Chapter 5: The Brother Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Nobody moved.
Not because we were frozen.
Because our minds were trying to reject what our eyes were seeing.
The man standing at the entrance looked like someone who had spent years disappearing.
His coat was old-fashioned.
His silver hair was neatly combed back.
The cane in his hand tapped softly against the marble floor with every step.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Each sound felt like a countdown.
Weston Voss looked like he had seen a nightmare walk into the room.
"Marcus.""
The name left his mouth like a confession.
The old man's eyes moved toward him.
Not with anger.
Not with surprise.
With disappointment.
"Hello, little brother.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Little brother.
The phrase sounded impossible.
Because everyone had just spent the last few minutes telling me this man was dead.
Odalys stepped backward.
"No.""
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Marcus Voss looked at her.
"I know what you were told.""
She shook her head.
"You died.""
A faint smile crossed his face.
"That's what everyone was supposed to believe.""
My fingers tightened around the envelope.
I didn't understand anything anymore.
The truth wasn't unfolding.
It was multiplying.
Every answer created three more questions.
"Who are you?"" I asked.
Marcus looked at me.
And his expression changed.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he recognized me.
"You have Clara's eyes.""
My heart stopped.
Nobody had ever said that before.
Not like that.
Not with sadness.
"How do you know my mother?""
He looked at Weston.
Then back at me.
"Because I was there when she discovered the truth.""
Weston's voice became sharp.
"Don't.""
Marcus ignored him.
"I was there when she realized what your grandfather had built.""
"Stop.""
"I was there when she realized Weston wasn't the person she needed to fear.""
I turned toward Weston.
He looked away.
That was enough.
"You knew.""
Weston swallowed.
"I knew Marcus was alive.""
The words were so calm that for a second I didn't understand them.
Then they hit.
"You knew?""
My voice echoed.
"You knew this entire time?""
"Elara—"
"No.""
I stepped back.
"Every person in this room keeps telling me they were protecting me.""
My eyes moved between them.
"But nobody protected me.""
The words came out stronger than I expected.
"You protected yourselves.""
Nobody argued.
Because nobody could.
Marcus slowly walked closer.
"Your mother was right about that.""
Weston looked at him.
"Don't use her.""
Marcus stopped.
"Use her?""
His face hardened.
"Clara was the only person in this entire family who wasn't afraid of the truth.""
The sentence cut through the room.
I looked at him.
"What happened to her?""
Marcus became quiet.
For the first time, I saw something like guilt.
"I don't know.""
I almost laughed.
Another person.
Another version of the same answer.
"I don't know.""
I shook my head.
"Everyone says that.""
Marcus looked at me.
"Because sometimes the truth is that we failed someone.""
The honesty surprised me.
He didn't defend himself.
Didn't pretend.
Didn't make excuses.
That made him more difficult to hate.
"What did you do?"" I asked.
Marcus looked at the envelope.
"Your mother found documents connecting our family business to illegal operations.""
"Illegal how?""
He looked at Weston.
Weston closed his eyes.
"Marcus.""
"No more secrets.""
The old man's voice became stronger.
"No more protecting the Voss name.""
He turned back to me.
"Your mother discovered that your grandfather had been using the company to move money through hidden accounts.""
I listened.
My mother's face appeared in my mind again.
The late nights.
The locked drawers.
The phone calls where she whispered because she thought I was asleep.
"She wanted to expose him.""
Marcus nodded.
"Yes.""
"Then why didn't she?""
A painful silence.
"Because she trusted the wrong person.""
My eyes moved to Weston.
He flinched.
"No.""
Marcus looked at him.
"That is not what I said.""
The room went quiet.
Weston's face tightened.
"Then say what you mean.""
Marcus sighed.
"Clara trusted everyone in this family because she believed there was still something good left.""
He looked at me.
"She trusted me.""
A pause.
"She trusted Weston.""
My chest tightened.
"What happened?""
Marcus's eyes dropped.
"Your mother copied the documents.""
"Copies.""
I remembered the envelope.
"The ones she left me.""
"Yes.""
"And then?""
Marcus gripped his cane.
"Then someone found out.""
The lights above us flickered again.
Nobody noticed this time.
Everyone was listening.
"Who?"" I asked.
Marcus looked toward the windows.
"That is the question your mother spent the rest of her life trying to answer.""
My stomach dropped.
"Rest of her life?""
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Everyone became still.
Because Marcus had just said something nobody else had.
Weston's expression changed.
"Marcus.""
Too late.
I stepped closer.
"What did you mean?""
Marcus looked at me.
And I saw pity.
I hated that.
I didn't want pity.
I wanted answers.
"Your mother didn't disappear.""
My breathing stopped.
"She died?""
Nobody spoke.
That silence told me everything.
"No.""
My voice shook.
"No, that's not true.""
Marcus looked devastated.
"Elara.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"My mother died years later.""
I said it like I was correcting him.
Like saying it confidently could make it true.
"She had cancer.""
Marcus looked at me.
"Did she tell you that?""
I froze.
The question was small.
But it destroyed something.
Because no.
My mother hadn't told me much about her illness.
She had always said she was tired.
She had always said everything was fine.
She had hidden hospital visits.
Hidden pain.
Hidden the truth.
Just like everyone else.
"She told me enough.""
Marcus looked away.
"Your mother was good at protecting people.""
I felt anger rising.
"Stop saying that like it's beautiful.""
Everyone looked at me.
"She protected everyone.""
My voice broke.
"Who protected her?""
Nobody answered.
Because nobody had.
The truth sat there.
Ugly.
Heavy.
Twenty years too late.
Then Weston spoke.
Quietly.
"I should have.""
I looked at him.
"What?""
He looked older suddenly.
"I should have protected her.""
The room changed.
Because for the first time, Weston Voss admitted something without being forced.
No excuses.
No explanations.
Just regret.
"I knew my father was dangerous.""
His voice lowered.
"I knew Marcus was trying to stop him.""
Marcus looked away.
"And I knew Clara was caught between all of us.""
I stared.
"What did you do?""
Weston looked at me.
"I tried to get her out.""
"Did you?""
"No.""
The answer came immediately.
"I failed.""
My eyes burned.
"You let me think she abandoned me.""
His face twisted.
"I thought if you hated her, you'd stop looking.""
The words made no sense.
"Stop looking for what?""
Weston looked at Marcus.
Then at the envelope.
"The truth.""
A phone rang.
Everyone turned.
Not Adrian's.
Not Marcus's.
Mine.
My hands trembled as I pulled it out.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Almost.
Then a message appeared.
One line.
No greeting.
No explanation.
Just words.
*Ask Marcus why your mother kept a second daughter secret.*
The room went silent.
My blood turned cold.
I looked up slowly.
"Second daughter?""
Nobody moved.
Marcus's face changed.
Weston's eyes widened.
Odalys whispered:
"What did Clara hide?""
And Marcus Voss slowly lowered his head.
Because he knew.
He knew exactly who that message was talking about.
Then he said the one sentence I never expected to hear.
"Elara...""
May you like
His voice broke.
"Your mother had another child.""
