Chapter 2: The Photograph Nobody Was Supposed to See
Maya couldn't hear the music anymore.
The rooftop was still filled with conversation, clinking glasses, and the soft splash of pool water against the tiled edge. Sunlight flashed across the champagne buckets and cocktail tables.
Yet all she could see was the photograph.
A four-year-old girl.
Samuel's hand resting protectively on her shoulder.
And a face that looked so much like Maya's that denying it felt impossible.
“Let me see that again,” Maya whispered.
Samuel lowered the phone slightly.
“Not here.””
“Not here?”” Maya repeated.
“You just showed me a picture of myself as a child, told me to ask my mother, and now you don't want to explain?””
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Samuel looked toward Marcus.
The executive had barely moved. His fingers gripped the stem of an untouched champagne glass so tightly that his knuckles had turned pale.
Maya noticed.
“Mr. Marcus, do you know him?””
Marcus swallowed.
“I know Samuel.””
“That's not what I asked.””
Victor suddenly stepped between them, his composure returning in an ugly burst of anger.
“This is ridiculous. The girl has been in an accident, and now we're turning a minor workplace incident into some kind of family reunion.””
Maya spun toward him.
“You pushed me into a swimming pool.””
Victor raised his eyebrows.
“Careful.””
“Everyone saw you!””
“Everyone saw a waitress lose control of her tray.””
“You knocked it out of my hands!””
Victor leaned closer, lowering his voice so the guests nearby would have to strain to hear.
“You're a temporary employee, Maya. Your contract can disappear before the sun sets. I suggest you remember that.””
Samuel moved forward.
“Step away from her.””
Victor looked him up and down.
“Or what? You'll mop me to death?””
A few guests laughed nervously.
Samuel didn't blink.
“No,” he said.
“I'll let you keep talking.””
For the first time, Victor seemed unsure how to respond.
Marcus set his champagne glass on a cocktail table.
“Victor, enough. You need to step away from her immediately.””
Victor turned on him.
“Are you taking the side of a waitress and a janitor over a major donor?””
“I'm taking the side of the truth.””
“And what truth is that?””
Marcus's eyes flicked toward Samuel's phone.
For one brief second, fear crossed his face.
Then he looked away.
Maya caught the movement.
“Why does everyone keep looking at that photograph?””
Neither man answered.
She rose unsteadily, Samuel's gray jacket slipping from one shoulder. Water dripped from the hem of her teal dress onto the sun-warmed tiles.
“Samuel, please,” she said.
“I don't understand. My mother told me almost nothing about my childhood. When I asked about pictures, she said we didn't have many. She said we moved too often.””
Samuel's expression softened.
“What is your mother's name?””
“Denise Carter.””
The name struck him like a physical blow.
His hand tightened around the phone.
Marcus closed his eyes for a moment.
Victor noticed both reactions.
“Denise Carter?”” he repeated.
“Why does that name matter?””
Samuel looked at him sharply.
“Because you have no business asking.””
Victor's face reddened.
“I have every right to know what's happening at an event I'm financing.””
“You're financing a gala,” Marcus said.
“Not owning every person standing in it.””
Victor jabbed a finger toward him.
“You'd better think carefully about your next move. The board trusts me. The sponsors trust me. You think they'll choose you over me because a waitress tells a story?””
Maya flinched as he raised his voice.
Samuel saw it.
Without taking his eyes off Victor, he moved closer to her.
“You don't have to answer him,” he told Maya.
“Not now.””
“But I need answers.””
“I know.””
“Then tell me who you are.””
Samuel looked down at the photograph.
For a moment, his face seemed to age another ten years.
“I knew your mother a long time ago.””
“How long?””
“Long enough to remember you before you could speak in full sentences.””
Maya stared at him.
“You knew me when I was four?””
“Yes.””
“Then why haven't I ever seen you?””
Samuel opened his mouth, but Marcus interrupted.
“Samuel, we need to talk privately.””
Maya turned on the executive.
“No. You don't get to decide that. If you know something about me, you can say it in front of me.””
Marcus looked as though she'd struck him.
“You're right,” he said quietly.
“You deserve answers.””
“Then give me one.””
He glanced toward the crowd. Several guests were openly filming now. A woman in a gold dress whispered to another guest, both watching the confrontation with hungry curiosity.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Not everything should be discussed in front of people who don't care what happens to you afterward.””
Maya looked at the phones pointed in her direction.
Then she looked at Victor, who was already speaking into his own phone.
“Yes,” Victor muttered.
“I want the security footage secured. All of it. Nobody releases anything without my approval.””
Maya felt a chill that had nothing to do with her soaked clothes.
He was trying to control the evidence.
Samuel heard him too.
“Don't touch that footage,” Samuel said.
Victor covered his phone.
“Excuse me?””
“The cameras saw what you did.””
Victor gave him a cold smile.
“Cameras see what they're pointed at. People see what they're told to see.””
He walked toward the nearest security officer and began speaking rapidly, gesturing toward the pool and Maya's abandoned tray.
Marcus watched him go, his jaw rigid.
Maya turned back to Samuel.
“Please. Just tell me one thing. Why did Marcus look like he'd seen a ghost when you made that call?””
Samuel glanced at Marcus.
The executive's expression hardened.
“Because,” Samuel said carefully, “some families spend years pretending a person never existed.””
Maya felt the blood drain from her face.
“Which family?””
Samuel didn't answer.
Instead, he locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket.
A moment later, his phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
Whatever he saw made his face go pale.
Maya stepped closer.
“What is it?””
Samuel looked at her, then at Marcus.
“The person I called,” he said, “just told me something I never expected to hear.””
He turned the phone so Maya could see the incoming message.
May you like
It contained only one sentence.
*DON'T TELL HER WHO HER FATHER IS.*
