Chapter 6: The Truth About My Mother
The message burned into my screen.
*Ask him why he disappeared the same day your mother died.*
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The ballroom noise returned slowly.
People were shouting.
Security guards were running through the halls.
Guests were asking questions.
But none of it mattered.
Because one sentence had dragged me back twenty years.
My mother's funeral.
The black suit that didn't fit me.
The smell of rain outside the church.
The way adults lowered their voices whenever I walked into a room.
The way everyone looked at me with pity.
I remembered standing beside her coffin, holding her favorite necklace in my small hands.
I remembered asking my aunt:
"Where is Dad?""
And I remembered the answer.
"He couldn't come.""
At eight years old, I thought that meant he was too far away.
Too busy.
Too hurt.
I never imagined he had been hiding.
Or that there was something more.
"Daniel.""
Marcus's voice pulled me back.
I looked up.
His face was tense.
"You need to leave.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"This place isn't safe anymore.""
I looked around the ballroom.
Hundreds of people were still gathered.
"You're telling me the gala isn't safe?""
"I'm telling you someone just stole the only evidence proving what happened to you.""
He lowered his voice.
"And whoever did it was close enough to know exactly when the lights would go out.""
My eyes moved around the room.
Everyone looked suspicious now.
Every conversation.
Every glance.
Every person pretending to be shocked.
I hated that feeling.
Not knowing who to trust.
"Where is Chad?""
Marcus looked toward the hallway.
"He's gone.""
Of course he was.
The man who had orchestrated my destruction had disappeared the moment things became dangerous.
I turned toward the exit.
"I need to find Thomas.""
Marcus grabbed my shoulder.
"Daniel.""
I looked at him.
"You heard him. He knows something.""
"And so do you.""
Marcus froze.
I stepped closer.
"You knew my father was alive.""
His expression changed.
"I suspected.""
"No.""
My voice hardened.
"You knew enough to call me.""
He looked away.
"Marcus.""
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"I found Thomas Hayes eight years ago.""
The confession hit me.
"Eight years?""
"Yes.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
His jaw tightened.
"Because I wasn't sure if he was protecting you or using you.""
The honesty surprised me.
I expected another lie.
Another excuse.
Instead, he admitted uncertainty.
"Where is he now?""
"I don't know.""
I looked around.
"You lost him?""
"He didn't leave.""
Marcus glanced toward the emergency exit.
"Someone took him.""
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Someone took my father?""
Marcus nodded.
"And I think whoever took him is the same person who sent those messages.""
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
This time, I recognized the number.
Brooke.
I almost ignored it.
Almost.
But something made me answer.
"Daniel.""
Her voice was shaking.
"Where are you?""
"Still at the gala.""
A breath of relief.
"Thank God.""
"Why?""
Silence.
Then:
"Because I thought they got you.""
My expression hardened.
"They?""
"Daniel, listen to me.""
"I've been listening all night.""
"I know.""
Her voice cracked.
"And I know I don't deserve your trust.""
At least she admitted it.
"What happened?""
"I found something.""
"What?""
"A file.""
I looked at Marcus.
"Where?""
"In my father's office.""
My stomach tightened.
"How did you get into your father's office?""
Another pause.
"I've had access since I was a child.""
Of course.
The Carter family.
The Whitmore family.
Everyone had doors they could open.
Everyone had secrets they could hide.
Everyone except me.
"What was in the file?""
Brooke's breathing became uneven.
"Your mother's name.""
I froze.
"What?""
"There were documents about your mother.""
"Tell me.""
"I can't over the phone.""
"Brooke.""
"Daniel, please.""
The desperation in her voice sounded real.
"I know you hate me.""
I said nothing.
"But I found something that changes everything.""
"What?""
She whispered:
"Your mother wasn't killed in an accident.""
The words hit me like ice.
"What did you say?""
"She was investigating your grandfather.""
I closed my eyes.
Another secret.
Another lie.
Another part of my life that wasn't what I believed.
"Where are you?""
"I'll send you the location.""
The call ended.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.
A location appeared.
An old apartment building downtown.
Marcus saw my face.
"Where is it?""
I showed him.
His expression changed.
"You can't go there.""
"Why?""
"Because I know that address.""
I waited.
Marcus looked serious.
"That's where Thomas lived after he disappeared.""
My heart stopped.
The same place.
The same hidden life.
The same secrets.
"I have to go.""
Marcus shook his head.
"Daniel.""
"No.""
I looked at him.
"Twenty years ago, people decided what I was allowed to know.""
My voice became quieter.
"Tonight ends that.""
Marcus studied me.
Then he nodded.
"I'll come with you.""
We left through the back entrance.
The city air felt different.
Cold.
Heavy.
Like the world had shifted and refused to return to normal.
The drive was silent.
Too much had happened.
Too many truths had been uncovered.
Finally, Marcus spoke.
"There's something else you should know.""
I looked out the window.
"What?""
"Your accident wasn't the first attempt.""
My head turned.
"What?""
He kept his eyes on the road.
"Three months before your crash, there was a break-in at Hayes Global.""
"I remember.""
Everyone said it was a robbery.
"Nothing was stolen.""
I frowned.
"Then why break in?""
Marcus hesitated.
"Someone was looking for something.""
"What?""
He looked at me.
"Your grandfather's original inheritance documents.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"The same documents that prove I'm not the rightful owner?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because someone didn't want you to inherit.""
I stared forward.
"Who?""
Marcus was quiet.
Then:
"Someone who knew the truth before anyone else.""
We arrived twenty minutes later.
The building looked forgotten.
Old bricks.
Broken lights.
Windows covered in dust.
Not the kind of place someone with my background would ever visit.
But apparently, this was where my father had hidden.
We climbed the stairs.
Third floor.
Apartment 3B.
The door was slightly open.
Marcus immediately stopped.
"Something's wrong.""
I looked at him.
"How do you know?""
"Because Thomas never left this door unlocked.""
A chill moved through me.
I pushed it open.
"Hello?""
No answer.
The apartment was dark.
But someone had been there.
Drawers were open.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
A chair was overturned.
Someone had searched the place.
Not quickly.
Desperately.
I walked deeper inside.
On the wall were photographs.
My father.
My mother.
Me.
A child.
A family I never knew existed.
My throat tightened.
There were dozens of pictures.
Years of moments I had missed.
Then I saw something on the table.
A small wooden box.
My name was carved into the top.
*Daniel.*
I opened it slowly.
Inside was a letter.
Yellowed with age.
The handwriting was familiar.
My mother's handwriting.
My hands began to shake.
I unfolded the paper.
Only one sentence was written.
*"Daniel, if you are reading this, it means Thomas failed to protect you.""*
I stopped breathing.
Marcus stepped closer.
"What does it say?""
I kept reading.
The next line destroyed me.
*"Your father did not leave us. I made him leave.""*
I stared at the words.
My mother.
The woman I trusted more than anyone.
The woman who raised me.
Had been hiding the truth too.
Then I noticed something else.
A second page.
A confession.
A name.
And the reason my entire family had spent twenty years lying.
I unfolded it.
The first sentence read:
*"The man who caused the accident that killed me was not a Whitmore.""*
My eyes moved to the final line.
And my blood ran cold.
May you like
Because the name written there was one I had never expected.
*"It was someone from the Hayes family.""*
