Chapter 3 - The Secret Hidden Behind Twelve Years of Silence
The phone screen stayed between us.
I couldn't read everything on it.
I only saw a few words.
But I understood enough.
She was never supposed to find out she was a Graves.
My eyes moved from the phone to Nathaniel's face.
Then back to the phone.
My heart started beating faster.
Because I knew the person they were talking about was me.
Nobody said my name.
Nobody needed to.
The silence said it for them.
Nathaniel slowly lowered the phone.
For the first time since I entered Graves Tower, the powerful billionaire looked completely lost.
Not angry.
Not confused.
Lost.
"Who sent that?" the woman with the tablet asked.
Nathaniel didn't answer.
He stared at the message.
Then he locked the screen.
"Nobody leaves this building until I know who sent it."
The security guards immediately nodded.
I looked between them.
"Why are you acting like I'm in danger?"
Nathaniel looked at me.
And that was when I noticed something strange.
He wasn't looking at me like a billionaire looking at a stranger.
He was looking at me like someone looking at a piece of his own past.
"I need to ask you something, Ruby."
I hugged my backpack tighter.
"What?"
"Your mother."
His voice slowed.
"Has she ever told you about your father?"
The question made my chest tighten.
I looked down.
"No."
"Never?"
I shook my head.
"She says he left before I was born."
Nathaniel became completely still.
The woman beside him whispered:
"That can't be."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
She immediately looked away.
Nathaniel noticed.
"Enough."
His voice was sharp.
The woman stopped speaking.
I didn't like that.
I didn't like adults talking around me like I wasn't there.
Like I was a problem they needed to solve.
"My mom isn't a bad person," I said quietly.
Nathaniel looked surprised.
"I didn't say she was."
"People always get quiet when they hear her name."
I looked at the floor.
"They think because we don't have money, something is wrong with us."
Nathaniel's expression changed.
Something about my words affected him.
"I don't think that."
I looked up.
"Then why do you know my name?"
He didn't answer immediately.
That scared me more than if he had.
Because grown-ups usually answered when they had nothing to hide.
Nathaniel walked toward the private elevator.
"Come with me."
I didn't move.
"Where?"
"Somewhere we can talk."
I looked at the security guards.
Then at the locked doors.
Then back at him.
"Are you going to call my mom?"
The question stopped him.
"Yes."
My stomach dropped.
"Is she in trouble?"
Nathaniel turned around.
"No."
His answer came instantly.
Too instantly.
Like he needed me to believe it.
"Your mother is not in trouble."
"Then why do you need to talk to her?"
Nathaniel looked away.
Because he didn't have an answer.
And somehow, that scared me more.
The elevator opened.
We stepped inside.
For the first time, I saw how different Nathaniel Graves' world was.
The elevator didn't have buttons like normal elevators.
It had a fingerprint scanner.
Private security cameras.
A screen showing different parts of the building.
My reflection appeared beside his.
A little girl in a faded dress.
A billionaire in a perfect suit.
We looked like we belonged in completely different stories.
But somehow, we were standing in the same elevator.
When the doors opened again, we entered a private office.
It was bigger than my entire apartment.
There were floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
A massive desk.
Shelves filled with awards.
Photographs.
Lots of photographs.
Nathaniel noticed me looking.
"Sit down."
I sat in one of the chairs.
My feet didn't touch the floor.
He remained standing.
Like he didn't know what to do.
Like he had faced business disasters and angry investors, but he didn't know how to speak to an eight-year-old girl.
Finally, he walked toward a cabinet.
He unlocked it.
Then pulled out a folder.
The folder looked old.
Very old.
He placed it on the desk.
My name was written on the front.
RUBY PARKER.
I stopped breathing.
"Why is my name on that?"
Nathaniel didn't open it.
Not yet.
"Because twelve years ago, someone tried to erase this file."
I stared at him.
"But I wasn't even born twelve years ago."
Nathaniel looked at me.
"You were."
The room went silent.
I felt like the air disappeared.
"What?"
"You were born twelve years ago."
I shook my head.
"No."
"My mother told me I was eight."
Nathaniel's eyes softened.
"She wasn't lying."
I frowned.
"Then what are you saying?"
He opened the folder.
Inside were documents.
Old photographs.
Medical records.
And one picture that made my entire body freeze.
A woman.
A younger woman.
Standing beside Nathaniel.
I didn't know her.
But I knew her face.
Because I saw it every morning when I looked in the mirror.
My mother's eyes.
My mother's smile.
My mother.
"That's my mom."
Nathaniel nodded slowly.
"Emily Parker."
I stared at the photograph.
She looked younger.
Happy.
Different.
Not the exhausted woman who counted coins at the kitchen table.
Not the woman who apologized when bills arrived.
This woman looked like someone who believed the world was a good place.
"Why do you have this?"
Nathaniel looked down.
"Because I knew your mother."
The words hit me harder than I expected.
"You knew her?"
"Yes."
"How?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he pulled out another photograph.
This one was different.
It showed Nathaniel.
Emily.
And a baby.
My hands went cold.
Because the baby was wearing a small silver bracelet.
The same bracelet I had worn my entire life.
The one my mother told me belonged to me.
Nathaniel saw my expression.
"You recognize it."
I touched my wrist.
"Where did you get that picture?"
He looked at the bracelet.
Then at me.
"Because I gave that bracelet to your mother before you were born."
I couldn't speak.
My mind felt like it was moving too fast.
Every answer created more questions.
"Are you saying..."
I stopped.
I couldn't finish.
Nathaniel's face became painful.
"I don't know what your mother told you."
I whispered:
"Tell me."
He looked away.
"I need proof first."
"Proof of what?"
His silence answered before his words did.
"Of who your father was."
I stared at him.
The room suddenly felt too big.
"Who was he?"
Nathaniel looked at the folder.
Then at me.
Before he could answer, his office door opened.
The woman with the tablet rushed inside.
Her face was pale.
"Mr. Graves."
Nathaniel turned.
"What happened?"
She held up her phone.
"We found the camera footage from Aldridge Street."
Nathaniel stood.
"And?"
She looked at me.
Then back at him.
"The wallet wasn't lost."
Nobody moved.
"What do you mean?" Nathaniel asked.
Her voice became quieter.
"Someone placed it there."
A cold feeling moved through my body.
"Why?"
The woman swallowed.
"Because they wanted Ruby to find it."
Nathaniel stepped closer.
"Who?"
She looked at the phone.
Then pressed play.
The security footage appeared on the screen.
A figure wearing a dark coat walked toward the bus stop.
The person stopped.
Placed the wallet beneath the bench.
Then looked directly into the camera.
Like they knew they were being watched.
Nathaniel leaned closer.
The woman's voice shook.
"Mr. Graves..."
He stared at the screen.
"That's impossible."
The person slowly turned around.
The face became visible.
And Nathaniel's expression completely changed.
Because the person who left the wallet was someone he thought had disappeared twelve years ago.
The screen froze on the face of the person standing beside the bus stop.
May you like
And Nathaniel whispered one name.
"Emily..."
