Chapter 4: The Name Hidden In The Past
For a few seconds, I couldn't breathe.
The voice on the phone was still there.
Waiting.
But all I could hear was the pounding of my own heartbeat.
"My wife's father was at the scene?""
The lawyer didn't answer immediately.
That silence was worse than anything he could have said.
"Mr. Hayes?""
"I'm sorry, Marcus.""
"Sorry for what?""
I looked at Nia.
She was staring at me, confused.
My mother had gone completely pale.
"Tell me what happened.""
The man sighed.
"Your father, Michael Reed, was involved in an accident twenty years ago.""
"I know that.""
"No, you know what you were told.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What does that mean?""
"It means there were details that were never made public.""
I looked around the kitchen.
The place that had always felt safe suddenly felt like it was full of locked doors.
"What details?""
"Not over the phone.""
I almost laughed.
"You're calling me after twenty years and telling me not to ask questions over the phone?""
"I understand how this sounds.""
"No, you don't.""
My voice rose.
"You don't understand because I just found out my mother lied to me, my wife thinks my mother betrayed me, and now you're telling me her father was connected to my father's death.""
Nobody spoke.
Then the lawyer quietly said:
"Meet me tomorrow.""
The call ended.
I lowered my phone.
Nia immediately stepped forward.
"Marcus, what did he say?""
I looked at her.
"Why was your father at the scene the night mine died?""
Her face changed.
Not anger.
Not confusion.
Fear.
Real fear.
"I don't know.""
"You don't know?""
"I swear.""
"Your father never told you anything?""
She shook her head.
"My father was sick for years before he died. He barely talked about the past.""
I watched her carefully.
"Then why did you recognize his handwriting?""
She swallowed.
"Because that letter looks exactly like the ones he used to write.""
My mother slowly stood.
"Marcus.""
I turned toward her.
"How long have you known about Daniel Carter?""
She looked down.
"Since before you married Nia.""
The answer hit me harder than I expected.
"You knew?""
"I knew your father and Daniel knew each other.""
"And you never told me?""
She wiped her eyes.
"Your father made me promise.""
I stared at her.
"Mom, Dad has been gone for twenty years.""
"I know.""
"Why are you still protecting him?""
Her face broke.
"Because he was my husband.""
I looked away.
For the first time in my life, I saw my mother not just as my mother.
But as a woman who had lost someone.
A woman who had carried secrets alone.
But I was still hurt.
"You let me believe my whole life was built on the truth.""
"It was.""
"Was it?""
The question hung between us.
Nobody answered.
That night, nobody slept.
Not really.
I stayed in the living room until sunrise.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
At five in the morning, I found my mother sitting alone at the kitchen table.
She was holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold.
"You should sleep.""
She looked up.
"So should you.""
I sat across from her.
"Tell me everything.""
Her hands shook.
"I don't know where to start.""
"Start with Dad.""
She looked toward the window.
"Your father was a good man.""
I almost smiled.
"That's always how people start before they tell you something bad.""
She looked hurt.
"Marcus.""
"Mom, I need the truth.""
She nodded.
"When your father met Daniel, they were business partners.""
"Partners?""
"Yes.""
"What kind of business?""
She hesitated.
"Real estate.""
I frowned.
"Dad was an accountant.""
"He became more involved later.""
That was something I never knew.
My father had always been described as a quiet office worker.
Someone who came home, ate dinner, and helped me with homework.
Not someone involved in business deals.
"What happened between them?""
My mother looked down.
"They discovered something.""
"What?""
"Fraud.""
The word landed heavily.
"Your father found out Daniel was involved with dishonest business practices.""
I stared.
"Nia's father?""
She nodded slowly.
"Your father wanted to report it.""
"And Daniel?""
"He begged him not to.""
I leaned back.
"Why?""
"Because Daniel said he would lose everything.""
The kitchen felt colder.
"What happened next?""
My mother closed her eyes.
"The night your father died, he was going to meet Daniel.""
"To talk?""
"Yes.""
"Then why was Daniel at the accident?""
She didn't answer.
That scared me.
"Mom.""
She whispered:
"Because Daniel was the last person who saw your father alive.""
I felt a chill.
"And you knew this?""
She nodded.
"I found out later.""
"How?""
She looked at her hands.
"Because Daniel came to our house that night.""
I froze.
"What?""
"He came after the police left.""
"Why?""
She started crying.
"He told me your father had been planning to expose him.""
I stood up.
"And you still didn't tell me?""
"I was scared.""
"Of what?""
She looked at me.
"Of losing you.""
I couldn't speak.
She continued.
"Daniel told me if the truth came out, there would be a long investigation. He said your father's name would be dragged through the mud.""
"So you protected me?""
"I thought I was.""
I looked toward the staircase.
Nia was standing there.
I hadn't heard her come down.
She had heard everything.
Her face was full of shock.
"My father...""
My mother looked at her.
"I'm sorry.""
Nia shook her head.
"No.""
Her voice cracked.
"No, you're lying.""
Nobody moved.
She walked into the kitchen.
"My father wasn't like that.""
I wanted to believe her.
Because I loved her.
But I also knew something now.
Everyone had been protecting someone.
Everyone had been hiding something.
Nia looked at me.
"Marcus, you can't believe this.""
I stared at her.
"Why not?""
"Because my father loved people.""
"So did mine.""
She went quiet.
That was the problem.
Good memories didn't erase bad choices.
My phone buzzed.
A text message.
From Robert Hayes.
The lawyer.
The message contained one sentence.
"Bring your mother's original documents. The copies are not what they appear to be.""
I looked at the papers on the table.
Then at my mother.
Then at Nia.
And suddenly I realized something.
The papers my wife found in my mother's room weren't proof of my mother's betrayal.
They were proof that someone had been searching for something.
And they had found it.
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The question was:
What exactly did they think my mother was hiding?
