Chapter 3: The Man Who Buried the Truth
Damon stared at the photograph until his eyes burned.
He knew that face.
He had seen it thousands of times.
At business meetings.
At family gatherings.
At Emma’s funeral.
The man in the photograph was the person Damon trusted most after losing his wife.
His best friend.
His business partner.
The man who had stood beside him when Damon could barely stand on his own.
Ethan Cross.
For five years, Damon had believed Ethan was the only person who understood his pain.
The only person who stayed.
The only person who never gave up on him.
But now Emma’s handwriting was telling him something impossible.
He knows why I disappeared, Damon.
Damon turned the photograph over again.
His fingers tightened around the edges.
“Ethan…”
The name left his mouth like a warning.
Victoria watched him carefully.
And for the first time that night, Damon noticed something strange.
She wasn’t shocked.
She wasn’t confused.
She looked terrified.
“You know him,” Damon said.
Victoria didn’t answer.
“Victoria.””
Her eyes moved toward the door.
A small movement.
Almost invisible.
But Damon saw it.
“You knew.””
“No.””
“You recognized him.””
“I said no.””
Her voice was too fast.
Too defensive.
Damon stepped closer.
“Why would Emma write his name?””
Victoria swallowed.
“I don’t know.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because it’s true.””
Damon laughed once.
But there was no humor in it.
“Five minutes ago, you told me the ring was yours. Then I proved it belonged to Emma. You told me this girl was confused.
Then she knew things only Emma could have told her. Now there’s a picture of Ethan with a message from my wife, and you still expect me to believe you know nothing?””
Victoria’s face hardened.
“You’re angry.””
“Yes.””
“You’re hurt.””
“Yes.””
“And because of that, you’re looking for someone to blame.””
Damon stared at her.
“No.””
He held up the photograph.
“I’m looking for the person who made me bury my wife.””
The words hung in the room.
Lily stood quietly beside him, holding her stuffed rabbit.
She looked toward the hallway.
“Daddy?””
Damon immediately softened.
“What is it?””
“Can we find Mommy now?””
The question nearly broke him.
He knelt beside her.
“We will.””
Lily searched his face.
“Promise?””
Damon placed a hand over his heart.
“I promise.””
She nodded.
“Mommy said you always keep your promises.””
Damon looked away.
Because that was something only Emma would know.
Before every important decision, she used to tell him the same thing.
Damon Whitmore never breaks his word.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Then he stood.
“Where is Ethan?””
Victoria looked nervous.
“He’s not here.””
“Where is he?””
“I don’t know.””
Damon reached for his phone.
“Then I’ll call him.””
Victoria suddenly stepped forward.
“Don’t.””
The urgency in her voice stopped him.
Slowly, Damon lowered the phone.
“Why?””
Victoria opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Damon’s expression changed.
“You’re afraid of what he’ll say.””
“No.””
“You’re afraid he’ll tell me the truth.””
Victoria looked away.
And that was enough.
Damon called.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a familiar voice answered.
“Damon?””
The sound of Ethan’s voice made Damon’s stomach twist.
It was the same voice that had comforted him at Emma’s funeral.
The same voice that had said, I’m here for you, brother.
Damon looked at the photograph.
“Ethan.””
A pause.
“What’s wrong?””
Damon looked at Victoria.
Then at Lily.
Then at the ring sitting on the table.
“Where are you?””
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“I’m at home.””
“Are you alone?””
Silence.
Damon’s grip tightened.
“Ethan.””
“What happened?””
Damon looked at the little girl beside him.
“My daughter is standing in front of me.””
The line went completely quiet.
A terrible silence.
Damon’s heart started racing.
Because Ethan’s first reaction wasn’t confusion.
It wasn’t disbelief.
It was fear.
“Damon…”
The way Ethan said his name made everything inside him go cold.
“You know something.””
“No.””
“You know.””
“Damon, listen to me—”
“No.””
Damon’s voice shook.
“You listen to me.””
He looked at Lily.
“She has Emma’s ring.””
Silence.
“She has a letter.””
Silence.
“She has a photograph of you.””
The silence became unbearable.
Then Ethan whispered:
“Where did she get that?””
Damon closed his eyes.
There it was.
The answer he didn’t want.
“You knew.””
“Damon—”
“You knew.””
Ethan didn’t deny it.
That hurt more than any confession.
Damon ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Victoria spoke.
“You don’t understand.””
Damon looked at her.
“Explain.””
She hesitated.
“Ethan was trying to protect you.””
The sentence made Damon laugh bitterly.
“Protect me?””
“Yes.””
“By hiding my wife?””
Victoria looked desperate.
“You don’t know what happened.””
“Then tell me.””
She looked toward Lily.
Then away.
“I can’t.””
Damon stepped closer.
“Why?””
“Because if I tell you, everything changes.””
Damon’s voice became quiet.
“Everything already changed.””
The lights above them flickered slightly.
Outside, thunder rolled in the distance.
The perfect engagement dinner had become a nightmare.
A nightmare that had started five years ago.
Damon picked up his coat.
“Lily and I are leaving.””
Victoria looked alarmed.
“Where?””
“To find Emma.””
“You don’t even know where she is.””
Damon stopped.
Then looked at her.
“No.””
His eyes hardened.
“But you do.””
Victoria’s face went pale.
“I don’t.””
“Then why did you say that?””
She froze.
Damon watched her carefully.
“You said ‘she should have stayed hidden.’”
Victoria looked trapped.
“I was talking about the situation.””
“No.””
Damon shook his head.
“You were talking about Emma.””
The room became silent.
Then suddenly—
A loud crash came from upstairs.
Everyone turned.
Lily grabbed Damon’s hand.
“What was that?””
Damon looked toward the staircase.
The mansion had security everywhere.
Nobody should have been inside.
Victoria looked frightened.
Not confused.
Frightened.
Damon noticed.
“Who is here?””
“Nobody,” she said immediately.
Too quickly.
Damon started walking toward the stairs.
Victoria grabbed his arm.
“Damon, don’t.””
He looked down at her hand.
Then slowly pulled away.
“Five years ago, someone took my wife away from me.””
His voice was low.
“I spent five years believing she was dead.””
He looked toward the second floor.
“I’m done being afraid of the truth.””
Damon climbed the stairs.
Lily followed closely beside him.
The hallway above was dark.
The expensive paintings on the walls stared back at them.
Every step echoed.
Then they reached the end of the hallway.
A door was slightly open.
Damon stopped.
Because he knew this room.
Emma’s old office.
Nobody had entered it since the day she died.
Not even him.
He pushed the door open.
The room smelled exactly the same.
Her books.
Her perfume.
Her old wooden desk.
Everything frozen in time.
But something was different.
On the desk sat a brand-new envelope.
Damon walked closer.
His name was written on it.
Not printed.
Handwritten.
By Emma.
His hands trembled as he picked it up.
Lily stood beside him.
“Is that from Mommy?””
Damon nodded slowly.
But before he opened it, he noticed something else.
A small red stain covered the corner of the envelope.
Not ink.
Something darker.
His heart pounded.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
Damon looked at the screen.
And the words made his blood run cold.
*“If you’re reading Emma’s second letter, it means you already found Lily.””*
A second message arrived.
*“But you’re too late.””*
Damon’s breathing stopped.
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Then the final message appeared.
*“Because Emma just found out you know the truth.””*
