Chapter 4: The Father Who Buried the Truth
The call ended.
But Vince's final words remained.
"The person who wanted you gone was our father."
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The station hallway outside the interrogation room was filled with noise.
Officers running.
Phones ringing.
People shouting instructions.
But inside that small room, everything felt frozen.
Our father.
Those two words felt impossible.
Because my father had been dead for seven years.
At least, that was what I believed.
I stared at the phone in my hand.
Detective Hayes noticed my expression.
"What did he say?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Because saying it out loud would make it real.
"My father."
Hayes frowned.
"What about him?"
I looked up.
"He was behind everything."
Rachel's face turned pale.
"No..."
Her reaction told me something.
She knew.
"You knew."
Rachel looked away.
"Ethan..."
"You knew about my father."
She closed her eyes.
"I knew his name."
My voice became colder.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought he was dead."
The room went silent.
I leaned forward.
"What does that mean?"
Rachel looked toward the empty hallway.
Like she was checking if someone else was listening.
Then she spoke quietly.
"Your father wasn't the man everyone thought he was."
I almost smiled.
That sentence was becoming familiar.
Everyone in my life had a hidden side.
My brother.
My therapist.
My doctors.
Now my father.
"His name was Richard Carter."
The name brought back memories.
A man standing in a large office.
A man wearing expensive watches.
A man who rarely smiled.
A man who believed emotions were weaknesses.
Growing up, I thought my father was just cold.
Strict.
Difficult.
But successful.
He built Carter Financial Group from nothing.
At least, that's what everyone believed.
"He had connections with Novacore before you discovered their fraud."
Rachel continued.
"Your father invested in them."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"My father funded Novacore?"
Rachel nodded.
"Not just funded."
She hesitated.
"He helped create the program."
The room became colder.
The company that destroyed my life.
The company that experimented on patients.
The company that manipulated my recovery.
My own father helped build it.
I remembered something from childhood.
A sentence he used to repeat.
"People don't become powerful by being kind, Ethan."
Back then, I thought he was teaching me ambition.
Now I understood.
He was teaching me his philosophy.
Power first.
People second.
"What happened to him?"
Hayes asked.
Rachel looked down.
"Officially?"
"He died in a car accident."
The same phrase.
The same story.
A terrible accident.
Bad luck.
A coincidence.
I laughed quietly.
"Everyone in my family dies in accidents."
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone knew what I meant.
My crash.
My father's death.
Too many convenient tragedies.
Hayes pulled out his notebook.
"We need to find Vince."
I looked at him.
"He called me from prison."
"He escaped?"
"No."
I thought about his voice.
He sounded calm.
Almost like he knew something.
"Maybe he never went there."
Hayes stared at me.
"What?"
I explained.
"The timing doesn't make sense."
"Vince was arrested minutes ago."
"And somehow he already has access to a phone?"
Hayes became serious.
"You think someone helped him?"
"I think someone is still controlling the board."
A dangerous silence followed.
Because everyone understood.
The people we had caught were not the end.
They were pieces.
And someone else was still moving them.
That night, I returned home for the first time after Vince's arrest.
The house looked different.
Not because anything had changed.
Because I had changed.
Three years ago, this place represented safety.
Now every room felt like a crime scene.
Every photograph.
Every piece of furniture.
Every memory.
Everything had a question attached.
I rolled into my father's old office.
Nobody had entered this room since his death.
Vince never liked it.
He always said it was full of useless things.
But I remembered something.
My father never threw anything away.
Especially information.
The room smelled like old paper.
Dust covered the shelves.
I opened drawers.
Nothing.
Files.
Old contracts.
Business documents.
Then I found something strange.
A hidden compartment beneath the desk.
My father loved secrets.
Inside was a small metal box.
No lock.
No label.
Just my name.
ETHAN.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside were three things.
A photograph.
A USB drive.
And a letter.
The photograph was old.
It showed my father standing beside Adrian Vale.
But they were not alone.
A third person stood between them.
Someone I recognized.
My heart stopped.
Vince.
But the picture was taken fifteen years ago.
Before the crash.
Before everything.
Vince was already involved.
The letter was worse.
I opened it.
My father's handwriting appeared.
"Ethan,
If you are reading this, then I failed to protect you."
I froze.
Protect me?
The man who destroyed my life?
The letter continued.
"I made mistakes. Dangerous ones."
"I believed I could control people like Adrian Vale."
"I was wrong."
My breathing became heavier.
"I discovered what Novacore was doing too late."
"I tried to stop them."
"Your brother found out."
My eyes moved faster.
"Vince believed power belonged to those willing to take it."
"He made a deal with Adrian."
I stopped reading.
Vince.
My own brother.
Not just a victim.
Not just someone manipulated.
A willing participant.
The letter continued.
"He will tell you he had no choice."
"He will tell you he was forced."
"Do not believe him."
A tear fell onto the paper.
Not because I missed my father.
Because I realized I never knew him.
The letter ended with one final sentence.
"The person you should fear most is not Adrian Vale."
"Not Vince."
"It's the person who taught them both how to become monsters."
I looked at the signature.
Richard Carter.
Then I noticed something.
A second page hidden behind the letter.
Only three words were written.
No explanation.
No warning.
Just a name.
A name that made my blood turn cold.
Because I knew it.
Everyone knew it.
The most powerful person connected to Novacore.
The person who funded their expansion.
The person who could erase evidence.
The person who could make people disappear.
The name was:
Evelyn Carter.
My mother.
The next morning, Detective Hayes arrived at my house.
He looked exhausted.
"We found Vince."
I looked at him.
"Where?"
He hesitated.
"In the old Carter warehouse."
My father's abandoned property.
"Is he alive?"
Hayes nodded.
"But there's something else."
"What?"
"He wasn't alone."
My heart sank.
"Who was with him?"
Hayes handed me a photograph.
I looked at it.
And immediately recognized the person standing beside my brother.
Rachel gasped.
"No..."
I looked at her.
"You know her?"
Rachel's face lost all color.
"Yes."
"Who is she?"
Rachel whispered:
"She was the person who trained me."
"She was the person who taught me everything about rehabilitation."
I looked back at the photograph.
A woman standing beside Vince.
The same woman whose name was written in my father's hidden letter.
Evelyn Carter.
My mother.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was the date on the photograph.
It was taken yesterday.
After her supposed death.
May you like
My mother was alive.
And she had been watching me the entire time.
