Chapter 10 - What Was BuriedAmanda sat across from me.
Mom wouldn't look at either of us.
Amanda placed the envelope between us.
"You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"You won't like it."
"Tell me anyway."
She slid a photograph across the table.
My father.
Alive.
Taken six months after his supposed death.
I stared at it.
"No."
"He wasn't dead."
"Then where was he?"
Amanda's expression changed.
"We don't know."
"You're lying."
"He disappeared."
"Because of you?"
"Because of all of us."
I stood.
"You said he died."
"We believed he would."
"That's not an answer."
Amanda opened the envelope.
Inside were hospital records.
A private clinic.
Another state.
A patient under a false name.
Date of admission: three days after my father's funeral.
My hands shook.
"Who is this?"
Amanda looked at me.
"Your father."
"Why would he use a fake name?"
"He wasn't hiding from us."
"Then who?"
"Everyone."
I didn't understand.
Amanda leaned forward.
"Dad discovered that Victor wasn't stealing from the family."
"What?"
"He was using Dad's companies to investigate someone else."
"Who?"
Amanda looked at Mom.
Mom whispered:
"Your father believed the federal government was investigating money laundering connected to his company."
I frowned.
"That makes no sense."
"It does when you see the account numbers."
Amanda pulled out another document.
Rows of transactions.
Foreign accounts.
Shell companies.
Political donations.
My father had stumbled into something much larger.
"But why involve us?"
"He didn't."
"Then why did you steal my identity?"
Amanda's face collapsed.
"Because Victor forced me."
"How?"
"He threatened Mom."
I looked at Mom.
She said nothing.
Amanda continued.
"He told me if I didn't create the company under your name, he'd expose Dad's records."
"So you sacrificed me."
"I thought I'd undo it."
"When?"
"After Thanksgiving."
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course."
Amanda's eyes filled with tears.
"We never expected you to leave."
"You expected me to sign."
"Yes."
"And then?"
Amanda hesitated.
"You would take the company."
"And the debt."
"Yes."
"And you disappear."
"Yes."
I stared at her.
"Why Thanksgiving?"
"Because everyone would be there."
"Why everyone?"
"Because Victor wanted witnesses."
That made no sense.
"Why?"
Amanda leaned closer.
"Because your father planned to come back."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"He contacted Robert."
"He called Robert?"
"Two months ago."
"Is he alive?"
Amanda nodded.
"I think so."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"No."
She reached into her coat.
Pulled out a second photograph.
It showed a man standing beside a lake.
Older.
Grayer.
But unmistakable.
My father.
Alive.
I sat down.
For eight years, I had mourned him.
For eight years, I had believed I knew how the story ended.
But it hadn't ended.
It had been buried.
Amanda whispered:
"Dad is coming to the lodge on Thanksgiving."
The room went silent.
"Why?"
"To expose Victor."
"Then why do you need me?"
"Because the documents he needs are inside that safe."
"The one I opened?"
Amanda nodded.
"You opened it?"
"Yes."
"What did you take?"
"Nothing."
Her face went pale.
"Then someone else did."
We both froze.
The basement safe had been empty of its most important file.
Someone had taken the final document before us.
And whoever had it now possessed everything needed to destroy Victor.
Or me.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
Your father isn't the man you think he is.
May you like
Then another.
And neither is yours.
