Chapter 7 - The Person Who Betrayed My Father
The archive door closed slowly behind us.
Not slammed.
Not forced.
Slowly.
Like someone wanted us to know it was happening.
Everyone turned.
Daniel immediately rushed toward it.
He grabbed the handle and pulled.
Nothing.
Locked.
My heart started beating faster.
"Open it."
Daniel pulled harder.
"Open the door!"
Richard stood behind us, completely calm.
Almost too calm.
I looked at him.
"You knew this would happen."
He didn't answer.
That was enough.
The chairman moved toward him.
"What did you do?"
Richard smiled.
"I didn't do anything."
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the archive room went dark again.
My baby started crying.
I held her tighter.
I could feel everyone moving around me.
But I couldn't see anyone.
"Stay close to Olivia."
Daniel's voice came from somewhere in the darkness.
Then I heard another sound.
A click.
A small mechanical sound.
The emergency lights turned on.
And the first thing I saw was Richard.
Standing exactly where he was before.
Except now he was holding the old photograph.
The photograph that showed the person who betrayed my father.
The photograph that had made my mother whisper my name in fear.
I looked at him.
"Who is it?"
Richard stared at me.
"You really don't remember."
My breathing slowed.
Because his words were strange.
Not "you don't know."
"You don't remember."
I looked at my mother.
Her face was full of pain.
"Mom."
She looked at me.
"Who is in the picture?"
She didn't answer.
Richard stepped closer.
"Your mother spent years trying to protect you from one memory."
I felt a chill.
"What memory?"
He turned the photograph around.
The person standing behind my family was clearer now.
An older woman.
A woman with a familiar face.
A woman whose eyes looked exactly like mine.
My hand covered my mouth.
"No."
Daniel looked at me.
"You know her?"
I couldn't speak.
Because I did.
Not from childhood.
Not from family photos.
From somewhere else.
A memory I had buried.
A memory my mother told me never to talk about.
The woman who visited me when I was six years old.
The woman who gave me a necklace.
The woman my mother called a stranger.
"Grandmother."
The word left my mouth before I realized I had said it.
Everyone froze.
Richard nodded.
"Your grandmother."
My mother closed her eyes.
"I didn't want you to remember."
I looked at her.
"You knew?"
She cried silently.
"Olivia..."
"No."
My voice cracked.
"You knew she was alive?"
My mother looked away.
That was the answer.
I felt betrayed all over again.
My whole life had been built on missing pieces.
Everyone had taken parts of my own story away from me.
Richard looked at the photograph.
"Your grandmother wasn't just a family member."
He paused.
"She was the person who controlled everything."
The chairman's expression changed.
"Richard."
"No."
Richard looked at him.
"She deserves the truth."
I looked between them.
"What did she control?"
Richard walked toward the shelves.
"Your father created the company."
He touched the documents.
"Your grandmother created the system around it."
I frowned.
"I don't understand."
"Your father believed money should protect family."
Richard looked at me.
"Your grandmother believed money was power."
The room became silent.
"She didn't care about family."
He continued.
"She cared about control."
I looked at the photograph again.
The woman who held me as a child.
The woman who smiled at me.
The woman my mother erased from my life.
"Why would she hurt my father?"
Richard's expression became darker.
"Because your father chose you."
I froze.
"What?"
"He changed his will."
The chairman nodded slowly.
"Your father planned to give you control."
Richard looked at me.
"Not your grandmother."
Not Ethan.
Not anyone else.
"You."
I looked down at my daughter.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The marriage.
The lies.
The documents.
The secrets.
Ethan wasn't the beginning.
He was only a piece.
A small piece in a much bigger game.
I turned toward Ethan.
"Did you know about her?"
He looked ashamed.
"No."
Richard laughed.
"Of course he didn't."
Everyone looked at him.
"Ethan thought he was working for the people who hired him."
Ethan's face changed.
"What?"
Richard looked at him.
"You thought you were making a deal with powerful investors."
He stepped closer.
"But you never knew who was behind them."
Ethan shook his head.
"No."
Richard smiled.
"You were never the player."
"You were just another tool."
For the first time, I saw Ethan break.
Not because he lost money.
Not because he lost the house.
Because he realized someone had used him too.
"Who hired me?"
Richard looked at me.
Then at my mother.
Then at the locked door.
"Ask her."
Everyone turned.
My mother stepped back.
"No."
Daniel looked at her.
"What did you do?"
My mother started crying.
"I was trying to save Olivia."
"From who?"
She looked at me.
And the sadness in her eyes frightened me.
"From your grandmother."
Silence.
I couldn't move.
Because there was something worse hidden in those words.
Not that my grandmother was dangerous.
But that my mother knew exactly how dangerous she was.
And she still let me grow up believing she didn't exist.
"Mom..."
She wiped her tears.
"Your grandmother wasn't supposed to find out about you."
"Why?"
My mother's voice dropped.
"Because she believed you were the only person who could take everything away from her."
A sound interrupted us.
A phone ringing.
Everyone looked around.
It wasn't any of ours.
The sound came from inside the archive.
From one of the shelves.
Richard walked toward it.
Slowly.
He moved a stack of files.
Behind them was an old phone.
A phone that looked like it had been hidden there for years.
Nobody touched it.
Until it stopped ringing.
Then it started again.
Richard stared at it.
His expression changed.
"What?"
Daniel whispered.
Richard didn't answer.
He looked at the screen.
Then his face went pale.
I stepped closer.
"What is it?"
He slowly turned the phone around.
The screen showed one name.
A name that made my mother's knees almost collapse.
A name that shouldn't have been possible.
May you like
Because the person calling was the same person whose photograph had been sitting in the archive for years.
The phone was ringing from my grandmother.
