CHAPTER 4: The Secret Buried in Blood
The gunshot echoed across the rice fields.
BANG!
Birds exploded from the trees.
Ethan instinctively threw himself over his mother as another bullet slammed into the trunk of the old mango tree.
Wood splintered into the air.
"Get inside!" he shouted.
His father grabbed the steel box while Aunt Rosa stumbled toward the back door.
The two construction workers pulled the elderly couple into the house just as a third shot shattered a kitchen window.
Glass rained across the floor.
Silence followed.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Only the distant hum of an engine.
Whoever had fired wasn't trying to kill them.
Not yet.
They were sending a message.
Stop digging.
One of the workers crawled toward the broken window and carefully peeked outside.
"I can't see anyone."
Ethan slowly looked through another crack in the wall.
Far across the field, nearly half a kilometer away, a black pickup truck was disappearing behind a line of coconut trees.
"They're leaving," the worker whispered.
"No," Ethan replied quietly.
"They're making sure we stay scared."
Inside the house, everyone gathered around the battered dining table.
The steel box sat in the center.
The letter from Ethan's grandfather remained open.
Nobody spoke for nearly a minute.
Finally, Ethan broke the silence.
"What did Grandpa mean?"
His father lowered his eyes.
"I... don't know."
"You never suspected anything?"
His mother hesitated before answering.
"There were always rumors."
"What rumors?"
"That Miguel looked nothing like anyone in our family."
Ethan frowned.
She continued.
"People in the village whispered after he was born."
"They said he had different eyes."
"A different bloodline."
"But your grandfather became furious whenever anyone mentioned it."
"He forbade us from discussing it again."
Ethan unfolded the second page of the letter.
The handwriting grew shakier.
I discovered the truth twenty-seven years ago.
Your grandmother begged me to protect the family.
She feared the scandal would destroy everyone.
I agreed...
but I also prepared evidence.
If Miguel ever chose greed over family...
reveal everything.
There was no explanation.
No names.
Only another line.
The proof is hidden where the bell never rings.
"The bell never rings?" Ethan muttered.
"What does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
Aunt Rosa suddenly gasped.
"The old church."
Everyone turned toward her.
"What church?"
"The abandoned chapel on the hill."
She leaned closer.
"It had a bell tower."
"But the bell was stolen decades ago."
"No one ever replaced it."
Ethan's father slowly nodded.
"Your grandfather helped build that chapel."
"He spent weeks repairing it before he died."
Ethan folded the letter.
"Then that's where we're going."
His mother immediately grabbed his arm.
"Not tonight."
"He'll expect that."
Before anyone could continue, headlights appeared outside again.
Everyone froze.
Another vehicle.
This time...
A police patrol.
Two officers stepped out.
Relief washed over the room.
Finally.
Help.
The older officer knocked gently.
"Police."
"We received reports of gunfire."
Ethan opened the door.
"Thank God."
The officers entered and listened as everyone explained what had happened.
The younger policeman wrote notes while the older one examined the bullet holes.
"Do you know who attacked you?"
Ethan answered without hesitation.
"My brother."
The officers exchanged a strange glance.
Almost too quickly to notice.
Ethan caught it.
Something felt wrong.
The older officer cleared his throat.
"Mr. Santos..."
"We actually spoke with your brother before coming here."
Ethan stiffened.
"What?"
"He reported that armed strangers were threatening your elderly parents."
"He said you might arrive pretending to help."
The room fell silent.
The officer looked directly at Ethan.
"He claimed..."
"...you were trying to force your parents to sign over their land."
Shock spread across every face.
Even Aunt Rosa looked speechless.
Ethan laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was unbelievable.
"He's accusing me?"
The officer didn't answer.
Instead, he quietly asked,
"Can you prove these transfers you mentioned?"
Ethan immediately opened his banking app.
Every payment.
Every receipt.
Twelve years.
Millions of pesos.
The younger officer stared at the screen.
His eyes widened.
"This..."
"...this changes everything."
As the officers photographed the documents from the steel box, Ethan noticed something odd.
The older policeman kept glancing toward the window.
Almost nervously.
Then his radio crackled.
Static.
A voice.
"...Unit Seven... return immediately..."
The officer switched it off far too quickly.
His hands trembled.
Ethan watched carefully.
"Is something wrong?"
The officer forced a smile.
"No."
But Ethan had spent years negotiating contracts.
He knew when someone was lying.
Ten minutes later, the police prepared to leave.
The younger officer quietly slipped something into Ethan's hand during a handshake.
A folded piece of paper.
He whispered so softly that nobody else heard.
"Don't trust my partner."
Then he walked away.
The patrol car disappeared into the darkness.
Ethan immediately unfolded the paper.
Only one sentence was written.
Someone inside the provincial police is working for Miguel. Run before midnight.
A chill swept through the room.
If the police couldn't be trusted...
Who could?
Before anyone spoke, a phone began ringing.
Not Ethan's.
His father's.
An ancient flip phone buried inside a kitchen drawer.
His father looked confused.
"Nobody has this number."
He answered cautiously.
"...Hello?"
Silence.
Then...
A distorted voice.
"I warned your son."
A pause.
"You should have listened."
The call ended.
Seconds later...
Every light in the house went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Outside...
Several engines started simultaneously.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The sound surrounded the house from every direction.
Ethan looked through the darkness toward the road.
Dozens of headlights flickered on at once.
They weren't surrounded by one SUV anymore.
They were surrounded by an entire convoy.
And somewhere beyond those lights...
May you like
Miguel was finally coming home.
End of Chapter 4
