Chapter 11: The Man Who Should Have Been Gone
Nobody moved.
The voice outside came again.
“Jessica, open the door.””
My mother grabbed my arm.
“No.””
The fear in her voice was different.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Pure terror.
“Mom?””
She shook her head.
“Don’t open it.””
Ryan moved toward the window.
He looked outside.
Then immediately stepped back.
“What?””
I looked at him.
“What did you see?””
His face had gone pale.
“Nothing.””
That answer made no sense.
“You’re lying.””
“I know.””
The voice outside became louder.
“Linda.””
My mother closed her eyes.
Hearing her name seemed to break something inside her.
“Mom,” I whispered.
She finally spoke.
“Your father’s business partner.””
I stared.
“What?””
Ryan looked at her.
“You never told her?””
My mother shook her head.
“He was supposed to be gone.””
“Who?”” I demanded.
She looked at me.
“Thomas.””
The name meant nothing.
Until it did.
I remembered a man from my childhood.
A tall man who used to visit our house.
A man my father called his oldest friend.
A man who disappeared after my father died.
“He’s dead,” David said quietly.
My uncle’s voice sounded strange.
Like he was trying to convince himself.
The knocking stopped.
Then the front door opened.
Nobody touched it.
It just opened.
A man stepped inside.
Older than I remembered.
Gray hair.
A scar near his eyebrow.
But the same eyes.
The same confident smile.
“Hello, Linda.””
My mother looked like she had seen a ghost.
“Thomas.””
I stared.
“You’re alive.””
He looked at me.
“Yes.””
“How?””
He smiled sadly.
“That’s a complicated story.””
I laughed.
“Everyone loves that phrase.””
Thomas ignored me.
His eyes moved to Ryan.
“You failed.””
Ryan stepped forward.
“You lied to everyone.””
Thomas smiled.
“And you believed you were the hero.””
The tension between them was immediate.
I looked at David.
“You knew about him.””
David didn’t answer.
That was enough.
“How many people have been lying to me?””
Nobody spoke.
Thomas looked at me.
“Your father wanted you away from all of this.””
I narrowed my eyes.
“Then why are you here?””
“Because your father made one mistake.””
“What mistake?””
“He thought hiding the truth would protect you.””
Thomas walked toward the table.
He picked up the contract.
“You’re asking the wrong questions.””
I was tired of hearing that.
“What question should I ask?””
He looked directly at me.
“Why did your father leave everything to you?””
I frowned.
“Because I’m his daughter.””
“No.””
The answer came quickly.
“Because you were the only person he trusted.””
My mother whispered:
“Thomas, stop.””
He looked at her.
“You had years to tell her.””
“I was protecting her.””
“No.””
His voice hardened.
“You were protecting yourself.””
The accusation hung in the air.
I looked at my mother.
Then at Thomas.
“Why does everyone keep saying she’s involved?””
Thomas didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small black notebook.
My father’s notebook.
I recognized it instantly.
He carried it everywhere.
“No.””
My voice dropped.
“That was Dad’s.””
Thomas placed it on the table.
“Your father wrote down everything.””
Ryan stared at it.
“How did you get that?””
Thomas smiled.
“Your father gave it to me.””
Everyone froze.
“That’s impossible,” David said.
Thomas looked at him.
“Is it?””
He opened the notebook.
Flipped through several pages.
Then stopped.
“This is the page your father wanted Jessica to see.””
He turned the notebook around.
I looked down.
A sentence written in my father’s handwriting filled the page.
*The person who destroys my family will not be my enemy. It will be the person Jessica loves most.*
My heart sank.
I looked at the people around me.
My mother.
Ryan.
David.
Thomas.
Everyone had reasons.
Everyone had secrets.
Then Thomas spoke.
“And Jessica…”
I looked up.
“Your father wasn’t writing about someone else.””
May you like
He pointed at the sentence.
“He was writing about you.””
