Chapter 6 - The Truth Hidden Inside the Missing Pages
The message remained on Emmett’s phone.
Five words.
That was all.
Ask your gardener what happened to her mother.
But sometimes five words could destroy an entire lifetime.
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
My mother.
The woman I had mourned for eleven years.
The woman everyone told me had disappeared because she couldn’t handle life anymore.
The woman I secretly believed had abandoned me.
Now someone connected to the Howerin family knew something I didn’t.
And worse…
They wanted Emmett to know.
Beatrice was still standing in the room.
Her expression was calm.
Too calm.
But I noticed the way her fingers moved.
A small nervous movement.
She was twisting her ring.
The same ring she had removed beside Warren.
The same ring she pretended represented love.
Emmett noticed too.
“You knew.”
Beatrice looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You knew about Clara Carter.”
The name changed everything.
For the first time, Beatrice looked genuinely surprised.
Not acting.
Not pretending.
Actually surprised.
“How do you know that name?”
Emmett gave a cold smile.
“That’s my question.”
The room became silent.
I stepped back.
Because suddenly I felt like I was standing in the middle of a storm that had existed long before I arrived.
Beatrice looked at me.
Then at Emmett.
“Where did you find that file?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.”
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“What matters is why my father’s assistant disappeared after investigating financial crimes inside my company.”
Beatrice’s face lost color.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
That silence told us more than words could.
Emmett turned away.
“Leave.”
Her eyes widened.
“Emmett.”
“Leave.”
“I can explain.”
“You had twelve years.”
That sentence hit harder than anger.
Because it was true.
Twelve years.
Twelve years of dinners.
Twelve years of photographs.
Twelve years of pretending.
Beatrice walked closer.
“You really think I’m the enemy?”
Emmett looked at her.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
For a moment, something almost human appeared on her face.
Pain.
Then it disappeared.
She straightened herself.
“Fine.”
She walked toward the door.
But before leaving, she stopped beside me.
Her voice became quiet.
Almost a whisper.
“You have no idea what your mother started.”
Then she left.
The door closed.
And suddenly the mansion felt much larger.
And much emptier.
I looked at Emmett.
“What did she mean?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he walked back to the desk and opened Clara’s file again.
“She knows something.”
“Yes.”
“And she’s afraid.”
I looked at him.
“You think she’s guilty?”
He was quiet.
“I think everyone is guilty of something.”
That answer scared me.
Because it meant he was finally seeing the world the way I did.
Not divided between good people and bad people.
But between people who hid their mistakes…
And people who admitted them.
We searched through every document.
Every record.
Every page.
Until we found something.
A photograph.
Hidden behind the back cover of the folder.
It showed four people standing outside a warehouse.
My mother.
Emmett’s father.
Warren Pike.
And another man.
A man I had never seen.
But Emmett recognized him.
His face changed.
“Who is that?”
I asked.
He slowly answered:
“My uncle.”
I looked at him.
“You had an uncle?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
Emmett stared at the photograph.
“He died twenty years ago.”
The room went silent.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he in this picture?”
Emmett had no answer.
The photograph was dated three months after his uncle’s supposed death.
Someone had changed history.
Someone had erased a person.
Just like they erased my mother.
Just like they erased parts of his father’s records.
The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
“They weren’t hiding one crime,” I whispered.
Emmett looked at me.
“They were hiding an entire story.”
Before he could respond, an alarm sounded.
The estate security system.
Both of us froze.
Because the alarm almost never went off.
Emmett grabbed his phone.
“What happened?”
A security notification appeared.
Unauthorized access detected. East archive room.
The archive room.
The place where the Howerin family kept old records.
The place nobody entered.
The place where answers might still exist.
We ran.
I followed Emmett through the hallway.
For the first time, I saw the mansion differently.
Not as a beautiful home.
But as a maze.
Every room contained a secret.
Every hallway held a memory.
Every locked door protected something someone didn’t want discovered.
When we reached the archive room, the door was open.
Emmett stopped.
Someone had already been there.
The shelves were damaged.
Documents scattered everywhere.
A window stood open.
The person had escaped.
But they left something behind.
On the floor.
A small black box.
Emmett picked it up.
Inside was a key.
And a note.
He opened it.
The handwriting was familiar.
My hands started shaking.
Because I recognized it.
My mother’s handwriting.
The note said:
Emmett,
If you found this, then they failed to stop you.
I covered my mouth.
My mother had written this.
Years ago.
For him.
The truth about your father’s death is not hidden in the company.
Emmett kept reading.
His eyes moved faster.
It is hidden in the person closest to you.
A pause.
Then the final sentence.
Do not trust the woman wearing my daughter’s necklace.
I looked up.
Emmett looked at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Because we both knew.
The necklace.
I had one.
A small silver necklace my mother gave me before she disappeared.
I wore it every day.
But someone else had seen it.
Someone who knew what it meant.
Emmett looked toward the door.
“Beatrice.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she doesn’t wear my mother’s necklace.”
A long silence.
Then I realized something.
My blood turned cold.
“She does.”
Emmett stared at me.
“What?”
I touched the necklace around my neck.
“She wore one just like it.”
The memory came back.
The charity event last year.
Beatrice wearing a silver necklace.
I thought it was just jewelry.
I thought it was expensive.
But now…
I remembered the shape.
The symbol.
The same symbol carved into the back of mine.
The same symbol my mother told me never to show anyone.
Emmett whispered:
“What is that symbol?”
I looked at the necklace.
And for the first time in eleven years…
I wondered if my mother hadn’t disappeared because she was running away.
Maybe she disappeared because she was protecting me.
Then a sound came from behind us.
A slow clap.
We turned.
Standing at the end of the hallway was Warren Pike.
Alone.
Smiling.
“You two have been very busy.”
Emmett stepped forward.
“What do you want?”
Warren looked at me.
Not Emmett.
Me.
And that was when I understood.
I had been wrong.
The gardener wasn’t the person they ignored.
I was the person they had been searching for.
Warren smiled.
“Your mother should have burned that necklace.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
His smile disappeared.
“Because it proves she was telling the truth.”
Emmett’s expression hardened.
“Truth about what?”
Warren looked at him.
Then at me.
And answered:
“About who really owns the Howerin empire.”
The hallway went silent.
Because the secret they had spent decades hiding…
May you like
Was not about money.
It was about blood.
