Chapter 6 - The Woman Hidden From My Life
The envelope fell from my hand.
I didn’t pick it up.
I couldn’t.
Because my mother’s words were still echoing in my head.
“She’s your real mother.”
The apartment became completely silent.
Even Roman.
Especially Roman.
I looked at my mother.
Waiting.
Hoping she would laugh.
Hoping she would tell me this was some horrible misunderstanding.
But she didn’t.
She just stood there with tears in her eyes.
And that scared me more than anything.
“Say it again.”
My voice sounded different.
Small.
Broken.
My mother looked down.
“Sadi…”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Say exactly what you just said.”
She closed her eyes.
“The woman in the picture is your biological mother.”
My chest tightened.
I laughed once.
A short, painful laugh.
“That’s impossible.”
Nobody answered.
“My mother died when I was eight.”
My voice became louder.
“She raised me.”
My mother looked at me.
And I realized something.
She wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t defending herself.
She was grieving.
Like she had been carrying this pain for years.
“I am your mother.”
Her voice cracked.
“But I wasn’t the woman who gave birth to you.”
I stepped back.
The room felt like it was moving.
Everything I knew about myself suddenly felt unstable.
My birthday.
My childhood.
My memories.
All of it.
“How long have you known?”
My mother looked away.
“Since before you were born.”
The answer hit me harder than I expected.
“You knew my entire life?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I looked at Roman.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
My voice trembled.
“Everyone keeps saying they protected me while they lied to me.”
Roman didn’t argue.
Because he knew.
He had done the same thing.
I looked back at my mother.
“Who was she?”
My mother stared at the photograph.
The woman holding the baby.
“The woman who gave you life.”
“That’s not an answer.”
My mother swallowed.
“Her name was Elena.”
The name meant nothing.
But the way my mother said it made it feel important.
“What happened to her?”
Silence.
Then Roman spoke.
“She disappeared.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Roman looked at the photograph.
“Because your father spent years trying to find her.”
My fingers tightened.
“Why?”
My mother sat down slowly.
“Because your father believed she was still alive.”
I stared at her.
“That’s crazy.”
“I know.”
“Then why did he believe it?”
My mother looked at Roman.
And I saw something.
Fear.
Not of Roman.
Of the answer.
“Because your father received proof.”
Roman walked toward the box.
He picked up the flash drive.
“This is probably what he left behind.”
I looked at it.
“What’s on it?”
“I don’t know.”
My mother immediately stood.
“No.”
Everyone stopped.
Her reaction was too strong.
Roman looked at her.
“You knew about this.”
She looked terrified.
“I knew he kept something.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know what.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“You knew enough to hide it.”
My mother looked at me.
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
She didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“Mom.”
The word came out naturally.
Even after everything.
Because despite the lies…
She was still my mother.
The woman who held me when I was sick.
The woman who packed my lunches.
The woman who sat beside me when I cried after my father died.
“I need the truth.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I was afraid you would hate me.”
That sentence broke something inside me.
Because suddenly I understood.
She wasn’t only hiding a secret.
She was hiding guilt.
“What happened the night my father died?”
My mother looked at Roman.
And Roman looked away.
That told me everything.
“You both know.”
Nobody spoke.
“You both know.”
My voice shook.
“And I’m the only person who doesn’t.”
Roman finally said:
“Your father didn’t die because of an accident.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Sadi…”
“No.”
I stepped back.
“No more half-truths.”
I looked at Roman.
“Tell me.”
He took a breath.
“Your father was investigating the disappearance of Elena.”
The name sounded strange.
My real mother.
A stranger.
A ghost.
“He discovered that someone had been hiding evidence.”
“Who?”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Someone close to him.”
The answer made me nervous.
“Who?”
Before he could answer, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked at it.
My mother immediately became pale.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You know this number?”
She didn’t answer.
The phone continued ringing.
Roman stepped closer.
“Don’t answer.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because whoever is calling wants us to.”
The ringing stopped.
Then a voicemail notification appeared.
One new message.
I pressed play.
Static.
Then breathing.
Then a woman’s voice.
My blood turned cold.
“Sadi.”
I froze.
The voice was unfamiliar.
But somehow…
It felt familiar.
“I know you found the box.”
My mother covered her mouth.
The woman continued.
“Your father left you the truth because he knew they would eventually come for you.”
I looked at Roman.
“They?”
Silence.
The woman continued.
“But before you trust Roman Rossi…”
The recording paused.
Then:
“Ask him what happened the night your father disappeared.”
The message ended.
Nobody moved.
I looked at Roman.
He didn’t look surprised.
That hurt.
Because it meant he knew this was coming.
“You knew someone would contact me.”
Roman stayed silent.
“Roman.”
Finally, he answered.
“Yes.”
My heart sank.
“What else do you know?”
He looked at me.
“I know there are things your father wanted you to discover yourself.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
He looked at the flash drive.
“But this might be.”
I took the flash drive.
My hand touched his.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then I pulled away.
I didn’t know if I trusted him.
I didn’t know if I hated him.
I only knew that every answer created three more questions.
We returned to my apartment before sunrise.
Nobody spoke during the drive.
Roman stayed focused on the road.
My mother sat in the back seat.
Silent.
Broken.
Like she was waiting for a punishment.
When we arrived, Roman connected the flash drive to my laptop.
A single folder appeared.
No password.
No protection.
Just one file.
SADI_FINAL_MESSAGE
My breathing changed.
Roman looked at me.
“Your father made this for you.”
I clicked it.
The screen went black.
Then a video appeared.
My father.
Older.
Tired.
Sitting in the same apartment where we were standing.
My knees almost gave out.
“Hello, Sadi.”
His voice.
His real voice.
Not a memory.
Not something I imagined.
A real recording.
“If you’re watching this, then I failed.”
I covered my mouth.
My father looked directly into the camera.
“I wanted to tell you everything myself.”
He paused.
“But I knew they would stop me.”
My mother started crying quietly.
My father continued.
“There are three people you must never trust.”
The screen flickered.
Then the video showed three names.
The first name appeared.
I stopped breathing.
Because I knew the person.
The second name appeared.
My hands became cold.
Because I knew the person too.
Then the third name appeared.
And Roman immediately stood up.
Because the third name was his.
Roman Rossi.
I looked at him.
He looked at the screen.
And for the first time…
Roman Rossi looked afraid.
Then the video continued.
My father leaned closer to the camera.
“Sadi, if Roman is with you…”
A pause.
“Do not believe everything he tells you.”
The laptop suddenly went black.
The apartment lights turned off.
And from somewhere inside my apartment…
May you like
A voice whispered:
“Your father was right.”
