Chapter 4 - The Door That Had Been Waiting
The footsteps stopped behind me.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
I slowly turned around.
The man standing there was older than I expected.
Late fifties.
Gray hair.
Dark jacket.
A calm expression that looked almost too familiar.
My father stepped forward immediately.
"No."
The man smiled slightly.
"Still protecting him, Thomas?"
My blood ran cold.
Because my father wasn't looking at him like an enemy.
He was looking at him like a ghost.
A ghost that had finally returned.
Robert whispered beside me.
"Victor."
The name meant nothing to me.
But the reaction it caused did.
My father clenched his fists.
The old veteran beside me became tense.
And Ethan took a step backward.
Like he knew exactly who had arrived.
I looked at Ethan.
"You know him?"
Ethan didn't answer.
That was becoming a pattern.
Everyone knew something.
Everyone except me.
The stranger looked at me.
Not my father.
Not Robert.
Me.
"So you're Daniel."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
I stared at him.
"Who are you?"
He smiled.
"The man who has been waiting for you to find the truth."
I didn't like that answer.
Not even a little.
My father moved between us.
"Leave."
Victor looked amused.
"After fifteen years, that's what you say?"
"Leave, Victor."
The stranger looked around the fundraiser.
At the people watching.
At the tables.
At the decorations.
Then back at my father.
"You really thought you could build a normal life?"
My father's face hardened.
"Enough."
"No."
Victor shook his head.
"Not enough."
He looked at me again.
"Daniel deserves to know."
My heart started beating faster.
Every instinct I had learned over the years was telling me one thing.
Danger.
Not because Victor was threatening me.
Because he wasn't.
People who wanted to hurt you usually showed it.
The dangerous ones were the people who smiled while they destroyed everything you believed.
"What do you know about my family?" I asked.
Victor didn't answer immediately.
He reached into his jacket.
Several people around us reacted.
Robert shifted his position.
My father moved slightly forward.
But Victor only pulled out a small envelope.
Old.
Brown.
Worn at the edges.
He held it toward me.
"Your brother wanted you to have this."
My father's expression changed.
"No."
Victor looked at him.
"You don't get to decide anymore."
I took the envelope.
My hands felt heavier than they should have.
Inside was a letter.
I didn't open it.
Not yet.
Because I already knew.
Whatever was written inside would change something.
And I wasn't sure I wanted to lose the last pieces of the life I remembered.
Victor watched me.
"Your brother spent years trying to find out why your father disappeared."
I looked at my father.
"Why did you disappear?"
Silence.
Again.
Always silence.
My patience broke.
"No more."
My voice became louder.
"No more secrets."
The crowd around us became uncomfortable.
Some people started leaving.
Others stayed because they wanted answers as much as I did.
My father looked exhausted.
"I was trying to keep you safe."
"From what?"
He looked at Victor.
"From people like him."
Victor laughed quietly.
"Still blaming me."
"You know what you did."
"I know what you did."
The two men stared at each other.
Old enemies.
Old friends.
I couldn't tell which was worse.
Then Ethan finally spoke.
"My father worked with him."
Everyone looked at Ethan.
His face was pale.
I turned.
"What?"
Ethan swallowed.
"My father didn't just know your family."
He looked at Victor.
"He was part of it."
Victor's expression changed.
For the first time, he looked surprised.
"Ethan."
The way he said his name was a warning.
But Ethan continued.
"I found documents in my father's office."
My eyes narrowed.
"What documents?"
Ethan looked at me.
"About your brother."
The world became quiet.
"Where are they?"
"My father destroyed most of them."
"Most?"
Ethan nodded.
"I kept one."
Victor's calm expression disappeared.
Only for a moment.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Where is it?" Victor asked.
Ethan looked at him.
"I don't think you get to ask that."
A strange thing happened.
For the first time that day, I respected Ethan.
Not because he was strong.
Not because he could fight.
Because he was finally standing against something bigger than himself.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out a small flash drive.
"I was going to use this against my father."
He looked at me.
"But now I think you need it more."
I reached for it.
Before I touched it, Victor stepped forward.
"No."
One word.
Sharp.
Everyone stopped.
I looked at him.
"Why?"
Victor didn't answer.
That told me everything.
There was something on that drive.
Something important.
Something dangerous.
I took it anyway.
The moment it touched my hand, Victor's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
He answered.
"Yes?"
Silence.
Then his face went pale.
He looked directly at my father.
And then at me.
"No."
A pause.
"That's impossible."
My father watched him.
"What happened?"
Victor slowly lowered the phone.
His voice was barely a whisper.
"Someone found him."
Nobody moved.
I looked at Robert.
"Found who?"
Victor looked at me.
And for the first time since he arrived, he looked afraid.
"Your brother."
My chest tightened.
"But he's been missing."
Victor shook his head.
"No."
He looked toward the street.
"He's been hiding."
A thousand questions rushed through my mind.
Why?
From who?
Why didn't he come home?
Why did everyone lie?
My father stepped forward.
"Where is he?"
Victor didn't answer.
Then he looked at me.
"Daniel."
I waited.
"Before you see Michael, you need to understand something."
"What?"
Victor looked toward the abandoned road behind the fundraiser.
"The person who kept him hidden wasn't your enemy."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Then who was it?"
Victor opened his mouth.
But before he could answer, my phone vibrated.
Another message.
This time from Michael.
One sentence.
"Don't trust Dad."
I stared at the screen.
My father saw my expression.
"What did he send?"
I slowly lifted my eyes.
And before I could answer, the old abandoned training facility across town suddenly appeared in my mind.
The place where the message location had led us.
The place where my brother was supposedly waiting.
Because attached to Michael's message was one final image.
A photograph taken inside that building.
And in the background of the picture was my father.
May you like
Standing over someone on the floor.
Someone who looked exactly like me.
