Chapter 6 - The Voice From the Past
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
I just held the phone against my ear and listened to the silence.
Because I knew that voice.
Not from yesterday.
Not from last week.
From twenty years ago.
A voice I had buried with my memories.
A voice I had cried over.
A voice I thought I would never hear again.
"Margaret..."
My hand started shaking.
Richard looked at me.
He didn't need me to explain.
He saw my face.
He saw the fear.
"Who is it?"
I couldn't answer.
The voice came again.
"Margaret, are you there?"
I closed my eyes.
Because there was only one person who said my name like that.
One person who knew the exact sound of my silence.
"Thomas?"
Richard stood up immediately.
The color disappeared from his face.
"Who?"
I looked at him.
"Thomas Caldwell."
The room went completely still.
Richard took one step back.
"No."
I stared at him.
"You know him."
Richard didn't answer.
That was enough.
"You know him."
His expression changed.
"Margaret, listen to me."
"No."
My voice became louder.
"You don't get to say that anymore."
I held the phone tighter.
"You both disappeared. You both kept secrets. You both decided what I was allowed to know."
Richard opened his mouth.
But I turned away.
"Thomas?"
The person on the phone finally spoke.
"I knew you would remember."
My heart sank.
"You're alive."
A pause.
Then:
"Yes."
The same answer Richard gave me.
The same impossible answer.
I sat down slowly.
"Why?"
Thomas sighed.
"Because I was trying to keep you safe."
I laughed quietly.
It sounded broken.
"Everyone says that."
"Margaret..."
"No."
I looked at Richard.
Then back at the phone.
"Everyone says they were protecting me. Everyone lies to me. Everyone makes decisions for me."
Silence.
Then Thomas said:
"You found the account."
I froze.
My eyes moved toward the bank statement sitting on the table.
"How do you know?"
"Because that account was never supposed to be found."
Richard stepped closer.
"Margaret, hang up."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because he is the reason all of this happened."
Thomas heard him.
And he laughed.
A tired, bitter laugh.
"Richard still blames me."
Richard grabbed the phone from my hand.
I immediately took it back.
"No."
I looked at him.
"Not anymore."
For years, people had controlled the story of my life.
Richard's version.
Daniel's version.
Everyone's version.
But never mine.
I put the phone back to my ear.
"Thomas, tell me the truth."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then he said:
"The money was never stolen."
I frowned.
"What?"
"The money was moved."
"By who?"
Thomas didn't answer immediately.
Then:
"By Daniel."
The room went silent.
I looked at Richard.
His expression changed.
Not surprise.
Pain.
"No."
I whispered.
Thomas continued.
"When Daniel discovered what his father had done, he thought he was fixing everything."
"What did Richard do?"
Richard looked away.
I stared at him.
"What did you do?"
Richard closed his eyes.
"I made a mistake."
Thomas spoke again.
"A mistake that cost your family everything."
I stood up.
"Enough."
My voice shook.
"But I need the truth from both of you."
Richard looked at me.
"I was desperate."
"That is not an answer."
He nodded slowly.
"I borrowed money."
"From who?"
Richard looked at the floor.
"Thomas."
I turned.
Thomas continued.
"Richard owed money to people who were dangerous."
My heart sank.
"But why did Daniel get involved?"
"Because he found out."
Richard whispered.
"He was eighteen. He saw the documents. He thought I was destroying our family."
I looked at him.
"And he was right?"
Richard looked at me.
For the first time, I saw real regret.
"Partly."
That word hurt.
Partly.
"Explain."
Richard sat down.
"I made bad choices. But I didn't steal from you."
Thomas interrupted.
"Not from her."
I looked at the phone.
"Then who?"
Silence.
Then Thomas said:
"The person who created the account."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
Thomas lowered his voice.
"The person Daniel has trusted for twenty years."
I already knew.
But I needed him to say it.
"Who?"
Thomas answered:
"Lauren's father."
The room spun.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
"No."
"Margaret."
"No."
I shook my head.
"You're wrong."
"I wish I was."
I looked at Richard.
"Did you know?"
He didn't answer.
That was the worst answer.
"You knew."
Richard whispered:
"I suspected."
I stared at him.
"You let me welcome that family into my life."
"I was trying to find proof."
"For twenty years?"
He looked away.
I felt anger replacing the pain.
"You let me believe Daniel hated me because of money."
"I thought keeping quiet would protect him."
"You were wrong."
Richard nodded.
"I was."
The honesty almost made it worse.
My phone buzzed.
A new message.
From Daniel.
I opened it.
One sentence.
"Mom, if Richard is with you, leave now."
I stared at the message.
Then another message appeared.
This time from the unknown number.
"Ask Richard who was in the car the night he disappeared."
My heart stopped.
I looked at Richard.
He saw my face.
"What did they send you?"
I didn't answer.
Because suddenly, I remembered something.
A detail I had ignored for twenty years.
The night Richard disappeared.
The night I stood by the window waiting for him to come home.
There had been another car.
Parked across the street.
A black sedan.
I had forgotten.
Or maybe I forced myself to forget.
"Richard..."
His face changed.
Because he knew exactly what I remembered.
"Who was in that car?"
He didn't speak.
"Richard."
His eyes filled with regret.
"Margaret..."
"Who was in the car?"
Before he could answer, the lights in my house suddenly went out.
Darkness filled the room.
My phone screen was the only light.
Richard immediately stood up.
"Get away from the windows."
I heard something outside.
A car door closing.
Then footsteps.
Slow.
Coming closer.
My phone buzzed again.
A new message.
From the same unknown number.
It said:
"He's not coming for Richard."
May you like
I stared at the words.
Then the front door handle slowly began to turn.
