Chapter 7: The Letter My Mother Left Behind
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.
Gero’s voice came through the phone, calm and controlled.
The same voice that had once whispered promises into my hair.
The same voice that had apologized after hurting me.
The same voice that now carried pieces of a truth I had spent my entire life searching for.
“What did you say?””
My father moved closer.
His expression told me he was listening.
Gero gave a quiet laugh.
“You heard me.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“You put the letter there?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
A pause.
Then:
“Because I wanted you to find it when you were ready.””
My stomach twisted.
“Ready for what?””
His voice became softer.
“For the truth.””
I almost laughed.
The word sounded wrong coming from him.
Truth.
A man who built his entire relationship with me on secrets was talking about truth.
“You don’t get to do this.””
Silence.
“You don’t get to hurt me for eighteen months and then pretend you’re giving me answers.””
His breathing changed.
A small sign.
But I noticed.
Because I knew him.
“You still think this is about you being hurt.””
I froze.
“What?””
“This was never about you, Anna.””
The words hit harder than I expected.
Because they sounded exactly like the thing I feared most.
That I was only a piece in someone else’s game.
“You’re right,” I said quietly.
My father looked at me.
“I was a piece.””
Gero didn’t answer.
“You chose me because of my father.””
“No.””
His response was immediate.
That surprised me.
“No?””
“No.””
His voice lowered.
“I chose you because of your mother.””
The room became silent.
My grip tightened.
“What does that mean?””
“You really don’t remember.””
I felt a wave of anger.
“Remember what?””
“The day we met.””
My heart slowed.
The day we met.
I remembered it perfectly.
A coffee shop.
Rain outside.
A stranger who offered me his umbrella.
A conversation that lasted three hours.
At least, that was what I thought.
“You were not supposed to be there that day.””
I frowned.
“What?””
Gero continued.
“I was following someone else.””
A chill moved through me.
“Who?””
“Your father.””
My father’s face changed.
I looked at him.
Gero continued.
“Then I saw you.””
I swallowed.
“And?””
“And I realized something.””
“What?””
His answer was quiet.
“You had your mother’s necklace.””
My hand immediately moved to my throat.
The necklace.
The one that had connected me to my mother.
The one that had been a gift.
The one that was apparently part of a much bigger story.
“You knew about it?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because your mother gave me something before she died.””
My entire body went still.
“What?””
My father stepped forward.
“Anna, put him on speaker.””
I did.
Gero’s voice filled the room.
“My father believed your mother stole something from him.””
“What?””
“A file.””
My father’s face hardened.
“What file?””
Gero laughed softly.
“So you never told her.””
My father said nothing.
“Interesting.””
“Gero,” I said.
My voice cut through them.
“What file?””
A pause.
Then:
“A file proving your father’s innocence.””
I looked at my father.
“What?””
Gero continued.
“My father spent years convincing himself Thomas Brand was responsible for destroying him.””
My father’s jaw tightened.
“But your mother found evidence that proved otherwise.””
“What evidence?””
“That my father had been betrayed by his own partners.””
The room went quiet.
I looked at my father.
“Did you know?””
He looked away.
That was answer enough.
“Papa?””
He closed his eyes.
“I knew there was evidence.””
My chest tightened.
“And you didn’t tell me?””
“I didn’t know where it was.””
Gero interrupted.
“Because your mother hid it.””
My hands shook.
“Where?””
No answer.
“Gero.””
His voice became quieter.
“Your mother trusted me.””
I felt sick.
“No.””
“She knew my father was dangerous.””
“No.””
“She knew someone needed to protect you.””
My father stepped closer.
“Don’t listen to him.””
But Gero continued.
“She knew I wasn’t like him.””
My anger exploded.
“You beat me.””
Silence.
“You hurt me.””
Silence.
“You made me afraid of my own home.””
His voice changed.
For a brief second, something almost like shame appeared.
“I lost control.””
I stared at the phone.
“Lost control?””
My voice shook.
“Fifty times?””
Nobody spoke.
“You counted?””
The question was so quiet that it almost broke me.
I realized then.
He hadn’t.
He had never thought about the number.
He had never thought about what he was doing.
Because to him, my pain had never been the important part.
Only his anger mattered.
“You don’t get to explain this,” I whispered.
Gero was silent.
Then he said:
“You’re right.””
I froze.
I hadn’t expected that.
“I don’t.””
The honesty was unsettling.
“I did something unforgivable.””
My father looked suspicious.
Because he knew.
Gero was always calculating.
“What do you want?”” my father asked.
A pause.
Then Gero answered:
“Anna.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What?””
“I want to talk to her alone.””
“No.””
My father’s response was immediate.
Gero laughed.
“You still think you can protect her from everything.””
My father’s expression hardened.
“Yes.””
Another pause.
Then Gero said:
“You couldn’t protect her from me.””
The words cut deep.
Because they were cruel.
Because part of me knew they hurt my father.
But they also weren’t completely wrong.
My father had hidden things.
Gero had used those secrets.
And I was the one trapped between them.
“I’ll never meet you alone,” I said.
Gero was quiet.
Then:
“Fine.””
I frowned.
That was too easy.
“Fine?””
“Yes.””
Another pause.
“Because I don’t need you alone anymore.””
A chill moved through me.
“What does that mean?””
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Then immediately, it rang again.
Not Gero.
A message.
From the same unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
My heart stopped.
It was a picture of the inside of my father’s house.
The hallway.
Taken minutes ago.
I looked around.
Nobody moved.
“How?””
My father immediately grabbed his phone.
“Everyone check the doors.””
The security officers outside responded instantly.
I stared at the image.
Someone had been inside.
Someone had taken the picture.
Someone close enough to watch us.
Then another message appeared.
*You’re looking for the wrong enemy.*
My breathing stopped.
A second message followed.
*The person who betrayed your mother is still standing beside you.*
Slowly, my eyes moved.
To my father.
Then to Dr. Richter.
Then to the closed door.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Because suddenly, we all understood.
The danger wasn’t outside.
It was already here.
My father’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“Who is it?”” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Papa.””
Slowly, he turned the phone toward me.
The caller name was visible.
A name I knew.
A name that made my blood freeze.
*Viktor Keller.*
My father’s former colleague.
The man from the photograph.
The man who had been standing beside Gero.
My father answered.
“Viktor.””
A voice came through.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Thomas.””
My father stood completely still.
“Where are you?””
A pause.
Then Viktor said:
“I’m calling to tell you something before Gero does.””
My father’s grip tightened around the phone.
“What?””
The answer came softly.
“I was the one who gave Gero your daughter’s name.””
The room went silent.
My father’s face turned pale.
“Why?””
Another pause.
May you like
Then Viktor whispered:
“Because your wife asked me to.””
