Chapter 4 - The Woman My Mother Feared
My father's voice came from the other side of the office door.
"Daniel, open the door."
I stood frozen.
Claire was beside me, holding her breath.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
Because we both knew something had changed.
My father wasn't asking.
He was demanding.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't hear authority in his voice.
I heard fear.
I looked down at the flash drive still in my hand.
The photograph.
The letters.
The hidden compartment.
All of it had been hidden inside this room.
A room my father had controlled for decades.
A room where he thought nobody would ever discover the truth.
I walked toward the door.
Claire grabbed my arm.
"Daniel, wait."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
Her eyes were filled with panic.
"Because if you open that door, everything changes."
I pulled my arm away.
"Everything already changed."
I unlocked the door.
My father was standing outside.
But he wasn't alone.
An older man stood behind him.
I had never seen him before.
He was wearing a dark suit.
Gray hair.
Cold eyes.
The kind of person who looked like he knew more than he said.
My father looked past me.
His eyes immediately went to the wooden box on the desk.
Then to the photograph in my hand.
His face changed.
"Where did you get that?"
I held up the picture.
"You tell me."
The older man behind him looked at the photograph.
And suddenly, his expression changed too.
"Richard..."
My father turned.
"Not now."
That reaction told me everything.
They knew each other.
They knew this photograph.
They knew the man standing behind my mother and father.
I stepped closer.
"Who is he?"
Nobody answered.
My patience disappeared.
"Who is the man in this picture?"
My father looked at me.
"Daniel, there are things you need to understand."
"No."
I shook my head.
"I've heard that sentence too many times today."
I pointed at Claire.
"I found out my wife knew you before she knew me."
I pointed at the photograph.
"I found out my dead mother left warnings about you."
Then I looked at him.
"And now I find out you know this man."
The silence was unbearable.
Finally, the older man spoke.
"His name was Michael."
My father immediately looked at him.
"Stop."
But I heard the name.
Michael.
A name that meant nothing to me.
But clearly meant something to them.
"Who was Michael?"
The older man looked at me.
"He was the reason your mother started investigating your father."
My heart dropped.
"My mother investigated him?"
My father stepped forward.
"Enough."
"No."
I moved back.
"You don't get to tell me enough anymore."
For the first time, I saw my father lose control.
Not anger.
Panic.
"Your mother was sick."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"She was confused. She believed things that weren't true."
I looked at the letters on the desk.
"She wrote those letters."
My father didn't answer.
"She warned me about you."
His expression hardened.
"Your mother wasn't thinking clearly at the end."
I felt something inside me break.
The man I trusted most was standing in front of me, trying to rewrite my own mother's memories.
But then Claire spoke.
"That's not true."
Everyone looked at her.
My father went silent.
Claire stepped forward.
"Your mother was right."
My father's face changed.
"Claire."
The warning in his voice was clear.
But Claire continued.
"She knew everything."
I looked at her.
"What did she know?"
Claire swallowed.
Then she said something that made the entire room feel colder.
"Your father wasn't the only person your mother was afraid of."
I waited.
"Who else?"
Claire looked at the older man.
Then back at me.
"Michael."
The name echoed in my head.
"Why?"
Claire looked at the photograph.
"Because Michael was supposed to expose your father."
My father laughed quietly.
A cold laugh.
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
Claire looked at him.
"I know exactly what happened."
"You were a child."
"I was old enough to remember."
My eyes moved between them.
"What happened?"
Nobody spoke.
Then the older man sighed.
"Daniel, your mother discovered your father was involved in something dangerous."
"What kind of something?"
He looked at Richard.
My father looked away.
"Your father had been hiding money."
I frowned.
"Money?"
"Millions."
I laughed.
"This is about money?"
"No."
The older man shook his head.
"It was about who the money belonged to."
The room became silent.
I looked at my father.
"Whose money?"
Before anyone could answer, my phone vibrated.
Another message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A video file.
No words.
Just a date.
The date was six years ago.
The day my mother died.
My hands became cold.
Claire saw my expression.
"What is it?"
I didn't answer.
I pressed play.
The screen showed my mother.
Alive.
Sitting in a dark room.
Her face looked tired.
Scared.
She looked directly into the camera.
And then she spoke.
"Daniel, if you are watching this..."
My breathing stopped.
My mother's voice continued.
"...it means your father finally failed to hide the truth."
The video cut off.
The room went silent.
Nobody moved.
Then my father whispered:
"Where did you get that?"
I looked at him.
And for the first time, I knew he wasn't afraid of losing control.
He was afraid of losing everything.
Because the video had one more thing.
A final frame.
A location.
My mother's last message.
I zoomed in.
And recognized the address.
It was the house we were standing in.
May you like
But the timestamp showed something impossible.
The video had been recorded after my mother was already dead.
