I couldn't move.
My father stood in the doorway.
For six years, I had imagined his final moments so many times that they had become part of my memory. I had pictured the hospital room, the machines, the silence afterward.
Now he was standing three meters away.
Alive.
His hair was almost completely gray.
There was a scar along his jaw.
He looked older than the man in my memories.
But his eyes were unmistakable.
"Is that the tape?"
That was the first thing he said.
Not my name.
Not an apology.
The tape.
I held it against my chest.
"You're alive."
He nodded.
"Yes."
"You let me believe you were dead."
"I had to."
"For six years?"
"Yes."
My voice shook.
"My mother died believing you were dead."
His face tightened.
"I know."
"You knew she was dying?"
"I knew she was ill."
"And you didn't come back?"
"If I had, everyone around you would have been in danger."
I laughed once, without humor.
"Everyone was already in danger."
Daniel stepped forward.
"Thomas."
My father looked at him.
"You failed her."
Daniel didn't defend himself.
"I know."
My father looked back at me.
"Did you listen to the tape?"
"Some of it."
His expression changed.
"What did you hear?"
I realized then that he wasn't asking whether I was safe.
He was checking what I knew.
I understood the difference.
"You told me there was someone you trusted."
He nodded.
"You told me Jonah was alive."
Another nod.
"You told my mother Jonah wasn't the danger."
His eyes shifted toward Ruth.
"She told you."
"Yes."
My father looked exhausted.
"Then we have very little time."
I stepped closer.
"Where is Jonah?"
He hesitated.
"Safe."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer I can give you until we know who followed you."
Marcus closed the door.
"We weren't followed."
My father looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
Marcus nodded.
Thomas's expression remained skeptical.
Then he noticed the photograph in my hand.
His face changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"My mother left it."
He took the photograph carefully.
For several seconds he stared at Jonah's face.
I watched tears gather in his eyes.
He wiped them away before they fell.
"I thought I'd never see this."
"You saw him."
"Not recently."
"Then where is he?"
"With someone I trust."
"Who?"
Thomas looked at Daniel.
Daniel said nothing.
My father sighed.
"The fewer people who know, the safer he is."
I felt anger rising again.
"You've spent my entire life deciding what I was allowed to know."
"I was trying to keep you alive."
"You don't get to use that sentence forever."
He accepted the words without arguing.
"You're right."
That answer surprised me.
I expected another explanation.
Instead, he looked at the cassette.
"The tape contains something important."
"What?"
"The missing minute."
I frowned.
"The recording cut out."
"Not accidentally."
He took the cassette.
"There is another recording hidden inside the casing."
He removed the plastic cover with a small screwdriver from the desk.
Behind the label was a thin strip of magnetic tape.
I stared.
"What is that?"
"The part I couldn't trust anyone with."
He inserted it into a second recorder.
The machine clicked.
Static.
Then voices.
My father's.
And another man's.
I recognized the second voice.
Daniel's.
But this recording was from years earlier.
Daniel said, "If she finds out, she'll go looking for him."
My father answered, "That's why she can't know."
Daniel's voice cracked.
"She's your daughter."
"I know."
"And Jonah?"
A long pause.
Then my father said:
"Jonah is not my biological son."
I stopped breathing.
Nobody moved.
The recording continued.
Daniel whispered, "Elena knows."
"She does."
"Then why did you put both names on the records?"
"Because the truth would expose the arrangement."
I looked at the photograph.
The birthmark.
The memories.
The missing childhood.
Nothing made sense.
I turned to Thomas.
"What does that mean?"
He looked at me.
"It means Jonah was adopted."
"By you?"
"By Elena and me."
"Then why did you hide him?"
"Because his biological father was one of the people behind the property scheme."
I felt cold.
"Who?"
Thomas didn't answer.
Daniel did.
"Marcus."
I turned.
Marcus stood perfectly still.
Ruth gasped.
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
Thomas stared at him.
"You know it's true."
"I never knew."
"Your brother knew."
Marcus's face changed.
"My brother?"
Thomas nodded.
"Edward Vale."
Ruth covered her mouth.
"Edward died years ago."
"He didn't die in the accident," Thomas said.
Marcus stepped backward.
"What are you saying?"
"Edward was the person who arranged the meeting."
Silence.
The pieces began falling into place.
The stranger.
The missing records.
Jonah.
The property scheme.
My father's disappearance.
Marcus's connection.
Then Thomas looked directly at me.
"There is one more thing you need to know."
I waited.
He lowered his voice.
"Jonah has been searching for you."
My heart stopped.
"How long?"
"Since he learned the truth."
"Does he know I'm alive?"
Thomas nodded.
"He does now."
A phone began ringing.
Everyone froze.
It wasn't mine.
It was Thomas's.
He looked at the screen.
His face went pale.
"Who is it?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
The ringing stopped.
A message appeared.
Thomas read it.
Then he handed me the phone.
There was only one sentence.
*I know she has the tape.**
Beneath it was a photograph taken minutes earlier.
It showed the hospital records room.
All of us were visible through the glass.
And standing behind me in the reflection was a young man I had never met.
A young man with my face.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: The Face in the Photograph Was Mine, but the Man Standing Behind Me Knew a Secret I Had Never Been Told
The Night I Pretended to Sleep While My Uncle Whispered a Name I Had Never Heard Before
Part 8 of 20
