like security camera footage. But it showed a middle-aged woman in professional clothing. She had graying brown hair pulled back in a neat style, and despite the poor image quality, her features were clearly visible.

Olive stared at the photograph, her hands beginning to shake.

The womandidlook like an older version of her mother. The same bone structure, the same way of holding her shoulders, even the same slight tilt of her head when she was listening to someone speak.

“It can’t be,” Olive breathed.

But even as she said the words, her mind raced.