Chapter 10: The Poisoned Truth
The word stayed in my head long after the phone call ended.
Poisoned.
My father wasn’t just gone.
He was murdered.
I looked at Diane.
For the first time since I came home, she wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t cold.
She wasn’t pretending.
She looked afraid.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because fear was honest.
“Who changed the report?”” I asked.
Nobody answered.
Mills looked away.
Ethan stared at the ground.
Michael closed his eyes.
I felt something inside me break.
“You all knew.””
My voice was quiet.
But everyone heard it.
Michael stepped forward.
“Ryan—”
“No.””
I pointed at him.
“No more excuses.””
The years of silence.
The secrets.
The lies.
Everything my family buried was standing in front of me.
“My father was poisoned, and everyone here knew something.””
Diane shook her head.
“I didn’t know he would die.””
Everyone turned toward her.
The sentence hung in the air.
I stared.
“What did you just say?””
Diane realized what she had admitted.
Her face changed.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t know he would die?””
I stepped closer.
“So you knew something would happen.””
She looked away.
Mills interrupted.
“Careful, Diane.””
The warning in his voice made her flinch.
And suddenly I understood.
She wasn’t working with him.
She was afraid of him.
“You were never in control,” I said.
Diane looked at me.
“What?””
“You thought you were taking my father’s house.””
I pointed at Mills.
“But he was using you.””
Mills smiled.
“You’re smarter than I expected.””
I turned toward him.
“Did you poison my father?””
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he looked at Ethan.
“Tell him.””
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“Don’t.””
Mills laughed.
“You spent years protecting him.””
He looked at me.
“Your brother knows exactly what happened the night your father died.””
I turned.
“Ethan.””
He closed his eyes.
“I was there.””
The room went silent.
I felt my stomach drop.
“You were there when Dad died?””
“Yes.””
“And you didn’t tell me?””
“I couldn’t.””
I stepped back.
“Why?””
Ethan looked at the letter in my hand.
“Because Dad made me promise.””
My anger exploded.
“Everyone keeps saying Dad wanted this. Dad wanted that.””
I slammed the letter onto the table.
“But Dad is dead.””
My voice cracked.
“And I’m the one who had to spend three years losing everything.””
Nobody spoke.
Ethan looked like he wanted to say something.
But he didn’t.
That made it worse.
Finally, Michael said quietly:
“Ryan, your father knew he was dying.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“He knew someone was poisoning him.””
My heart stopped.
“Then why didn’t he tell anyone?””
Michael looked toward the house.
“Because he wanted proof.””
Mills smiled.
“Your father always needed proof.””
I turned toward him.
“And you gave him a reason to need it.””
Mills’ expression changed.
Just slightly.
Enough.
I saw anger.
Not guilt.
Anger.
“You think you understand this?””
“Yes.””
“No.””
He stepped closer.
“You know what your father told me before he died?””
Nobody moved.
“He said the biggest mistake he ever made was trusting the wrong person.””
My eyes narrowed.
“Who?””
Mills smiled.
“Your brother.””
Ethan immediately reacted.
“That’s a lie.””
“Is it?””
Mills reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a photograph.
Then placed it on the table.
I picked it up.
The picture showed Ethan.
Standing beside Mills.
Outside the same warehouse.
The date was from three years ago.
Before my arrest.
My hands went cold.
“What is this?””
Ethan looked away.
“Ryan…”
“No.””
I looked at him.
“Explain.””
He didn’t.
And that silence hurt more than any lie.
Mills walked toward the door.
“You should ask your brother why he was working with me before you decide who killed your father.””
I watched him leave.
Nobody stopped him.
Nobody moved.
Because every person in that room was hiding something.
And I had finally reached the point where I didn’t know who to trust.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
From my father’s number.
My blood froze.
That number had been disconnected eight months ago.
I opened it.
May you like
One sentence appeared.
*Ryan, if you are reading this, Ethan is the last person you should trust.*
