Chapter 7: The Woman in the Photograph
I stared at the picture until my eyes started hurting.
The image was grainy, taken from somewhere inside the house.
But there was no mistaking it.
Claire was standing in our living room.
And beside her was a man whose face I knew from old family photographs.
My uncle, Thomas Cross.
The problem was simple.
Thomas Cross had been dead for fifteen years.
I looked at Ethan.
“What kind of game are you playing?””
His expression didn’t change.
“I’m not playing anything.””
“You expect me to believe my dead uncle is standing next to my wife?””
“No.””
He stepped closer.
“I expect you to ask the right question.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What question?””
“Not how.””
He pointed at the picture.
“Why.””
The room felt colder.
I looked toward the stairs.
Toward where Claire and Noah were hiding.
Every part of me wanted to run upstairs and demand answers.
But something stopped me.
Fear.
Not fear of the truth.
Fear of what the truth could do to my family.
“Where did you get this?””
Ethan looked away.
“From the same person who sent you the messages.””
“That’s not an answer.””
“It’s the only one you’re getting tonight.””
I stepped forward.
“You break into my house, show me impossible pictures, and expect me to trust you?””
“No.””
His voice was quiet.
“I expect you to understand that whoever is doing this wants you angry.””
I froze.
Because he was right.
Anger was exactly what they wanted.
A man who couldn’t think.
A father who reacted.
Someone who could be manipulated.
The sound of footsteps came from upstairs.
Claire appeared at the top of the stairs.
Her face changed when she saw Ethan.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
That hurt more than anything.
“Claire.””
She closed her eyes.
“Daniel…”
“How long have you known he was here?””
She slowly walked down.
“I didn’t know.””
I held up the phone.
“Then explain this.””
Her face went pale.
She saw the picture.
And immediately looked away.
That was all I needed.
“You know something.””
She didn’t deny it.
“Daniel, please.””
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“Not this time.””
Ethan stepped back.
“This is between you two.””
I looked at him.
“You brought this into my house.””
“No.””
He looked at Claire.
“She did.””
Claire flinched.
“Stop.””
I turned toward her.
“What does that mean?””
She sat down slowly.
Like her legs couldn’t hold her anymore.
“Thomas wasn’t my only connection to your family.””
I stared.
“What?””
She looked at me.
“I knew your father.””
The words barely registered.
“My father died before we met.””
“Yes.””
“Then how?””
She swallowed.
“Because he came to me before he died.””
My mind went blank.
“What are you talking about?””
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“He asked me to protect something.””
“What?””
She looked upstairs.
At Noah.
“You.””
I laughed quietly.
A broken sound.
“That makes no sense.””
“I know.””
“Claire, my father barely knew you.””
“He knew more than you think.””
I looked at Ethan.
He wasn’t surprised.
Which meant he already knew.
“How?””
Claire whispered:
“Because your father knew someone would come after you.””
“Who?””
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.””
“You’re lying.””
“I’m not.””
She stood.
“Daniel, I spent fifteen years trying to keep you away from this.””
“And you failed.””
The words came out colder than I intended.
She looked hurt.
But she didn’t argue.
Because she knew.
I walked toward the table and opened the folder again.
The documents inside weren’t random.
They were records.
Transfers.
Names.
And one file marked with a date.
The day Noah was born.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
My father’s handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
*Daniel, if you are reading this, then I am no longer able to protect you.*
My breath caught.
I kept reading.
*There is a reason I never told you about the Cross Foundation. There is a reason I kept certain people away from you.*
I looked at Claire.
Then Ethan.
Then back at the letter.
*The person you trust most will be the person who can hurt you the deepest.*
The room went silent.
Because the sentence wasn’t a warning.
It was a prediction.
A crack appeared in the window behind us.
A small bullet hole.
Everyone froze.
Ethan moved instantly.
He grabbed Claire and pulled her down.
Marcus’s security team rushed through the front door seconds later.
I stared at the broken glass.
Someone had just tried to kill us.
But the bullet wasn’t aimed at me.
It wasn’t aimed at Ethan.
It was aimed at Claire.
And lying on the floor beside her was the one thing that made my blood turn cold.
Another envelope.
May you like
With one sentence written across it.
*She knows where the missing money is.*
