Chapter 3: The Man We Trusted
The word came out so quietly that I almost missed it.
“Uncle.””
I looked at Lily.
My daughter was crying.
Her small hands were wrapped around the stuffed rabbit like it was the only thing keeping her alive.
“Uncle who?”” I asked.
She closed her eyes.
She couldn't say it.
But I already knew.
There was only one person she called Uncle.
My younger brother.
Victor.
The man who stood beside me at my wedding.
The man who helped me build my company.
The man who held Lily after Emma’s funeral and promised he would protect her.
I refused to believe it.
“No,” I whispered.
Ethan watched me carefully.
“You know him.””
I shook my head.
“You’re wrong.””
“Then why did Lily say his name?””
I had no answer.
The next morning, I went to Victor’s office.
I didn't tell him what I knew.
I needed proof.
Victor looked exactly the same as always.
Perfect suit.
Perfect smile.
Perfect confidence.
He opened his arms.
“Richard. What brings you here?””
I studied his face.
The face of someone I had trusted my entire life.
“I need to ask you something.””
“Of course.””
“Where were you the night Emma died?””
His smile disappeared for half a second.
Only half a second.
But I saw it.
“I already told you.””
“I want to hear it again.””
Victor leaned back.
“Why?””
“Because I’m asking.””
Silence filled the room.
Then he laughed softly.
“You’re grieving, Richard.””
I clenched my fists.
“Don’t do that.””
“Do what?””
“Pretend I’m crazy.””
Victor walked toward the window.
“You lost your wife. Your daughter stopped speaking. You’re under pressure.””
He turned.
“You need help.””
I stared at him.
Then I noticed something.
A small scar on his hand.
A scar I remembered.
Because Emma had once mentioned it.
She told me she saw Victor arguing with someone the night before she disappeared.
“What happened to your hand?”” I asked.
He looked down.
“This?””
“Yes.””
“A kitchen accident.””
“When?””
He hesitated.
“Months ago.””
I knew he was lying.
Because the scar wasn't new.
It was the same injury Emma had described.
I left without saying another word.
That evening, Ethan came to my house.
I still didn’t trust him.
But I needed answers.
“Tell me everything,” I said.
He sat across from me.
“My mother worked as Emma’s assistant.””
“Your mother’s name?””
“Sarah.””
I froze.
Sarah.
Emma’s assistant.
The woman who disappeared three days after Emma’s death.
Everyone assumed she ran away.
“What happened to her?””
Ethan looked down.
“She tried to expose Victor.””
The room went silent.
“Where is she now?””
“I don’t know.””
My heart sank.
Ethan continued.
“Your wife knew she was in danger. She wanted to protect Lily.””
“Why didn’t she tell me?””
Ethan looked at me.
“Because she didn’t know who she could trust.””
Those words hurt more than I expected.
Because they meant Emma had been afraid of me too.
That night, I searched through old files.
Business records.
Emails.
Documents Emma left behind.
At 2:13 a.m., I found something hidden in an encrypted folder.
A video.
I clicked play.
Emma appeared on the screen.
Alive.
My breath caught.
She looked exhausted.
Terrified.
But alive.
“Richard,” she whispered.
“If you’re watching this, something happened.””
I couldn't move.
Emma looked directly into the camera.
“Please forgive me.””
Tears filled her eyes.
“I had to disappear.””
My hands shook.
“Victor knows.””
The video glitched.
Emma’s voice became distorted.
Then the final sentence appeared.
“If Lily ever speaks again, it means Ethan found her.””
The screen went black.
I sat there frozen.
Because I finally understood.
Ethan wasn't the threat.
He was the person Emma had trusted.
Then my security alarm went off.
Someone was inside the house.
I grabbed my phone and ran downstairs.
The front door was open.
A figure stood in the hallway.
Holding the old photograph of Emma and Ethan.
The figure stepped into the light.
And smiled.
May you like
“Richard,” Victor said.
“We need to talk.””
