Chapter 5: What My Father Buried
“Dad.””
My voice sounded smaller than I wanted.
He wouldn't look at me.
“Dad, what did Mom mean?””
The security guard shut off the monitor.
The room became painfully quiet.
Outside, the storm raged against the hull.
Dad sat down.
For the first time in my life, he looked old.
Not tired.
Old.
Like twenty years had suddenly landed on his shoulders.
I crouched in front of him.
“What happened to Mom?””
“I told you what happened.””
“You told me she died in a car accident.””
“She did.””
“Then why did Graham have that photograph?””
Dad looked up.
“Because he knows things about our family.””
“What things?””
He exhaled.
“Things I thought were buried.””
I stood.
“Then unbury them.””
Dad closed his eyes.
“Your mother and I built Whitmore Holdings from nothing.””
“I know.””
“No, you don't.””
His voice cracked.
“We didn't build it alone.””
I waited.
“Victor had a company too.””
“Graham's father?””
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
Dad looked toward the steel door.
“Twenty years ago, Victor and I were partners.””
I stared at him.
“Partners?””
“We started a technology company together. It was small. We had twelve employees.””
“What happened to it?””
“Your mother discovered Victor was stealing.””
I frowned.
“Stealing what?””
“Money.””
“How much?””
“Enough to destroy us.””
Dad's hands tightened.
“We confronted him.””
“And?””
“He denied everything.””
I whispered, “Then what?””
“Your mother found proof.””
A loud wave struck the yacht.
Dad barely reacted.
“She was going to report him.””
“Did she?””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because she died before she could.””
I stopped breathing.
“You think Victor killed her?””
Dad didn't answer.
“That isn't what you're saying.””
“I don't know who killed her.””
“But you suspect him.””
“Yes.””
The room suddenly felt colder.
“Then why did you let Graham into our family?””
Dad's eyes filled with regret.
“Because Graham convinced me he had nothing to do with his father's crimes.””
“And you believed him?””
“I wanted to.””
The words hit harder than anything else.
I stepped back.
“You knew.””
“I knew there were things I couldn't prove.””
“And you still let me marry him.””
“I tried to stop you.””
“You should have told me.””
“I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
Dad looked at me.
“Of losing you.””
I laughed bitterly.
“You almost did.””
He flinched.
I turned away.
For years, I'd thought my father was overprotective.
Now I realized he'd been afraid.
Not of Graham.
Of history repeating itself.
The radio crackled.
Everyone froze.
Graham's voice returned.
“Touching family reunion.””
Dad picked it up.
“You killed your own father?””
“No.””
“Where is he?””
“Close.””
“Let him go.””
“He's useful.””
I stepped toward the radio.
“Graham, why are you doing this?””
“Because your father has something I need.””
“What?””
“The Whitmore Ledger.””
Dad's face drained of color.
I turned.
“What ledger?””
He didn't answer.
Graham laughed through the radio.
“She doesn't know?””
“Graham—”
“Tell her, Robert.””
Dad stared at the floor.
I whispered:
“What is the ledger?””
Dad finally looked at me.
“It's proof.””
“Proof of what?””
“Everything.””
“Everything?””
“The theft. The shell companies. The offshore accounts.””
I swallowed.
“And Mom?””
Dad's eyes closed.
“She found it.””
My chest tightened.
“Where is it?””
“I don't know.””
Graham interrupted.
“I do.””
Everyone looked at the radio.
“It was never destroyed.””
Dad's face changed.
Graham continued.
“Your mother hid it before she died.””
I whispered, “Where?””
“That's what your father knows.””
Dad shook his head.
“I don't.””
“You do.””
“I don't.””
“You've spent twenty years pretending you forgot.””
Graham's voice became vicious.
“Tell her where you hid it.””
Dad looked at me.
“I didn't hide it.””
“Then who did?””
“Your mother.””
I stared at him.
“Mom hid something?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
Graham laughed.
“Liar.””
The radio went silent.
Then a different voice came through.
A woman's voice.
Helena.
“Claire?””
I stepped closer.
“Where are you?””
“I'm sorry.””
Her voice trembled.
“I never wanted this.””
I almost laughed.
“You watched your son drug me.””
“I know.””
“You helped plan my murder.””
“I know.””
“And now you're sorry?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Silence.
Then she whispered:
“Because Graham isn't doing this for the money.””
My father looked at me.
“What?””
Helena continued.
“The inheritance was never the real reason.””
“Then what is?””
“He believes your father killed my husband.””
Victor.
I felt dizzy.
“Victor is alive.””
“Yes.””
“Then why would Graham think Dad killed him?””
“Because Victor told him that.””
Dad shook his head.
“Victor knows I didn't kill him.””
Helena started crying.
“He doesn't believe that anymore.””
“Where are you?””
No answer.
“Helena!””
A door slammed.
Then a man's voice.
“Who are you talking to?””
Victor.
Helena gasped.
The radio went dead.
Dad stood.
“We have to find them.””
The security guard shook his head.
“Sir, we can't leave this room.””
Dad pointed at the monitor.
“Graham knows where we are.””
“That's exactly why we stay.””
A deep explosion shook the yacht.
The floor jumped beneath us.
Lights went out.
Someone shouted.
Then emergency lights returned.
The guard ran to the panel.
“Fuel's reached the generator.””
“How long?””
“Minutes.””
Dad looked at me.
“There's a lifeboat.””
“Can we launch it?””
“Not from here.””
“We need to reach the upper deck.””
The guard shook his head.
“That's where Graham is.””
Dad looked at me.
I understood.
“We have to go.””
He nodded.
We opened the door.
Smoke filled the corridor.
The security guards moved first.
Dad kept me behind him.
We reached the stairwell.
Halfway up, we heard footsteps above.
Everyone stopped.
A voice floated down.
“Claire?””
Graham.
Dad raised his weapon.
“Come down.””
“No.””
A shadow appeared.
Then Graham stepped into view.
His shirt was torn.
Blood ran down one side of his face.
He looked almost human again.
Almost.
“Claire,” he said.
I stared at him.
“Why?””
He looked at me.
For the first time, his expression cracked.
“You really want to know?””
“Yes.””
He descended one step.
“Your mother didn't die in an accident.””
Dad whispered:
“Graham.””
“She was murdered.””
My heart stopped.
Graham pointed at my father.
“And he knows who did it.””
Dad raised his weapon.
“Don't.””
Graham smiled.
“Ask him.””
I looked at my father.
“Dad?””
He said nothing.
“Tell me.””
Still nothing.
Graham descended another step.
Then he said:
“Your mother wasn't the first Whitmore woman they tried to erase.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
He smiled.
“Ask your father about your sister.””
My world stopped.
I had never had a sister.
At least, that was what I'd been told.
Dad's face collapsed.
And before I could ask another question, the yacht's emergency system announced:
*LIFEBOAT DEPLOYMENT IN SIXTY SECONDS.*
Then Graham disappeared through a side door.
Dad grabbed my hand.
“Claire, we need to move.””
I didn't move.
“My sister?””
Dad looked at me.
May you like
And whispered:
“Her name was Emily.””
