Chapter 4 - The Father Behind The Screen
The man on the monitor smiled.
"Hello, Vincent."
Nobody in the room moved.
Not because they were frozen.
Because their minds were trying to reject what their eyes were seeing.
Vincent Hale had spent eighteen years believing one thing.
His father was dead.
The funeral had happened.
The reports had been filed.
The world had moved on.
But the man staring through the screen looked exactly like the person Vincent remembered.
Older.
More tired.
But alive.
"Turn it off."
Vincent's voice was barely above a whisper.
Daniel looked at him.
"Sir?"
"I said turn it off."
Daniel reached for the monitor.
The screen went black.
The silence afterward felt worse.
Because when the image disappeared, the impossible didn't disappear with it.
Vincent turned away.
For the first time since I met him, he looked like a normal person.
Not a billionaire.
Not a powerful businessman.
Just a son who had spent eighteen years mourning someone who might have never left.
Keller sat down slowly.
"I told you this would happen."
Vincent looked at him.
"You knew."
The chef didn’t answer.
"You knew my father was alive."
Keller rubbed his face.
"I knew he might be."
"Might be?"
Vincent stepped closer.
"Either you know or you don't."
Keller looked exhausted.
"Your father was very good at making people believe things that weren't true."
Vincent stared at him.
"Like his death?"
Keller looked away.
"Yes."
The word landed harder than I expected.
Daniel moved between them.
"Everyone needs to calm down."
Nobody listened.
Vincent picked up the photograph again.
His fingers stopped over the image of his mother.
"My mother."
He looked at Keller.
"You said she wasn't dead."
Keller swallowed.
"I said your father wanted people to believe she was."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
Vincent laughed once.
A cold sound.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
He looked around the hidden room.
"A secret room. Hidden cameras. Messages from dead people."
He pointed toward the monitor.
"And you expect me to believe nobody knows anything?"
Keller didn’t respond.
Because he knew Vincent was right.
Someone knew.
The question was who.
I walked closer to the desk.
There were dozens of files stacked neatly.
Most were old.
Some had dates from before Vincent became famous.
I picked one up.
The cover had a single name.
HALE INITIATIVE.
I opened it.
The first page was filled with names.
Companies.
Government officials.
Private security firms.
And one sentence written in red ink.
"Trust no one inside the circle."
I felt a chill.
"Vincent."
He looked over.
I handed him the file.
His expression changed as he read.
"What is this?"
Keller looked at the folder.
Then immediately stood.
"Put that down."
Daniel noticed.
"Why?"
Keller didn't answer.
Daniel took the folder from Vincent.
"You are becoming very predictable."
Keller stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
"It means every time something appears, you panic."
Daniel opened another page.
His eyes narrowed.
"There's a list."
Vincent looked.
"A list of what?"
Daniel turned the folder.
People's names filled the page.
Executives.
Politicians.
Military officers.
Then Vincent saw one name.
He stopped.
I watched his face.
"Who is it?"
He didn't answer.
I looked at the page.
The name was simple.
But it clearly meant something.
RICHARD HALE.
His father.
Next to the name was a handwritten note.
"Final subject."
Vincent closed the folder.
"No."
Keller looked at him.
"You know what that means."
Vincent turned.
"No."
"You do."
"No."
His voice became louder.
"I know what people told me."
The room went quiet.
"My father was a businessman."
Keller stayed silent.
"My father built companies."
Vincent looked at the screen.
"My father loved my mother."
His voice cracked slightly.
"And then he died."
Nobody spoke.
Because the next words were harder.
"He was not some scientist running experiments."
Keller looked at him.
"Vincent."
"No."
Vincent shook his head.
"You don't get to rewrite my entire life in one night."
The lights flickered again.
Everyone stopped.
Daniel immediately checked his weapon.
"What was that?"
A sound came from the hallway.
A metallic click.
Then another.
Like someone unlocking a door.
Daniel moved toward the entrance.
"Nobody move."
He opened the door leading back to the kitchen.
The hallway was empty.
But something was lying on the floor.
A small envelope.
Daniel picked it up.
"Don't touch it."
Mara spoke quickly.
Everyone looked at me.
"I mean..."
I swallowed.
"The last message came from someone who was watching us."
Daniel looked at the envelope.
Then at Vincent.
Vincent nodded.
"Open it."
Daniel used a knife to cut the edge.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
No writing.
Only a photograph.
Daniel handed it to Vincent.
The moment Vincent saw it, his face changed.
Again.
But this time it wasn't confusion.
It was recognition.
"What?"
I stepped closer.
The photograph showed a young man standing outside the same restaurant.
Years ago.
Before the Bellamy Room existed.
Before the hotel renovation.
Before Vincent became famous.
The young man was Richard Hale.
Vincent's father.
Standing beside him was another person.
A woman.
Vincent's mother.
But they weren't alone.
There was a child between them.
A little boy.
About five years old.
Vincent stared.
His hands started shaking.
"What is this?"
Keller looked at the photo.
Then whispered:
"No."
Vincent turned.
"You know."
Keller stepped backward.
"I thought this was buried."
"What was buried?"
Keller looked at Vincent.
"The truth about your family."
Vincent looked at the photograph again.
The child in the middle was smiling.
Happy.
Unaware.
But there was one detail that made Vincent go completely still.
The child was wearing a necklace.
A small silver pendant.
The same pendant Vincent had worn his entire life.
The pendant he thought his mother gave him.
The pendant he thought was the only thing left from his childhood.
But the photograph showed something impossible.
The necklace was already around that child's neck.
Before Vincent was supposed to have it.
He looked at Keller.
"Who is the boy?"
Keller didn't answer.
Vincent grabbed his jacket.
"Who is the boy?"
Keller whispered:
"Vincent..."
The monitor behind them suddenly turned back on.
Nobody touched it.
The screen showed the same man.
Richard Hale.
Alive.
Watching them.
This time, he wasn't alone.
A second person stood behind him.
Someone Vincent recognized immediately.
Someone who should have been dead too.
Richard Hale looked directly into the camera.
And said:
"Vincent, before you ask who that child is..."
He paused.
May you like
The person behind him stepped forward.
"Ask why your mother spent eighteen years hiding him from you."
