Chapter 5: The Voice Behind the Lies
“Your daughter should have never made it to you.””
My father’s voice traveled through the phone like a blade.
Cold.
Controlled.
Familiar.
For five years, that voice had been the one I trusted most.
Now it was the voice that made my entire body go still.
I stared at Lily’s empty bed.
The open window.
The note.
*She knows everything.*
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What did you do?””
The question came out quietly.
But everyone in the room heard it.
Victoria stopped behind me.
James looked from me to the phone.
No one needed to ask who was calling.
They knew.
Charles Whitmore.
My father.
The man whose name was written all over my childhood.
The man whose approval I had spent my entire life chasing.
“Damon,” he said calmly.
“I asked you a question.””
A pause.
Then a sigh.
The same disappointed sigh he used whenever I was a child and made a mistake.
“You don’t understand what you’ve walked into.””
My jaw tightened.
“No. I understand perfectly.””
“You don’t.””
“You took my daughter.””
Silence.
That silence told me more than words ever could.
My father did not ask who Lily was.
He did not deny it.
He already knew.
My heart sank.
“How long?””
“What?””
“How long have you known about her?””
Another pause.
“Damon—”
“How long?””
His voice became quieter.
“Since before she was born.””
The room disappeared.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Before she was born.
My father knew.
He knew I had a child.
He knew Emma was alive.
He knew everything.
And he let me mourn a woman who was still breathing.
“You knew.””
“Yes.””
The honesty shocked me.
“You knew and you let me believe my wife died.””
“I protected you.””
I almost laughed.
Protected me.
Everyone who betrayed me used those words.
Victoria.
My father.
Everyone.
“You call this protection?””
“Yes.””
My hands trembled.
“You stole five years from me.””
“No.””
His voice hardened.
“Emma stole those years from you.””
I froze.
“What did you say?””
“She made a choice.””
“Don’t talk about her like that.””
“Damon, you have no idea what she did.””
My anger burned hotter.
“My wife was afraid of you.””
“She was afraid because she knew the truth.””
“What truth?””
Silence.
Then my father said something that made my blood run cold.
“The truth about who she really was.””
I stared at the phone.
“What does that mean?””
“You need to stop searching.””
“No.””
“Damon.””
“No.””
My voice echoed through the bedroom.
“You took my daughter. You destroyed my marriage. You lied to me for five years.””
I looked at Lily’s empty bed.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.””
My father’s voice changed.
Not angry.
Worried.
“Listen carefully.””
I said nothing.
“Bring Lily back to where she belongs.””
My stomach twisted.
“Where she belongs?””
“Yes.””
“She belongs with her father.””
Another pause.
Then:
“You are not her only parent.””
The words hit me.
I gripped the phone tighter.
“What does that mean?””
But the call ended.
I stood there staring at the screen.
The line was dead.
For years, I had known my father as a man who always had control.
He planned everything.
Predicted everything.
Solved every problem.
But tonight, for the first time, I heard something different.
Fear.
He was afraid.
And that meant one thing.
Whatever Emma had discovered…
Was bigger than I imagined.
“Damon.””
Victoria’s voice pulled me back.
I turned.
Her face was pale.
“He knows.””
I nodded.
“Yes.””
She looked at the open window.
“We have to leave.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because if Charles knows Lily is here, this house is no longer safe.””
I looked around the room.
My childhood home.
My family’s estate.
The place I thought was the safest place in the world.
Now it felt like a trap.
“Where would we go?””
Victoria hesitated.
“There’s somewhere Emma prepared.””
My eyes narrowed.
“You know where?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because she made me promise.””
I stepped toward her.
“Victoria, I’m done with promises.””
She looked down.
“I know.””
The anger was still there.
But beneath it was something else.
A terrible realization.
Everyone had been trying to protect something.
Emma protected me.
Victoria protected Emma.
My father protected his secrets.
And Lily…
Lily was the person who paid the price.
“Take me there.””
Victoria nodded.
“We need to move quickly.””
Before we left, I grabbed the flash drive from the desk.
The evidence Emma had left behind.
The truth.
Whatever was on it could explain everything.
As we walked through the hallway, I noticed something strange.
The security cameras.
Every single one was turned off.
I stopped.
“Why aren’t the cameras working?””
Victoria froze.
She looked up.
“I don’t know.””
I walked toward the security monitor.
The screen was black.
James came beside me.
“Damon.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He pointed.
There was a small red light blinking.
Someone had manually disabled the system.
Not a power failure.
Not an accident.
Someone inside the mansion had done it.
My blood went cold.
“How many people have access to this system?””
James swallowed.
“Only family members and senior security.””
Family.
That word felt different now.
I looked at Victoria.
She shook her head immediately.
“Not me.””
“I didn’t say it was you.””
But she looked hurt anyway.
Because trust was broken.
Not just between us.
Everywhere.
We rushed downstairs.
As we reached the front entrance, Lily’s stuffed rabbit was sitting on the floor.
I stopped.
It wasn’t there before.
Someone had placed it there.
I slowly picked it up.
A small piece of paper was attached to its paw.
I unfolded it.
My hands froze.
Because the handwriting was Emma’s.
*Damon, if you found Lily, it means Charles failed to stop the truth.*
I read the next line.
*But if he knows she is with you, you are already in danger.*
My heart pounded.
The note continued.
*Do not trust anyone who says they are protecting you.*
I looked at Victoria.
She looked away.
Then I read the final sentence.
*The accident was not meant for me. It was meant for you.*
The air left my lungs.
Me.
The accident was meant for me?
I remembered that night.
The phone call.
The hospital.
The rain.
Everything.
Emma wasn’t supposed to die.
I was supposed to.
I looked at Victoria.
“What happened that night?””
She became still.
“What?””
“The accident.””
Her face changed.
“Damon…”
“Tell me.””
She looked terrified.
“Emma wasn’t driving.””
The world went silent.
“What?””
“She was in the passenger seat.””
I felt my heartbeat in my ears.
“Then who was driving?””
Victoria didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
Because I already knew.
The memory came back.
The police report.
The part I never questioned.
The driver was identified as Emma Whitmore.
My wife.
The woman everyone said died behind the wheel.
But Victoria was telling me that was a lie.
“Who was driving?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Your father.””
The mansion seemed to tilt.
No.
Impossible.
My father.
The man who held my hand at the funeral.
The man who comforted me.
The man who told me to accept Emma’s death.
He was there.
He was in the car.
I took a step backward.
“Why?””
Victoria whispered:
“Because Emma discovered what he had done.””
I stared at her.
“What had he done?””
Before she could answer, every phone in the room buzzed at the same time.
Mine.
Victoria’s.
James’.
A message appeared.
Unknown sender.
One sentence.
*If you want Emma alive, come alone.*
Then another message appeared.
A photograph.
Emma.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
Her face bruised.
And beside her…
May you like
Standing in the shadows…
Was my father.
