Chapter 5 - The House Where My Mother Died
The address on Richard’s phone screen stayed in my mind.
The house where my mother died.
For five years, I had avoided thinking about that place.
Not because I didn't care.
Because I cared too much.
Some memories were painful because they were bad.
Others were painful because they were the last pieces of someone you loved.
My mother had been my entire world after my father buried himself in work.
She was the person who taught me how to ride a bike.
The person who stayed awake when I had nightmares.
The person who told me that family wasn't about blood.
It was about the people who chose to stay.
But she was gone.
And now, after all these years, someone was telling me she had left something behind.
Something hidden.
Something my father never wanted me to find.
"I’m going."
The words came out before I even realized I had said them.
Emma immediately shook her head.
"No."
I looked at her.
"You don't get to tell me no anymore."
Her expression changed.
Not anger.
Pain.
"I know you're angry."
"Angry?"
I stared at her.
"I found out I have two sons in a hospital hallway."
My voice dropped.
"I found out my father lied about being dead."
I looked at Richard.
"I found out my mother's death might not have been an accident."
I took a breath.
"And you're telling me I'm angry?"
Nobody answered.
Because there was nothing to say.
Richard stood slowly.
"I'll come with you."
I looked at him.
"No."
He seemed surprised.
"I know that house better than anyone."
"Exactly."
I stepped closer.
"You knew everything and still let me believe I was alone."
His face tightened.
"I was trying to protect you."
I almost smiled.
That sentence again.
But this time, I wasn't going to accept it.
"Everyone keeps saying they protected me."
I pointed toward the door.
"But nobody protected me from losing five years with my children."
Richard looked at the twins.
His eyes softened.
"I regret that every day."
For a moment, I saw something real.
Not an excuse.
Not a lie.
Regret.
But regret didn't give me back time.
Emma walked toward the boys.
"We should leave."
I looked at her.
"You’re coming?"
She nodded.
"I owe you the truth."
The sentence surprised me.
Because for the first time that night, it sounded like she wasn't running away.
She was finally ready to stop hiding.
Twenty minutes later, we left the hospital.
The twins sat in the back seat.
Emma sat beside them.
I drove.
Richard followed behind in another car.
The entire journey felt unreal.
Every few minutes, I looked in the mirror.
Two boys.
Two faces.
Two lives I never knew existed.
My sons.
The words still felt impossible.
But they also felt right.
When we arrived at the old neighborhood, my hands tightened around the steering wheel.
I remembered this street.
I remembered visiting my mother here after college.
I remembered her standing outside the house waving at me.
I remembered thinking she would always be there.
I was wrong.
The house looked smaller than I remembered.
Older.
The paint had faded.
The garden had grown wild.
But the front door was exactly the same.
The same door my mother opened thousands of times.
The same door she walked through the last night of her life.
I got out of the car.
Nobody spoke.
Even the twins were quiet.
Emma came beside me.
"You don't have to do this alone."
I looked at her.
Five years ago, I would have believed those words instantly.
Now I didn't know what to believe.
But I nodded.
We walked toward the house.
The key Richard gave me fit into the lock.
That confused me.
"Why do you have this?"
Richard stopped behind us.
"I kept it."
"Why?"
He looked at the door.
"Because I knew one day you would come back."
I turned.
"You knew?"
He didn't answer.
That was becoming another pattern.
I opened the door.
The smell hit me first.
Old wood.
Dust.
Memories.
Everything inside was exactly how I remembered.
The furniture.
The photographs.
The small table near the window where my mother used to drink coffee every morning.
I walked slowly through the house.
The twins followed Emma closely.
"This place feels familiar," one of them whispered.
Emma looked down.
"Why?"
The boy shrugged.
"I don't know."
I felt a strange feeling in my chest.
Like somehow my children belonged here.
Like this house remembered them before I did.
Richard walked toward the hallway.
"Your mother kept everything."
I followed him.
"Everything?"
He nodded.
"She knew something was coming."
We reached her old bedroom.
My throat tightened.
I hadn't entered this room since the funeral.
Richard opened the closet.
Behind several old boxes was a small safe.
My heart started racing.
"You knew about that?"
Richard nodded.
"Your mother gave me the combination."
"Then why didn't you open it?"
His answer was quiet.
"Because she told me not to."
I stared.
"What?"
Richard looked at the safe.
"She said only you should see what was inside."
I entered the room.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like moving too fast might destroy something.
The safe had a small keypad.
I looked at it.
"What’s the code?"
Richard looked at me.
"Your birthday."
I entered the numbers.
Nothing happened.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Emma stepped closer.
"Try hers."
I looked at her.
"My mother's birthday?"
She nodded.
I entered the numbers.
The safe clicked.
Everyone froze.
I opened it.
Inside was a small box.
A photograph.
A flash drive.
And a sealed envelope.
My name was written on it.
Lucas.
My hands shook as I opened it.
The letter was short.
Only a few lines.
My mother's handwriting.
My eyes filled before I even finished the first sentence.
"My son, if you are reading this, then the truth has finally found you."
I continued.
"I need you to know something about the night I died."
My breathing stopped.
The room became silent.
The next line was written darker.
As if she had pressed the pen harder.
"I was not alone in that car."
I looked at Richard.
He looked away.
I kept reading.
"I was trying to escape from someone."
My heart started pounding.
Then I reached the final sentence.
The sentence that changed everything.
"The person who caused the accident was someone you trusted..."
I stopped.
Because at that exact moment, the front door downstairs slammed shut.
Everyone turned.
Emma grabbed the twins.
Richard's face changed.
Someone was inside the house.
Then we heard footsteps.
Slow.
Coming closer.
And a man's voice echoed from the hallway.
"Lucas..."
I froze.
Because I knew that voice.
It was the same voice from the message.
The same person my father feared.
May you like
The same person my mother had been running from.
Victor Hale was standing just outside the bedroom door.
