Chapter 10: The Uncle Who Knew Our Secrets
I didn’t hear anything after Dad said his name.
Not the television playing quietly in the background.
Not Mom asking questions.
Not Grandma whispering that it couldn’t be true.
All I heard was one name.
Ryan.
My uncle.
My father’s younger brother.
The man who used to bring me ice cream after school.
The man who taught me how to throw a baseball.
The man who called me Little Star because, according to him, I was the brightest thing in the room.
“No,” I whispered.
Dad looked at me.
“Maya.””
“No.””
My voice became louder.
“Uncle Ryan wouldn’t do that.””
Nobody answered.
Because nobody wanted to say the words out loud.
Dad sat down slowly.
“I don’t want to believe it either.””
Mom looked at him.
“Marcus, are you sure?””
Dad looked exhausted.
“Daniel recognized his voice.””
Grandma closed her eyes.
“Ryan…”
She said his name like it hurt.
“You knew?””
Dad turned toward her.
“What?””
Grandma looked away.
“I knew he was involved with Whitmore.””
The room went silent.
Dad stood.
“You knew?””
“I suspected.””
“You suspected my brother was working with the man who destroyed our family, and you said nothing?””
Grandma’s eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t have proof.””
“You had enough to tell me.””
“Marcus—”
“No.””
His voice cracked.
“You spent years protecting everyone except me.””
That sentence hurt everyone.
Especially Grandma.
Because it was true.
She had protected my father from pain.
My mother from fear.
Me from reality.
But nobody had protected him from the truth.
I stood.
“Why would Uncle Ryan do this?””
Nobody answered.
Then Grandma spoke.
“Because your grandfather chose your father.””
Dad looked confused.
“What?””
Grandma looked at him.
“When your grandfather created the scholarship foundation, he planned for you to take over one day.””
Dad froze.
“But I wasn’t interested in finances.””
“I know.””
“Ryan was.””
The room became quiet.
“He wanted control,” Grandma continued.
“He believed he deserved it.””
Dad shook his head.
“That’s impossible.””
“No.””
Grandma’s voice was firm.
“Ryan spent his entire life believing you were chosen over him.””
I remembered.
The family gatherings.
The little comments.
The jokes Ryan made.
“You’re the responsible one, Marcus.””
“You were always Dad’s favorite.””
I had always thought they were harmless.
Now they sounded different.
Like tiny cracks in something bigger.
Dad walked toward the window.
“I never knew.””
“I know.””
“He never said anything.””
“Some people don’t say what they feel.””
Grandma looked down.
“They let it grow.””
My phone suddenly buzzed.
Everyone turned.
Unknown number.
A picture.
I opened it.
My stomach dropped.
It was a photograph of our family.
A birthday party from years ago.
Me.
Dad.
Mom.
Grandma.
Ryan.
All smiling.
Then a message appeared.
*You really thought family meant loyalty?*
I felt sick.
Dad took the phone.
“Don’t respond.””
Another message arrived.
*Ask your father why Ryan disappeared the night Thomas died.*
Dad froze.
I noticed.
“Dad?””
He didn’t speak.
Mom looked at him.
“Marcus?””
Slowly, Dad sat down.
“I never told anyone this.””
My heart started racing.
“What?””
“The night my father died…”
He looked at Grandma.
“Ryan wasn’t home.””
Grandma’s face changed.
“Marcus.””
“He said he was out with friends.””
Dad stared at the photo.
“But he came back two hours later.””
Nobody moved.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”” Mom asked.
Dad shook his head.
“Because I was seventeen.””
His voice became quieter.
“I had just lost my father. I didn’t want to believe my brother could have anything to do with it.””
The room felt frozen.
Then another message appeared.
*Ask him about the missing key.*
Dad stared at the screen.
“What key?””
I looked at him.
“Dad?””
He looked confused.
“I don’t know.””
Grandma suddenly stood.
“I do.””
Everyone turned.
Her face had gone pale.
“The key to your grandfather’s office.””
Dad stared.
“What?””
“After Thomas died, the office was locked.””
“And?””
Grandma swallowed.
“The key disappeared.””
A horrible feeling moved through me.
“Who had access?””
Nobody answered.
May you like
Then Dad whispered:
“Ryan.””
