Chapter 4 - WHAT MY FATHER HID
Richard didn't come inside.
He stood beneath the trees for perhaps thirty seconds.
Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
I wanted to chase him.
Every instinct in me screamed to get answers.
But Emily pulled me back.
“Don't.”
“That's my uncle.”
“He's dangerous.”
“So are you telling me you've been living here for nine years while a supposedly dead man watches you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I had nowhere else to go.”
I stared at her.
That sentence hurt more than any accusation.
The woman who had once lived in a mansion had spent nine years in a house with a patched roof.
And I had spent those same nine years buying buildings.
I sat down.
“I need to call Marcus.”
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if Richard found you this quickly, someone may be tracking your phone.”
I looked at my phone.
Then turned it off.
Emily sat opposite me.
“Daniel, you need to understand something.”
“What?”
“The people involved aren't just your uncle.”
“Who else?”
“Your father's attorney.”
“Samuel Reed?”
“Yes.”
I remembered Samuel.
A gray-haired lawyer who had handled the Whitmore estate for decades.
“He's still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Because he was afraid.”
“Afraid of Richard?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Afraid of your father.”
I stared at her.
“My father has been dead for six years.”
Emily nodded.
“And yet his instructions are still being carried out.”
The next morning, we drove to the nearest town.
I used an old phone I found in the glove compartment of the truck.
Marcus answered immediately.
“Daniel?”
“I'm fine.”
“You disappeared.”
“I needed privacy.”
“Where are you?”
I hesitated.
Then I gave him the address.
There was silence.
“Marcus?”
“I know that place.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
“Because your father sent me there once.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“Why?”
“He told me to find someone.”
“Who?”
“Emily.”
I looked at her.
She had heard him through the speaker.
Her face changed.
“Did you find her?”
“No.”
Marcus sounded uneasy.
“Your father told me she had stolen something.”
“What?”
“I never knew.”
I ended the call.
Emily stared through the windshield.
“Your driver knows.”
“Apparently.”
“Then why did he never tell you?”
“Because my father told him not to.”
We stopped at a diner.
The children ate pancakes.
Noah kept glancing at me.
Lily sat beside Emily.
I watched them.
Then Noah reached across the table.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have a big house?”
I smiled.
“I do.”
“How big?”
“Very.”
“Bigger than school?”
“Probably.”
He thought about it.
“Do you have a TV?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
I laughed.
“Too many.”
Lily frowned.
“Do you have a swimming pool?”
“Yes.”
She looked impressed.
Then she asked, “Why didn't you come before?”
The smile disappeared from my face.
I had no answer.
“I didn't know where you were.”
She looked at Emily.
“She knew.”
Emily lowered her eyes.
I felt a painful knot form in my chest.
“No,” I said gently. “Your mother didn't do anything wrong.”
Lily looked at me.
“Then why did you leave?”
I swallowed.
“Because I was stupid.”
Noah nodded.
“My mom says people can change.”
I looked at Emily.
She didn't smile.
But she didn't look away either.
That afternoon, we visited the county courthouse.
I wanted records.
Birth records.
Property records.
Anything connecting my family to Kentucky.
The clerk pulled up an old file.
Then she frowned.
“That's strange.”
“What?”
“This property was transferred twice.”
“To whom?”
She pointed at the screen.
The first transfer was from a shell company.
The second was to Emily.
But the transfer date was impossible.
Nine years ago.
Two days after Emily left my mansion.
I stared at the document.
“She didn't buy this.”
The clerk shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who transferred it?”
She scrolled.
The answer appeared.
Whitmore Family Trust.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Who authorized it?”
The clerk printed the record.
I looked at the signature.
My father's.
But my father had supposedly been in New York that week.
I knew because I had attended his birthday dinner.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
That evening, back at the house, I opened the flash drive.
There was one folder.
One file.
A video.
My father's face appeared on the screen.
He looked older than I remembered.
Tired.
Serious.
He stared directly into the camera.
“Daniel, if you're watching this, then Emily has finally brought you here.”
My heart stopped.
My father continued.
“I know you believe your wife abandoned you.”
Emily covered her mouth.
“She didn't.”
The video paused for a second.
Then his voice returned.
“She left because I ordered her to.”
I looked at Emily.
She was crying silently.
My father's face remained on the screen.
“I needed you to hate her.”
My hands went cold.
“Because if you knew the truth, Richard would have killed you both.”
The video continued.
“The trust requires Daniel Whitmore to have an heir. But Richard wants the trust for himself.”
My father leaned closer to the camera.
“Your son is the key.”
Noah was sleeping in the next room.
I stared at the screen.
Then my father's final words came.
“Daniel, I did something unforgivable.”
He paused.
“And one day, you will have to decide whether you can forgive me.”
The screen went black.
Nobody spoke.
Then Emily whispered something.
“What?”
She pointed toward the front door.
There was a white envelope lying on the floor.
It hadn't been there ten minutes earlier.
I picked it up.
Inside was a single photograph.
Noah and Lily sleeping.
Taken through their bedroom window.
May you like
On the back were seven words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THEM HIDDEN.
