Chapter 2: The Photograph He Tried to Hide
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The photograph looked old, perhaps three or four years old. Its corners were bent, and a pale crease ran diagonally across the middle. My mother stood beside the black SUV wearing her favorite denim jacket, the one she'd worn until the elbows began to fray.
Selena sat behind the steering wheel.
And Dad stood beside the driver's door with one hand resting on the roof.
He was smiling.
Not the strained smile he used at Mom's funeral when relatives asked how he was holding up.
This was a genuine smile.
The kind he'd worn in the years before our family began falling apart.
“Where did you get that?”” I asked.
Dad slipped the photograph into his jacket pocket.
“It's an old picture.””
“No kidding. Why is Mom standing beside her car?””
“People take pictures together, Ethan.””
“Why is Selena in it?””
His jaw tightened.
“Because she knew your mother.””
Selena looked toward the window.
Outside, rain streaked the glass, blurring the streetlights into long yellow smears.
Maya stood at the bottom of the stairs with Noah beside her. Neither of them had gone upstairs.
“How long?”” Maya asked.
Dad looked at her.
“How long what?””
“How long have you known her?””
He straightened his cuffs.
“That's none of your concern.””
Maya let out a sharp laugh.
“You bring her into Mom's house a month after the funeral, and now we're not allowed to ask how long you've been seeing her?””
“Watch your tone.””
“Answer the question.””
Dad took a step toward her.
I moved between them.
“Don't.””
His eyes narrowed.
“You think you're the man of this house now?””
“No. I think I'm the only person here asking questions you refuse to answer.””
Selena finally turned away from the window.
“Daniel, perhaps we should leave.””
He gave her a cold look.
“You wanted to meet my children. Here they are.””
“That isn't what I meant.””
“Then what did you mean, Selena?””
She swallowed.
For the first time since entering our house, she seemed unsure of herself.
“I meant that perhaps tonight wasn't the right time.””
“You said that already.””
“Because you aren't listening.””
Dad laughed without humor.
“You always have something to say when things don't go your way.””
Her face tightened.
I watched them, trying to understand why their conversation sounded less like a couple arguing and more like two people negotiating the terms of a threat.
Then Selena looked directly at me.
“Your mother and I were friends once.””
The room went still.
Maya took one step forward.
“Friends?””
Selena nodded.
“Years ago.””
“How many years?”” I asked.
“Almost six.””
Noah wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“Mom never mentioned you.””
Selena's eyes softened for a fraction of a second.
“No. I suppose she wouldn't have.””
“Why not?”” Maya demanded.
Selena looked at Dad.
He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
It was a tiny movement.
But I saw it.
So did Maya.
“Why are you looking at him?”” she asked.
“Why does he have to tell you what you're allowed to say?””
Selena pressed her lips together.
Dad walked to the fireplace and picked up the photograph he'd placed on the mantel earlier that evening. He held it over the flames.
“Whatever happened between your mother and Selena is in the past.””
“Then let us see the picture,” I said.
He didn't move.
“Dad.””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because I said so.””
I stepped toward him.
“If there's nothing to hide, show us.””
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
For one terrible moment, I thought he would throw it into the fire.
Instead, he placed it face down on the mantel.
“Everyone upstairs,” he ordered.
“Now.””
Maya grabbed Noah's hand.
This time, I let them go.
But I didn't follow.
Dad waited until their footsteps disappeared before turning to Selena.
“You've made a mess of this.””
She stared at him.
“Me?””
“You knew the children were grieving.””
“You said they knew nothing about the accident.””
“They don't.””
“They have the police report, Daniel.””
“Which proves nothing.””
Her voice rose.
“It proves my name is attached to the vehicle that killed their mother!””
Dad seized her arm.
“Lower your voice.””
She pulled free.
“Don't touch me.””
I stood behind the dining room doorway, barely breathing.
Dad glanced toward the stairs, then toward the front window.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and controlled.
“You agreed to come here because we needed to make this look normal.””
Selena stared at him as though he'd slapped her.
“Normal?””
“You and I are together. The children need time to accept that. Once they do, this becomes easier.””
“Easier for whom?””
“For everyone.””
She shook her head.
“You promised me this was over.””
“It is over.””
“No, Daniel. It isn't. Not while the police still have that file open.””
My stomach twisted.
The police had told us the case was inactive. The lead detective had explained that without new evidence or a witness, there was little more they could do.
But Selena had just said the file was still open.
Dad moved closer to her.
“You will not discuss the case in this house.””
“What about the money?””
My breath caught.
Dad froze.
“What money?””
Selena gave a short, bitter laugh.
“Don't insult me. You know exactly what money.””
He looked toward the stairs again.
“Not here.””
“You told me you'd handle it.””
“I have handled it.””
“Then why did the insurance company contact me last week?””
Dad's face went blank.
I felt the floor tilt beneath me.
The insurance company?
Mom's life insurance had been paid to Dad three weeks after the funeral. He'd told us the paperwork was straightforward. He'd used some of the money to cover funeral expenses and promised the rest would help keep the house.
I'd never questioned him.
Now I wished I had.
Selena folded her arms.
“They want a statement. They want to know why I transferred money to your account the morning after the accident.””
Dad's voice dropped to a whisper.
“Stop talking.””
“I'm tired of stopping.””
“Selena.””
“You told me the money was for the repairs.””
“It was.””
“Then why did the bank describe it as a settlement?””
Dad's face went pale.
I pressed my back against the wall.
A settlement.
Money transferred the morning after Mom died.
A black SUV registered to Selena.
My father standing beside the vehicle in a photograph with my mother.
The pieces didn't fit together yet, but I could feel the shape of something terrible emerging.
Then Dad said the words that made my blood run cold.
“If you tell them what happened that night, you'll destroy both of us.””
Selena stared at him.
“No, Daniel.””
She reached into her handbag and removed her phone.
“You destroyed us when you told me your wife would never find out.””
Dad lunged for the phone.
She stepped away, holding it against her chest.
“Don't.””
“Give it to me.””
“No.””
His face twisted with fury.
“You ungrateful—”
“There's a recording,” she interrupted.
Everything stopped.
Even Dad seemed unable to breathe.
I stepped out from behind the doorway.
“What recording?””
They both turned toward me.
Selena looked terrified.
Dad looked murderous.
“Ethan,” he said slowly, “go upstairs.””
I didn't move.
Selena's hand trembled around her phone.
“Your mother called me that night,” she whispered.
My throat went dry.
“What?””
“She called me from her car.””
Dad took a step toward her.
“Don't.””
Selena's eyes filled with tears.
“She was crying. She said she'd found out what Daniel had done, and she was going to the police.””
Dad's voice cracked like a whip.
“I said stop!””
Noah appeared at the top of the stairs.
Maya stood behind him.
Neither of them moved.
I stared at Selena.
“What did Dad do?””
She looked down at her phone.
Then she played the recording.
Static filled the room.
A car engine hummed beneath the sound of rain.
And then I heard my mother's voice.
“Selena, please. You have to tell me the truth. Did Daniel really—”
The recording ended with a sharp click.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't even recognize the sound coming out of my own mouth when I finally spoke.
“Play the rest.””
Selena shook her head.
“There's more.””
“Then play it!””
She looked at Dad.
He was staring at the phone as though it were a loaded gun.
And when Selena finally pressed the screen again, a man's voice came through the speakers.
A voice I had heard every morning of my life.
May you like
My father's.
“Just make sure she never reaches the police station.””
