Chapter 4 - MY FATHER WAS ALIVE
I stared at the photograph until my eyes hurt.
My father.
Alive.
Standing beside Carmen.
The photograph looked recent.
Not four years old.
Not even one year old.
The date printed in the corner was from six months earlier.
My hands began to shake.
My mother took the photograph from me.
For several seconds she said nothing.
Then she whispered:
“That isn't possible.”
Gabriel stood behind her.
His expression was harder to read.
“Where did Daniel get this?”
“He left it here.”
I pointed toward the broken window.
Gabriel walked over and examined the frame.
“He wanted us to find it.”
“Why?”
“To make you doubt everything.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew my father might be alive.”
Gabriel didn't answer.
“Uncle.”
He looked at me.
“I knew he had been investigating something before he disappeared.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“You deserve the truth.”
“Then tell me.”
He took a breath.
“Your father didn't die.”
My mother's face crumpled.
I felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“He disappeared.”
“But we had a funeral.”
“Yes.”
“The body?”
“Never positively identified.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father ordered me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because someone was watching you.”
“Who?”
“Carmen's family.”
I looked down at the photograph again.
My father stood beside Carmen.
He wasn't smiling.
He looked serious.
Almost angry.
“What were they discussing?”
“We don't know.”
“Then why was he photographed with her?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“That's what we're going to find out.”
The detective took the photograph.
“I'll run facial and location analysis.”
I looked at him.
“How long?”
“Hours.”
“I don't have hours.”
“You've been attacked tonight.”
“I know.”
“You need medical attention.”
“I'll go later.”
My mother immediately protested.
“No. You're going now.”
I looked at her.
She was crying.
“Mom.”
“No.”
She took my hands.
“You almost lost your life tonight.”
I looked at my torn dress.
“I know.”
“And you're carrying this burden alone.”
“I have Gabriel.”
She looked at him.
Then nodded.
“Then he goes with you.”
The hospital examined my injuries.
Nothing was broken.
The baby was safe.
That should have been the only thing I cared about.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the photograph.
My father.
Carmen.
Six months ago.
Alive.
The doctor finished the examination.
“Your baby is doing well.”
I closed my eyes.
Relief washed over me.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
Your father wants to see you.
I stared.
A second message appeared.
Come to the old railway station alone.
I showed Gabriel.
He immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“I have to go.”
“It's a trap.”
“Maybe.”
“Then you don't go.”
I looked at the message.
“If Dad is alive…”
Gabriel interrupted.
“If that's really your father.”
I looked at him.
“You don't believe it?”
“I believe whoever sent that message wants you to believe it.”
He was right.
But something inside me still wanted answers.
We returned to my mother's house.
The detective arrived with his report.
“The photograph is genuine.”
My heart stopped.
He placed the report on the table.
“It was taken in San Francisco.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Can you identify the building?”
“Yes.”
He showed me the photograph.
A luxury office tower.
The logo belonged to a company called Hale Financial.
My father had once mentioned the company.
I looked at Gabriel.
“You know them?”
“Yes.”
“What do they do?”
“They manage private assets.”
“Who owns it?”
Gabriel looked at the detective.
The detective answered.
“Victor Hale.”
My stomach tightened.
“Isn't he dead?”
“Yes.”
“Then how is his company operating?”
The detective paused.
“That is what we're investigating.”
Gabriel took the report.
“Victor Hale died twelve years ago.”
“Then someone is using his identity.”
“Exactly.”
I remembered Daniel's words.
Victor Hale is dead.
The man using his name.
I finally understood.
Someone had created a false identity.
Someone powerful enough to hide behind a dead man's name.
Someone connected to my father.
And possibly Carmen.
My mother walked into the room carrying an old box.
“I found this in your father's things.”
She placed it on the table.
I opened it.
Inside were photographs.
My father.
Carmen.
Daniel.
And another woman.
I recognized her.
Elise.
The woman from the hotel.
She wasn't simply an employee.
She had been close to my father.
There was a photograph of her standing beside him.
On the back:
Trust her only if she tells you about the blue room.
I looked at Gabriel.
“What is the blue room?”
His face changed.
“You shouldn't have that.”
“Why?”
“Because it doesn't exist.”
I stared.
“My father wrote it.”
“Yes.”
“Then it exists.”
Gabriel looked toward the hallway.
“Not here.”
“Where?”
He lowered his voice.
“Your father's apartment.”
My heart began pounding.
The apartment wasn't just an inheritance.
It was a vault.
A place my father had prepared before disappearing.
I suddenly understood why Carmen had tried to force me to sign.
She didn't want the property.
She wanted access.
We returned to the apartment before dawn.
The building was quiet.
Too quiet.
The security guard was gone.
The elevator was already waiting.
We entered.
The doors closed.
Then the lights went out.
My mother screamed.
Gabriel reached for his phone.
A voice came through the elevator speaker.
“Sofia.”
I froze.
My father's voice.
“Dad?”
Silence.
Then:
“You shouldn't have come.”
The elevator began moving.
Down.
Not up.
Below the basement.
Below the parking levels.
The numbers disappeared.
My mother grabbed my hand.
Gabriel tried to stop the elevator.
Nothing worked.
Then the doors opened.
A dark corridor waited outside.
At the end stood a man.
Older.
Silver-haired.
Wearing a dark coat.
I couldn't see his face clearly.
He stepped forward.
I whispered:
“Dad?”
The man stopped.
Then he said:
May you like
“Not yet.”
And the lights went out again.
