Chapter 2: The Secret Behind the Photograph
My father held the memory card like it was something fragile.
Or dangerous.
Maybe both.
The bright living room suddenly felt smaller.
The expensive furniture. The perfect decorations. The spotless glass tables.
None of it mattered anymore.
Because my mother had left something behind.
And Cassandra knew exactly what it was.
Marcus looked at the label again.
“Cassandra.””
She didn’t answer.
“Maya’s mother wrote this?””
Her lips parted slightly.
“I don’t know.””
The lie came out too fast.
My father noticed.
I noticed.
Even Cassandra noticed.
She looked away.
“Marcus, you’re overreacting.””
He turned toward her.
“Am I?””
“Yes.””
She walked toward him, forcing a calm expression.
“This is ridiculous. A memory card could be anything.””
“Then why are you scared?””
Her face hardened.
“I’m not scared.””
“Then why did you just step back when I picked it up?””
Silence.
I watched them.
For years, I thought my father and Cassandra had the perfect marriage.
They hosted charity dinners.
They smiled for photographs.
They looked like the kind of couple people admired.
But standing there, surrounded by my mother’s broken picture, I finally saw the cracks.
Cassandra looked at me.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?””
I blinked.
“What?””
“You wanted to create a problem.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“You threw out my suitcase.””
“You’ve always been good at making people feel sorry for you.””
My father stepped forward.
“Enough.””
Cassandra looked at him.
“No, Marcus. You need to hear this.””
She pointed at me.
“She has been manipulating you for years.””
My chest tightened.
“Manipulating him?””
“Yes.””
She laughed bitterly.
“Every time she misses her mother, every time she talks about the past, every time she says she doesn’t feel comfortable here, you rush in to protect her.””
My voice became quiet.
“Because I’m his daughter.””
Cassandra stared at me.
“And I’m his wife.””
My father’s jaw tightened.
“That is enough.””
But Cassandra wasn’t finished.
She moved closer to the table.
“You don’t know what your mother was really like.””
The words made me freeze.
My father looked at her.
“Don’t.””
Cassandra stopped.
For a moment, nobody breathed.
Then she smiled.
A small, cruel smile.
“Why? Because she was your perfect memory?””
My hands curled into fists.
“Don’t talk about my mother.””
Cassandra looked at the memory card.
“You have no idea what she left behind.””
My father’s voice dropped.
“What does that mean?””
Cassandra immediately shook her head.
“Nothing.””
“No,” he said.
“You know something.””
She grabbed her purse from the chair.
“I’m done with this conversation.””
She turned toward the hallway.
My father stepped in front of her.
“No.””
She looked surprised.
“Move.””
“Not until you explain.””
“Explain what?””
“This.””
He lifted the memory card.
Cassandra stared at it.
Then at him.
Her eyes became colder.
“You really want to open that door?””
My stomach twisted.
Because it didn’t sound like a threat.
It sounded like a warning.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“What happened before I met you?””
Cassandra’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
I saw it.
A memory.
A secret.
Something she had spent years burying.
“Maya,” my father said softly, “go upstairs.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Maya.””
“I’m tired of being sent away.””
That landed.
My father looked at me.
And I saw regret in his eyes.
Because maybe he realized how many times I had been told to leave the room when adults talked.
How many times my voice had disappeared.
Cassandra sighed.
“You both want answers?””
She walked back into the room.
“Fine.””
My heart started beating faster.
She looked at the memory card.
“Play it.””
My father stared at her.
“What?””
“You heard me.””
She smiled.
“Play it.””
I looked at her.
“You said it was nothing.””
“It is nothing.””
“Then why are you telling him to play it?””
Her smile disappeared.
“Because your mother always loved drama.””
My father’s face changed.
“Don’t insult her.””
Cassandra looked at him.
“You never knew everything about her.””
The words hung in the air.
Then suddenly—
Her phone rang.
The sound cut through the room.
She looked at the screen.
And all the color left her face.
She answered immediately.
“Why are you calling me now?””
My father and I exchanged a look.
Cassandra turned away.
“No. He found it.””
A pause.
Her hand tightened around the phone.
“No, I said he found the card.””
My heart started racing.
Found the card?
Like she knew it existed?
Like she had been waiting for this moment?
Cassandra looked back at us.
Then whispered into the phone:
“We need to stop him before he hears what she recorded.””
My father heard every word.
His face went completely still.
The call ended.
Nobody moved.
May you like
Then Marcus slowly raised the memory card.
“What did your mother record?””
