Chapter 6 - The Man My Mother Was Running From
Victor Hale stood in the doorway.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The only sound was the old house settling around us.
The same house where my mother had taken her final breath.
The same house where I had just discovered she had left me a warning.
And now the man she feared was standing in front of me.
Older.
Calmer.
But still the same person from my father’s terrified expression.
Victor looked at me.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Like he had been waiting for this moment.
"Lucas."
Hearing my name from him made my skin crawl.
I stepped in front of Emma and the twins.
"How do you know my name?"
Victor smiled slightly.
That smile made everything worse.
"Because I have known you your entire life."
Richard moved forward.
"Stay away from him."
Victor looked at my father.
Then laughed quietly.
"Still pretending you are the hero, Richard?"
My father’s face tightened.
"I warned you never to come near him."
Victor looked around the room.
At the photographs.
At my mother's belongings.
At the safe that was still open.
"You found it."
My heart started beating faster.
"You knew about the safe?"
Victor didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at the letter in my hand.
"Did she write your name?"
I gripped the paper.
"You knew my mother."
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
A flash of something.
Regret.
Maybe.
Or guilt.
"I knew her better than anyone."
Emma stepped closer.
"Don't listen to him."
Victor looked at her.
"Emma."
She froze.
"You remember me?"
Victor smiled.
"Of course I do."
I turned toward Emma.
"You said you met him once."
She looked uncomfortable.
"I did."
Victor interrupted.
"She met me because she wanted answers."
My eyes moved between them.
"What answers?"
Nobody responded.
I hated that.
Every answer created three more questions.
Victor slowly walked into the room.
Richard immediately stepped forward.
"Don't come any closer."
Victor stopped.
"You really think you can protect him after what you did?"
My father looked away.
That was the first time I saw him afraid of someone.
Not worried.
Not nervous.
Afraid.
I noticed.
And Victor noticed that I noticed.
"Ask him."
Victor pointed at Richard.
"Ask your father what he did the night your mother died."
I looked at Richard.
My voice became quiet.
"What did you do?"
Richard didn't answer.
That silence hurt more than any confession.
"Tell me."
My father closed his eyes.
"I was trying to save her."
Victor laughed.
"That's not what happened."
I turned back.
"Then what happened?"
Victor looked at me.
"Your mother discovered that your father had been hiding something."
"What?"
Victor walked closer.
"Your father knew about the fertility records."
I looked at Richard.
My chest tightened.
"Is that true?"
Richard swallowed.
"I knew someone had altered them."
The room went silent.
"You knew?"
"I was trying to find out who."
I stared at him.
"And you let me believe I couldn't have children?"
Richard looked broken.
"I thought I could fix it."
"Five years."
My voice cracked.
"Five years of my life."
He looked down.
"I know."
"No."
I shook my head.
"You don't."
Victor watched us.
Almost like he enjoyed seeing everything collapse.
"He always did this."
I looked at him.
"Did what?"
"Made decisions for everyone."
Victor pointed toward the letter.
"Your mother was the only person who refused to let him control the story."
I looked down at the paper.
The unfinished sentence.
The warning.
The truth she died trying to reveal.
"What happened that night?"
Victor became quiet.
For the first time.
Actually quiet.
"Your mother found proof."
"Proof of what?"
He looked at Richard.
Then back at me.
"That someone in your family had been planning everything for years."
My stomach dropped.
"Planning what?"
Victor didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"Your marriage."
The room froze.
I stared.
"What?"
Emma looked confused.
Even Richard looked surprised.
Victor continued.
"Your father knew your relationship with Emma would eventually create questions."
I looked at Emma.
"What questions?"
Victor looked at the twins.
"The kind that would expose the truth."
The boys moved closer to Emma.
She held them tightly.
I felt something break inside me.
My entire life had become a puzzle.
Every piece was connected.
But someone had been moving the pieces while I wasn't looking.
"You're lying."
I wanted to believe that.
I needed to believe that.
Victor looked at me.
"Then ask your father why he never told you about the letter your mother sent him three days before she died."
I turned slowly.
"Letter?"
Richard went pale.
"What letter?"
Victor smiled.
"There it is."
The room became silent.
"You didn't even know."
I looked at my father.
"What letter?"
Richard didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"What letter?"
His lips parted.
But no words came out.
And that scared me more than anything.
Because Richard Carter was a man who always had answers.
Except now.
He didn't.
Victor reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small envelope.
Old.
Yellowed.
The edges were damaged.
He placed it on the table.
"My copy."
I stared.
"Why do you have that?"
Victor looked directly at me.
"Because your mother gave it to me before she died."
Emma gasped.
Richard stepped forward.
"You're lying."
Victor looked at him.
"You know I'm not."
I picked up the envelope.
My hands were shaking.
My mother's handwriting was on the front.
But this time, the name wasn't mine.
It was Richard's.
I opened it.
Inside was only one page.
The first sentence made my heart stop.
"Richard, if anything happens to me, you must tell Lucas the truth about his real father."
I looked up.
The room disappeared.
"What does this mean?"
Nobody answered.
I looked at Richard.
My father.
The man who raised me.
The man who lied to me.
"Real father?"
My voice was barely audible.
Richard looked like he had aged ten years in a few seconds.
Victor whispered:
"Now you understand why your mother was afraid."
The twins were silent.
Emma covered her mouth.
And Richard finally looked at me.
Not like a son.
Like someone who had just discovered a secret he had spent years burying.
Then his phone rang.
Everyone looked at it.
Richard stared at the screen.
His hands started shaking.
Because the call was coming from a number that should have been disconnected for years.
My mother's old phone number.
Richard answered.
Nobody spoke.
He only listened.
Then his face turned completely white.
He slowly handed me the phone.
May you like
And from the other end, I heard a woman's voice whisper my name...
"Lucas, your father is not the only person who lied to you..."
