Chapter 3: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
The world stopped making sense the moment he said it.
You were never supposed to find out you had a brother.
I stared at the man standing beneath the grand entrance of the Hawthorne mansion.
My father.
Or someone wearing my father’s face.
The same dark eyes.
The same sharp jaw.
The same small scar near his eyebrow from the accident he told me he got while fixing an old car when I was little.
A scar I used to trace with my finger when I was a child.
A scar I had cried over when I saw him lying in the hospital six years ago.
But the man in front of me was standing.
Breathing.
Smiling.
Alive.
“No,” I whispered.
The word barely left my mouth.
My mother tightened her grip around my hand.
“Amara…”
I pulled away.
“No.””
I looked at Vanessa.
Then at him.
Then back at Vanessa.
“This is some kind of sick joke.””
Nobody laughed.
Nobody moved.
My father slowly walked into the ballroom.
The guests stepped aside as if they could feel something dangerous approaching.
“Hello, daughter.””
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
I felt my stomach twist.
“My father is dead.””
The man tilted his head.
“Is that what they told you?””
The question hit harder than a confession.
Because I suddenly realized something terrifying.
Everyone in this room had been lying to me.
For six years.
Maybe longer.
He stopped a few feet away from me.
“I imagined this moment differently.””
I stared at him.
“You imagined meeting me after pretending to be dead?””
His expression changed slightly.
Not guilt.
Annoyance.
Like I had interrupted his plan.
“I had reasons.””
I laughed.
The sound came out broken.
“Reasons?””
I pointed toward my mother.
“You let me believe she died.””
Then toward Vanessa.
“You let her lock my mother underground.””
Then back at him.
“And you let everyone bury you.””
His eyes hardened.
“You don’t know the full story.””
“Then tell me.””
Silence.
“Tell me why.””
He looked at Vanessa.
For a brief moment, they exchanged a glance.
A conversation without words.
A conversation that told me they had been hiding things together for years.
My mother stepped forward.
“Don’t listen to him.””
My father looked at her.
“Still protecting her?””
My mother’s face went pale.
“You have no right.””
“No right?”” he repeated.
A cold smile appeared.
“After everything I lost?””
My hands curled into fists.
“What did you lose?””
His eyes moved to me.
“You.””
The answer should have hurt.
Maybe it would have if I believed him.
But there was something wrong.
Something in the way he said it.
Like he was trying to convince himself.
“You had six years,” I said quietly.
He looked confused.
“What?””
“You had six years to come back.””
The room went silent.
“You had six years to tell me the truth.””
My voice cracked.
“You had six years while I visited your grave.””
His expression flickered.
Only for a second.
But I saw something.
Shame.
Then it disappeared.
“Things were complicated.””
I stepped closer.
“No.””
My voice grew stronger.
“People say things are complicated when they don’t want to admit they made choices.””
My father studied me.
Almost like he was seeing me for the first time.
“You’ve changed.””
“I had to.””
The words came out instantly.
“Everyone I trusted disappeared.””
My mother looked down.
Vanessa looked away.
My father remained silent.
That silence told me more than words could.
A sudden movement caught my attention.
One of the guests near the staircase quietly lifted his phone.
Recording.
Vanessa noticed.
Her face changed.
“Everyone leave.””
Nobody moved.
“I said leave!””
This time, her voice broke.
The guests finally began moving toward the exit.
But nobody looked away.
Everyone wanted to see the ending of the Hawthorne family’s biggest secret.
When the ballroom doors finally closed, only five people remained.
Me.
My mother.
My father.
Vanessa.
And Daniel.
Daniel stood near the fireplace, looking completely lost.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Everyone looked at him.
“I didn’t know.””
My father frowned.
“You should go, Daniel.””
“No.””
The answer surprised everyone.
Daniel looked at me.
“She deserves answers.””
My father’s expression darkened.
“You have no idea what you’re involving yourself in.””
Daniel shook his head.
“Neither did she.””
Nobody spoke.
Then my mother walked toward the old photograph on the wall.
The one showing Vanessa beside my father three days after she supposedly disappeared.
She removed it from the frame.
Behind it was a small envelope.
My heart stopped.
“You hid this too?”” my mother asked.
Vanessa said nothing.
My mother opened the envelope.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
She read it.
Her face changed.
“What?””
I moved closer.
“What does it say?””
She hesitated.
Then handed it to me.
The handwriting was familiar.
My father’s handwriting.
I recognized it from birthday cards and notes he used to leave beside my breakfast.
The message was short.
If Eleanor finds out about the child, everything falls apart.
My breathing stopped.
A child.
My father stepped forward.
“Give me that.””
I moved back.
“Who is the child?””
Nobody answered.
My eyes moved between them.
“Who?””
My mother looked at me with tears in her eyes.
Then she looked at my father.
“You were going to tell her?””
He said nothing.
That was enough.
I felt cold.
“Tell me.””
My father sighed.
“You have a brother.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“Where is he?””
Silence.
“Where is he?””
My father looked away.
That terrified me.
Because for the first time, he looked afraid.
My mother whispered:
“He was born before you.””
The room became silent.
I stared at her.
“You mean…”
She nodded.
“Your father had another family.””
My chest tightened.
The perfect image I had carried of my father shattered completely.
“No.””
My father stepped forward.
“Amara—”
“Don’t.””
He stopped.
“Don’t say my name like you know me.””
The pain on his face almost looked real.
Almost.
I looked at my mother.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
She swallowed.
“Because your brother was the reason everything happened.””
My eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?””
Before she could answer, Vanessa spoke.
“Your mother is leaving out the worst part.””
Everyone turned toward her.
She stood beside the staircase, looking exhausted.
Not like a villain.
Like someone who had carried a secret too heavy for too long.
My mother’s expression hardened.
“Don’t.””
Vanessa ignored her.
“Your brother wasn’t just a child.””
I felt a chill.
“What was he?””
Vanessa looked directly at me.
“He was the heir your father wanted.””
My father’s jaw tightened.
“Vanessa.””
“No,” she said.
Her voice trembled.
“She deserves the truth.””
She looked at me.
“Your father built this family around one idea.””
“What idea?””
Vanessa glanced toward the portraits covering the walls.
“The Hawthorne name could never be allowed to disappear.””
I waited.
Then she said the words that changed everything.
“When you were born, your father realized you weren’t the child he wanted.””
My heart broke.
My mother immediately stepped forward.
“Don’t listen to her.””
But Vanessa continued.
“He believed the family needed a son.””
I stared at my father.
The man I had spent my whole life admiring.
The man I had defended when people questioned him.
“Is that true?””
He didn’t answer.
That was his answer.
I felt something inside me collapse.
My father finally spoke.
“It wasn’t that simple.””
“Nothing with you ever is.””
He looked hurt.
But I didn’t care.
Not anymore.
My mother reached for me.
“Amara, there’s more.””
I looked at her.
“What more could there possibly be?””
She hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“Your brother is still alive.””
A cold silence filled the room.
I looked at my father.
“Where?””
Nobody responded.
Then Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His face drained of color.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He slowly turned the phone toward us.
There was a message.
One sentence.
One name.
My name.
I know Amara opened the door.
Another message appeared immediately.
Now she needs to know why her brother has been watching her for six years.
I stared at the screen.
My blood ran cold.
Because beneath the message was a photograph.
A photograph taken outside my apartment.
Yesterday.
And standing across the street behind me…
May you like
was a man I had never met.
A man who looked exactly like my father.
