Chapter 4: The Woman Who Knew My Father Was Alive
For three seconds, nobody spoke.
Not because there was nothing to say.
Because everyone was trying to understand something impossible.
My father had been dead for eight years.
I had stood beside his hospital bed.
I had held his hand.
I had watched doctors lower their eyes before telling me there was nothing more they could do.
I had watched my mother break apart.
And now Vanessa was standing in front of me, whispering words that made my entire reality collapse.
"Your father wasn't dead when I met him.""
I stared at her.
"What did you just say?""
Vanessa's face was covered in tears.
"I didn't mean it like that.""
"Then explain it.""
She looked toward the door.
Like she was searching for an escape.
That was when I knew.
People only looked for exits when they were afraid of what would happen if they stayed.
My mother stood slowly.
"Vanessa.""
Her voice was quiet.
Almost too quiet.
"How did you know my husband after his death?""
Vanessa shook her head.
"I didn't.""
I held up the photograph.
"Then explain this.""
The picture showed her standing beside my father.
Not a blurry image.
Not a coincidence.
Her hand was resting on his shoulder.
They looked comfortable.
Like they knew each other well.
Vanessa looked at it and started crying harder.
"I can explain.""
"Then explain.""
She swallowed.
"My mother took me to see him.""
"When?""
She didn't answer.
"Vanessa.""
"Three years ago.""
My chest tightened.
"Three years ago?""
I looked at my mother.
She looked as shocked as I felt.
"Your father died eight years ago.""
Vanessa closed her eyes.
"I know.""
"Then who is that?""
She whispered:
"I don't know.""
The answer made me angrier.
"You expect me to believe that?""
"No.""
She looked at me.
"I expect you to believe that I was lied to too.""
For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then I remembered the wedding.
The way she threw my mother's gift.
The way she tried to stop me from reading my father's letter.
The way she already knew what was inside.
"What did my father tell you?"" I asked.
Vanessa looked away.
"Nothing.""
"Nothing?""
"He told me not to trust anyone.""
My mother stepped forward.
"Why would he tell you that?""
Vanessa's eyes moved toward her.
"Because he was scared.""
"Of who?""
Silence.
Then Charlotte spoke.
"Vanessa.""
Everyone looked at her.
She looked terrified.
But she continued.
"Tell him about the meeting.""
Vanessa's expression changed.
"Charlotte, please.""
"No.""
Charlotte shook her head.
"I covered for you long enough.""
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
"What meeting?""
Charlotte looked at me.
"The first time Vanessa met your father, he gave her something.""
"What?""
"A flash drive.""
I stared.
"Why?""
Charlotte looked at Vanessa.
"Because he knew he couldn't trust anyone else.""
My mother covered her mouth.
"No...""
I turned toward her.
"Mom, what?""
She sat down.
"Your father had a backup file.""
"About the investigation?""
She nodded.
"He said if anything happened to him, the truth would eventually come out.""
I looked at Vanessa.
"And you had this file?""
Vanessa shook her head quickly.
"No. I never had it.""
"Then why did you marry me?""
The question hurt both of us.
Her face crumbled.
"I didn't marry you for money.""
"Then why?""
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
That silence was worse than any confession.
I walked away from her.
I needed air.
I stepped outside into the cold night.
The wedding lights were still glowing.
The flowers were still beautiful.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Except my life.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps.
My mother.
She stood beside me.
"I'm sorry.""
I looked at her.
"For what?""
"For not telling you sooner.""
"You knew?""
She looked down.
"I knew your father was hiding something.""
"How much?""
She hesitated.
"Enough to know he was afraid.""
I looked back toward the reception hall.
Vanessa was standing alone.
"Did Dad trust her?""
My mother's eyes filled with sadness.
"No.""
"Then why did he meet her?""
She whispered:
"Because he believed she could lead him to the truth.""
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
A video file.
I pressed play.
The screen showed a dark room.
A man sat in a chair.
Older.
Tired.
But alive.
My hand started shaking.
Because I knew that face.
I knew that voice.
"Marcus," the man said.
My knees nearly gave out.
It was my father.
The video continued.
"If you're watching this, it means Vanessa found you before I could.""
I looked at my mother.
She covered her mouth.
Then my father said something that made my blood turn cold.
"Do not trust my wife.""
I froze.
May you like
Because he wasn't talking about Vanessa.
He was talking about my mother.
