Chapter 7: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
The name hung in the air.
"Ethan Cole.""
My father's face had gone completely pale.
Not angry.
Not confused.
Afraid.
I had never seen my father afraid before.
The officer looked between us.
"You know him?""
My father didn't answer immediately.
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
Finally, he whispered:
"I knew of him.""
The officer sat down.
"Then you need to explain.""
My father looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he was going to send me away.
But he didn't.
He took a breath.
"When I met Lily's mother, she had already been through a difficult time.""
He looked at the photograph.
"Ethan was someone from her past.""
"How far in the past?"" the officer asked.
My father hesitated.
"Years.""
I looked at the picture.
The man beside my mother looked young.
Happy.
Nothing like someone who belonged in a dark secret.
"Who was he?"" I asked.
My father looked at me.
"I don't know everything.""
The officer leaned forward.
"But you know something.""
My father nodded slowly.
"Ethan worked with your mother before we met.""
"On the company?"" Daniel asked.
"Yes.""
The room became quiet.
My father continued.
"Your mother told me there were problems with the business. She never told me every detail.""
"Because she was afraid?"" the officer asked.
My father looked down.
"Maybe.""
The officer opened the file.
"Ethan Cole disappeared eleven years ago.""
My father frowned.
"Disappeared?""
"His car was found abandoned near a highway. No body. No explanation.""
I looked at the picture again.
"So everyone thought he was dead?""
The officer nodded.
"Until yesterday.""
My father looked up.
"Where is he now?""
The officer closed the folder.
"He wants to meet.""
My father didn't respond.
"Why?""
"He says he can prove what happened to your wife.""
The words made my stomach twist.
For years, my mother had been a memory.
A voice.
A photograph.
A yellow flower sewn onto a backpack.
Now suddenly, there were pieces of her story appearing everywhere.
And every piece was connected to Tasha.
The meeting was arranged for the following afternoon.
My father didn't want me to come.
Again.
"Lily, this could be difficult.""
I crossed my arms.
"Daddy.""
He sighed.
"I know.""
"No.""
I looked at him.
"You don't.""
His expression softened.
"I know you want answers.""
"I need them.""
That sentence made him quiet.
Because he understood.
I wasn't chasing a mystery.
I was trying to understand the person I lost.
The next day, we met Ethan at a small restaurant outside town.
He arrived early.
When I saw him, I understood why my father looked so shocked.
Ethan was older now.
His hair was gray.
There were lines around his eyes.
But he had the same face from the photograph.
The same eyes that had once known my mother.
He stood when we entered.
"Malcolm.""
My father's expression hardened.
"Ethan.""
They didn't shake hands.
Ethan looked at me.
His face changed.
"Lily.""
I stepped closer to my father.
"How do you know my name?""
He swallowed.
"Because I knew your mother.""
The answer hurt.
But I needed to hear more.
We sat down.
Nobody touched the drinks.
Ethan looked at the table.
"I owe you the truth.""
My father said nothing.
Ethan continued.
"Your mother found out Tasha was stealing from the company.""
My father closed his eyes.
"I know.""
"No.""
Ethan shook his head.
"You know about money.""
He looked at me.
"You don't know what she did after.""
The room felt colder.
"What did she do?""
Ethan took a breath.
"She threatened your mother.""
My father immediately looked up.
"With what?""
"With Lily.""
I felt my father's hand move closer to mine.
Ethan continued.
"Tasha knew your mother would do anything to protect you.""
My father whispered:
"So she used her.""
Ethan nodded.
"Yes.""
I stared at him.
"Why didn't my mom tell Daddy?""
Ethan looked at me sadly.
"She tried.""
My father froze.
"What?""
Ethan reached into his coat.
He pulled out an envelope.
"I was supposed to give this to you.""
My father's hands shook.
"What is it?""
"Your wife wrote it the night she died.""
Nobody moved.
The envelope looked old.
The edges were worn.
But my mother's handwriting was there.
My father's name.
Not mine.
His fingers trembled as he opened it.
He read silently.
Then his eyes filled.
I had seen my father cry only once.
At my mother's funeral.
But this was different.
This was pain mixed with regret.
"What does it say?"" I whispered.
He couldn't answer.
Ethan did.
"She knew she was in danger.""
My father looked at him.
"Why didn't you give me this before?""
Ethan looked away.
"Because I was scared.""
My father stood.
"You let me believe she died in an accident.""
"I was trying to survive.""
The words stunned everyone.
My father stared.
"What does that mean?""
Ethan looked toward the window.
"Tasha made sure anyone who could expose her disappeared.""
The officer leaned forward.
"Mr. Cole, are you saying Tasha caused your disappearance?""
Ethan nodded.
"Yes.""
Silence.
Then my father opened the letter again.
His face changed.
"What?""
I looked at him.
"Daddy?""
He slowly turned the paper around.
At the bottom was one sentence.
One sentence my mother had written.
"If Tasha ever comes near Lily, ask Ethan about the night in the house.""
My heart stopped.
Because that meant my mother knew.
She knew something happened that night.
Something involving Ethan.
Something involving Tasha.
The officer looked at Ethan.
"What happened that night?""
Ethan closed his eyes.
May you like
Then he whispered:
"I wasn't supposed to survive.""
