Chapter 3: The Secret My Father Took to His Grave
I stared at the message until the words blurred.
*"Emily, if you are reading this, Ryan hasn't told you the truth about what happened the night your father died.""*
My thumb hovered over the screen.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
The bedroom around me disappeared.
The expensive furniture.
The broken picture frame.
Vanessa standing across from me.
Ryan watching my every reaction.
None of it mattered.
Because there was one thing in this world that could still break through all the anger I felt.
My father.
I swallowed hard.
"Who is this?""
I typed the words with shaking fingers.
The message showed as delivered.
Then nothing.
One second.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Ryan stepped closer.
"Emily.""
I looked up.
His face had changed.
The confidence was gone.
The excuses were gone.
He looked terrified.
"Who texted you?""
I didn't answer.
That was enough.
His expression dropped.
"Emily, give me the phone.""
I pulled it against my chest.
"No.""
"Please.""
"No.""
My voice was quiet.
But firm.
"You know who this is.""
Ryan froze.
Vanessa looked between us.
"What is she talking about?""
I looked at Ryan.
"Yeah.""
My eyes narrowed.
"Tell her.""
He didn't say anything.
"Tell her what happened the night my father died.""
The room became silent.
A silence so heavy it felt like the walls were closing in.
Vanessa's confident expression disappeared.
"Ryan?""
He looked at her.
Then back at me.
"Emily, this isn't the time.""
I almost laughed.
"Not the time?""
I stepped closer.
"My husband is cheating on me, hiding money problems, trying to put my house at risk, and now I find out he knows something about my father's death that I don't?""
My voice cracked.
"Tell me when exactly is the right time.""
Ryan looked down.
That was the second time that night he couldn't look me in the eyes.
And somehow, that hurt more than the affair.
Because a lie between strangers was expected.
A lie from the person who promised to protect you?
That destroyed something deeper.
"Ryan.""
My voice softened.
Not because I forgave him.
Because I needed answers.
"What happened?""
He stayed quiet.
Then Vanessa spoke.
"Maybe she deserves the truth.""
Ryan snapped his head toward her.
"Don't.""
But Vanessa didn't look away.
"You can't keep protecting everyone from the consequences of your choices.""
I looked at her.
"What does that mean?""
She sighed.
"Ryan never told you because he was scared.""
"Scared of what?""
She looked at me.
"That you would see him differently.""
A cold feeling moved through my chest.
I looked at Ryan.
"Is she telling the truth?""
He didn't answer.
And somehow, that was enough.
I walked past him.
I needed air.
I needed space.
I walked downstairs, still holding the phone.
My legs felt weak.
The house looked different now.
Every corner carried a memory.
The kitchen island where my father used to sit every Sunday morning.
The chair by the window where he drank coffee and read the newspaper.
The same house where Ryan proposed to me.
The same house where my father hugged Ryan and said:
"Take care of my daughter.""
That memory hit me so hard I had to grip the counter.
Because my father trusted him.
I trusted him.
And maybe we were both wrong.
Ryan followed me downstairs.
"Emily.""
I didn't turn around.
"Stay away from me.""
"Please let me explain.""
I laughed bitterly.
"That's your favorite sentence tonight.""
He stopped.
I wiped my eyes.
Not tears.
I refused to cry in front of him.
Not anymore.
"Explain.""
Ryan took a deep breath.
"Your dad...""
He paused.
I turned around.
"What about my dad?""
His face tightened.
"The night he died wasn't just an accident.""
The words hit me like a punch.
I stared at him.
"What?""
Vanessa slowly walked down the stairs behind him.
Even she looked uncomfortable now.
Ryan continued.
"Your father was supposed to meet me that night.""
I felt the room tilt.
"Why?""
He swallowed.
"Because he found out about something.""
"What?""
Ryan looked at the floor.
"About my company.""
I frowned.
"What does my father's death have to do with your company?""
He hesitated.
Too long.
That hesitation told me everything.
"You knew my father because of business?""
Ryan shook his head.
"No. Not exactly.""
"Then what?""
He rubbed his hands together nervously.
"I made a mistake.""
I stared at him.
"Everyone keeps saying that tonight.""
His eyes filled with regret.
"Emily...""
"No.""
I pointed at him.
"You don't get to say my name like that.""
He went quiet.
"Start talking.""
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't.
Then he sat down at the kitchen table.
The same table where my father carved pumpkins with us every Halloween.
"I was twenty-eight when I met your dad.""
I crossed my arms.
"He helped me get my first major contract.""
I frowned.
"My dad?""
Ryan nodded.
"Your father believed in me.""
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Because that sounded like my dad.
He always saw potential in people.
Even when they didn't deserve it.
"He introduced me to investors," Ryan continued.
"He opened doors for me.""
"And?""
Ryan looked at me.
"And I made a deal I shouldn't have made.""
The rain outside grew louder.
"What kind of deal?""
He hesitated.
"A deal with people who weren't honest.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who?""
He looked away.
"I can't.""
I slammed my hand on the counter.
"Can't?""
My voice rose.
"My father is dead, Ryan.""
The words echoed.
"He died six years ago.""
My eyes burned.
"And you are standing here telling me there are things you know about that night that you never told me?""
Ryan closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"Sorry is what you say when you forget an anniversary.""
I stepped closer.
"Sorry is what you say when you break a plate.""
My voice dropped.
"This is my father.""
Ryan looked like he was about to cry.
"I know.""
"No, you don't.""
I pointed at him.
"You don't know what it feels like to lose someone and then find out years later that the person beside you knew more than they ever admitted.""
The back door suddenly opened.
All three of us turned.
A figure stood in the doorway.
My heart stopped.
Because I recognized that face.
Older.
Tired.
Different.
But impossible.
Ryan stood immediately.
His face turned white.
"No.""
The man looked at me.
"Emily.""
My fingers loosened around my phone.
The man took one step inside.
"I know you have questions.""
I couldn't speak.
Because I knew that voice.
I had heard it in old recordings.
In my father's videos.
In the memories I replayed when I missed him.
Ryan whispered:
"This isn't possible.""
The man looked at him.
"You should have told her years ago.""
My heartbeat thundered.
I looked between them.
"Who are you?""
The man stared at me.
Then slowly said:
"I'm the reason your father never made it to that meeting.""
My entire body went cold.
And then he said the name I hadn't heard in six years.
May you like
"My name is Daniel Parker.""
My father's name.
