Chapter 8: The Truth Hidden Inside A Lie
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Not me.
Not my mother.
Not Michael.
Even Thomas Whitmore stood perfectly still, as if he knew the words he had just spoken would take time to break through.
*Your mother was the one who handed him over.*
I looked at Linda Carter.
My mother.
The woman who had packed my lunches.
The woman who held my hand through every childhood nightmare.
The woman who sat beside me when Daniel died.
And suddenly, I didn’t know what I was looking at.
“Tell him.””
Thomas’s voice was calm.
Almost gentle.
That made it worse.
“Tell Ethan what you did.””
My mother looked at him with pure hatred.
“You don’t get to stand there and pretend you’re innocent.””
Thomas smiled.
“There it is.””
“What?””
“The same anger you’ve always had.””
My fists tightened.
“Stop talking around it.””
Everyone looked at me.
I stepped forward.
“I’m tired of secrets.””
My voice shook.
“I’m tired of people saying they protected me while they destroyed my life.””
I looked at my mother.
“Did you hand Daniel over?””
Her face collapsed.
“No.””
The answer came immediately.
Too quickly.
But then she whispered:
“Not the way he means.””
My heart sank.
“What does that mean?””
My mother looked at the ground.
“I told you I met Daniel that night.””
I nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
“I told you he gave me the documents.””
“Yes.””
“And I told you I was trying to save him.””
“Yes.””
She swallowed.
“I didn’t tell you what happened after.””
The rain continued falling.
Every drop felt like another second of my life I would never get back.
“What happened?””
My mother looked at Thomas.
Then at Michael.
Then finally at me.
“Daniel knew someone was following him.””
Michael’s expression changed.
“He never told me that.””
“He didn’t want you involved.””
My mother’s voice cracked.
“He knew Michael’s family would come after you if they realized you were still connected.””
I looked at Thomas.
“And he was right.””
Thomas didn’t react.
My mother continued.
“Daniel asked me to take the documents and hide them.””
“Why you?””
“Because he trusted me.””
The answer hurt.
Because it sounded like Daniel.
The man I thought had left me.
The man who had spent his final days trying to protect me.
“He told me to take you and leave.””
I frowned.
“Leave?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t we?””
My mother’s eyes filled.
“Because I made a mistake.””
Nobody spoke.
“I thought I could fix it.””
The words came out slowly.
“I thought I could convince Thomas to stop.””
My stomach tightened.
“You went to him?””
She nodded.
“I thought if I gave him a chance to explain, maybe he would let Daniel go.””
Thomas laughed quietly.
A cold, humorless sound.
“She always believed people had a conscience.””
My mother ignored him.
“I went to Thomas.””
“And?””
“He already knew.””
“About what?””
“Everything.””
The wind moved through the trees.
“He knew about the inheritance. He knew about you. He knew Daniel had the evidence.””
I looked at Thomas.
“So what happened?””
My mother’s eyes closed.
“He asked me where Daniel was.””
A chill went through me.
“And you told him?””
The silence answered first.
Then my mother whispered:
“Yes.””
My entire body went still.
Michael looked at her.
“Linda…”
“I thought he would talk to him.””
Her voice broke.
“I thought he wanted the documents. I thought he wanted to negotiate.””
She covered her mouth.
“I didn’t know.””
Thomas watched her.
“You always say that.””
My mother looked at him.
“Because it’s true.””
“No.””
Thomas shook his head.
“You knew exactly what would happen.””
Michael stepped forward.
“Don’t.””
Thomas turned toward him.
“Why? Because she deserves protection?””
His eyes moved back to my mother.
“She made her choice.””
I looked at Michael.
“Did you know?””
He didn’t answer.
That scared me.
“Michael.””
He looked at me.
“I knew she told Thomas where Daniel was.””
The pain hit harder than anger.
“You knew?””
“I found out later.””
“And you still trusted her?””
Michael looked at my mother.
“Yes.””
“Why?””
His answer was quiet.
“Because I knew why she did it.””
I shook my head.
“I don’t.””
My mother stepped closer.
“I was trying to save Daniel.””
“How?””
She wiped her tears.
“Because Thomas had already found him.””
I stopped.
“What?””
“Daniel wasn’t hiding from Thomas.””
My mother’s voice became barely audible.
“He was hiding from someone else.””
Everyone went silent.
I looked at Michael.
“What does that mean?””
He looked confused.
My mother looked toward the road.
“The night Daniel died…”
She took a breath.
“He wasn’t killed by Thomas.””
Thomas’s expression changed slightly.
The first sign of emotion I had seen from him.
“What did you say?””
My mother looked at him.
“You heard me.””
Michael stepped closer.
“Linda.””
She looked at him.
“I should have told you years ago.””
“Told me what?””
She looked at me.
“The person who caused Daniel’s death wasn’t Thomas.””
The world stopped.
“Then who?””
My mother’s eyes filled with fear.
“The person who was helping Robert.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“Helping Robert?””
She nodded.
“Robert wasn’t working alone.””
Thomas’s expression hardened.
“That’s impossible.””
My mother looked at him.
“Is it?””
Nobody answered.
Because suddenly Thomas didn’t look like a man revealing a secret.
He looked like a man realizing he didn’t know the whole story.
I noticed.
And so did Michael.
“You don’t know.””
Thomas looked at him.
“Know what?””
Michael stepped forward.
“You weren’t the only person trying to control the inheritance.””
Thomas’s face changed.
A tiny movement.
But enough.
“Who?””
My mother whispered:
“The person who signed the original agreement.””
I looked at the documents.
The trust.
The inheritance.
The signatures.
“Who signed it?””
My mother looked at me.
And I knew before she spoke.
Because there was only one person left.
One person who had been near every secret.
One person everyone trusted.
“Robert Hayes.””
I felt sick.
“But Robert worked for your family.””
“Yes.””
“He was your attorney.””
“Yes.””
“He helped Daniel.””
“Yes.””
“Then why?””
My mother looked at the ground.
“Because Robert believed the Whitmore family should never belong to you.””
I shook my head.
“Why?””
“Because he believed you weren’t a Whitmore.””
The sentence hung there.
I looked at Michael.
Then my mother.
“What does that mean?””
Nobody answered.
My phone buzzed.
Everyone froze.
I looked down.
A message.
From Robert.
**Ethan, I know what Thomas told you. He’s lying. He always has been.
Meet me if you want the truth about Daniel’s death. Come alone.**
I stared at it.
Then another message arrived.
This one had an attachment.
A photograph.
I opened it.
My hands started shaking.
It was a picture of Daniel.
Taken the night he died.
He was standing outside a building.
Beside him was a person.
A person whose face was partly visible.
But I recognized the clothing.
The watch.
The hands.
Because I had seen them before.
In my own house.
At family dinners.
At holidays.
At every important moment of my life.
I slowly looked up.
“Mom.””
She saw my face.
“What?””
I turned the phone around.
Her eyes landed on the picture.
And all the color left her face.
May you like
Because the person standing beside Daniel in the final photograph…
was her.
