Chapter 4: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
For fourteen years, everyone had believed Richard Williams was dead.
His photograph hung in the mansion's west gallery beneath a polished brass plaque. His obituary had appeared in several newspapers. His funeral had been attended by politicians, business executives, and members of one of the wealthiest families in the state.
Yet there he stood.
Alive.
The elderly man wore a dark three-piece suit, a silver watch, and an expression that suggested he had never once been required to explain himself.
His gray hair was neatly combed backward. His eyes were pale blue, sharp, and disturbingly similar to James's.
He looked at me.
Then he looked at the documents in my hands.
"Give those to me.""
I tightened my grip.
"Who are you?""
A faint smile crossed his face.
"Richard Williams. Your grandfather.""
The word sounded foreign.
Grandfather.
I had spent twenty-eight years believing I had nobody.
Now two men who shared my blood were standing in front of me, and neither looked happy to see me.
Margaret began signing furiously.
Richard glanced at her.
"Still dramatic, Margaret?""
She shook her head and signed again.
You should be ashamed.
Richard laughed quietly.
"After all these years, that's still your favorite accusation?""
James stepped between us.
"Father, we need to discuss this privately.""
Richard turned toward him.
"Privately? You've had fourteen years to handle this privately. And somehow, the girl is standing in Rebecca's bedroom holding documents that should never have left the safe.""
I stared at him.
"Why did everyone tell me you were dead?""
Richard removed his gloves.
"Because it was necessary.""
"Necessary for whom?""
"For this family.""
I almost laughed.
Everyone in the Williams family seemed to use those same words whenever they wanted to justify hurting someone.
Richard approached the dressing table and placed his gloves beside the perfume bottles.
"You have your mother's eyes.""
"Don't talk about my mother.""
His eyebrows rose.
"Excuse me?""
"You don't get to stand here after hiding for fourteen years and pretend you miss her.""
His expression hardened.
"Your mother was an emotional young woman who made several disastrous decisions.""
Margaret slammed her hand against her wheelchair.
Richard barely looked at her.
"Please don't start.""
She signed:
You killed her.
My breath caught.
Richard's face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
He turned toward Margaret.
"Careful.""
She continued signing.
You took her daughter. You destroyed her life.
Richard walked closer to her wheelchair.
"Your memory has become unreliable.""
Margaret stared at him with pure hatred.
I stepped between them.
"Don't threaten her.""
Richard examined me from head to toe.
"You're brave.""
"No. I'm angry.""
He gave a small nod.
"Anger is understandable. But it is rarely useful.""
He held out his hand.
"Give me the documents, Emily.""
I shook my head.
"Tell me what happened to Rebecca first.""
Richard sighed.
"Your mother was involved in a relationship with a man your family would never have accepted. She became pregnant. She wanted to leave the family and take you with her.""
"Why wouldn't you accept her relationship?""
"Because she was making a foolish decision.""
"That wasn't your decision to make.""
Richard's eyes narrowed.
"You don't understand how the world works.""
"I understand that my mother disappeared, and somebody forged documents saying she gave me away.""
James shifted uncomfortably.
Richard noticed.
Then he turned toward his son.
"Did you tell her about the money?""
James remained silent.
Richard's expression darkened.
"James.""
"No.""
"Then perhaps I should.""
James stepped forward.
"Father, stop.""
Richard ignored him.
"The money you found was not payment for silence. It was a settlement.""
"A settlement with whom?""
"Your mother's medical providers.""
I looked at the receipt again.
"Why would a hospital need that much money?""
Richard walked toward the window.
"Rebecca was injured in an accident. Her treatment was expensive. We paid for everything.""
"Where was she treated?""
"St. Catherine's Medical Center.""
I looked at Margaret.
She was shaking her head.
Richard continued.
"She died after complications.""
"Then why did you tell everyone she had abandoned me?""
He turned.
"Because the truth would have destroyed your childhood.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You didn't protect my childhood. You stole it.""
For the first time, Richard seemed genuinely irritated.
"You should be grateful.""
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
"Grateful?""
"You were raised. You were educated. You survived. Do you think every child receives those privileges?""
I felt my cheeks grow hot.
"I grew up in foster homes.""
His expression didn't change.
"Then your guardian arrangements were handled poorly.""
"Handled poorly?""
I stepped toward him.
"I spent my seventh birthday waiting for someone to pick me up from school. I spent Christmases sleeping in unfamiliar bedrooms. I was told my mother didn't want me. I worked three jobs to pay for community college.""
My voice broke.
"And you're telling me I should be grateful?""
Richard looked at James.
"Get her out of here.""
James didn't move.
That hesitation told me something important.
He was afraid of his father.
And he had been afraid of him for a very long time.
Richard finally took the documents from the dressing table.
He examined the signatures.
Then he placed the papers inside a leather folder.
"These are family records. They don't belong to you.""
"They're about my mother.""
"They are confidential.""
"They're about my life.""
He looked at me.
"Your life is not the only life that matters.""
I reached for the folder.
He pulled it away.
James stepped forward.
"Father, that's enough.""
Richard turned slowly.
"What did you say?""
"I said enough.""
For a moment, the two men stared at each other.
Richard smiled.
"Have you forgotten who paid for your education? Who built your company? Who kept you from becoming a complete disappointment?""
James's face tightened.
"I haven't forgotten anything.""
"Then remember your responsibilities.""
Margaret suddenly began signing.
I watched her hands carefully.
Tell her about the fire.
James closed his eyes.
Richard's expression went cold.
"Not another word.""
Margaret pointed at the documents.
Then at me.
Rebecca didn't die in an accident.
I turned toward Richard.
"What fire?""
He said nothing.
"What fire?""
Richard walked toward the door.
"James, have the staff remove her belongings. She will not be working here tomorrow.""
I blocked his path.
"You don't get to fire me before answering.""
He stopped inches from me.
"Young lady, I have buried people for less disrespect than this.""
My stomach tightened.
Then Margaret did something unexpected.
She reached into the pocket of her navy gown and removed a small silver key.
She pressed it into my palm.
Her fingers curled around mine.
I recognized the sign she made.
The truth is downstairs.
Richard saw the key.
His expression transformed.
"Where did you get that?""
Margaret smiled.
It was the first time I had seen her smile at him.
Then she signed:
You missed one room.
Richard grabbed the armrest of her wheelchair.
"Where is the other key?""
James immediately stepped forward.
"Father, let go of her.""
Richard released Margaret.
But his eyes remained fixed on the silver key.
I slipped it into my pocket.
Richard looked directly at me.
"Emily, whatever you find downstairs, you will regret opening that door.""
I looked at the portrait of my mother.
Then back at him.
"Maybe I've spent twenty-eight years regretting the wrong things.""
I walked out.
James followed me into the hallway.
"Emily, wait.""
I turned.
"What?""
He glanced toward his father's room.
Then lowered his voice.
"There's something you need to know.""
"What now?""
"Rebecca didn't die at St. Catherine's.""
I froze.
"What?""
James swallowed.
"She was transferred somewhere else.""
"Where?""
He looked at the key in my pocket.
Then he whispered:
"Under this house.""
Before I could ask what he meant, a loud crash came from Rebecca's bedroom.
Richard was shouting.
And Margaret was screaming silently, her hands moving desperately toward us.
May you like
James grabbed my arm.
"Run.""
