Chapter 8: The Father I Was Told to Forget
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not because of David.
Not because of Angela.
Not even because of the stolen trust.
Because of one photograph.
One impossible photograph.
My father.
Robert Collins.
Alive.
Standing beside my mother.
The man who supposedly walked away from us.
The man my mother spent years telling me had chosen another life.
The man I hated for leaving.
Except he hadn’t left.
Or at least, not the way I thought.
At 6:00 A.M., I found Margaret sitting alone on my back porch.
She looked exhausted.
Like someone who had carried a secret for too long.
I stepped outside.
“You owe me the truth.””
She nodded.
“I know.””
“No more protecting me.””
She looked at me.
“Your mother said the same thing.””
I froze.
“What?””
Margaret sighed.
“Near the end, Evelyn regretted keeping so much from you.””
“Then why didn’t she tell me?””
“Because she was scared of what would happen if you knew.””
I sat across from her.
“Tell me about my father.””
Margaret looked toward the trees.
“Robert wasn’t the man you were told he was.””
My hands tightened.
“Then who was he?””
“He was your mother’s business partner.””
I stared.
“My father?””
“Yes.””
“That makes no sense.””
Margaret nodded.
“It doesn’t. Not unless you know the whole story.””
She took a breath.
“Your father and Evelyn built the company together. When the company became successful, they became targets.””
“Targets?””
“People wanted control.””
I thought about David.
Marcus.
The trust.
Everything connected.
“Marcus?””
Margaret nodded.
“Marcus was involved from the beginning.””
I felt sick.
“My mother trusted him.””
“She did.””
“And my father?””
“Your father discovered Marcus was moving money.””
I stared.
“He tried to expose him?””
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
Margaret looked at me.
“He disappeared.””
The word echoed.
“Disappeared?””
“Robert knew too much. Someone threatened him. He left because he believed staying would put you and Evelyn in danger.””
I stood.
“So my mother lied to me?””
“She hid the truth.””
“That’s a lie.””
Margaret looked down.
“Sometimes people confuse protection with honesty.””
I walked away.
I didn’t know who to be angry with anymore.
The people who betrayed me.
Or the people who loved me but decided I couldn’t handle the truth.
Later that morning, Daniel met me at a coffee shop.
He placed a folder on the table.
“I found more.””
I opened it.
Inside were financial records.
Emails.
Old documents.
“What am I looking at?””
“Your father’s investigation.””
I looked up.
“He kept records?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
Daniel hesitated.
“In a safety deposit box.””
My heart skipped.
“Where?””
“Arizona.””
Of course.
Arizona.
The place where David and Angela thought they could hide.
The place where everything started.
“Did you access it?””
“Not yet.””
“Why?””
“Because it requires two signatures.””
I frowned.
“Whose?””
Daniel looked at me.
“Robert Collins and Evelyn Collins.””
I stared.
“That’s impossible.””
“Not exactly.””
He slid another document across the table.
A power-of-attorney form.
Signed six years ago.
My mother’s signature.
And another signature.
Robert Collins.
Alive.
My phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
There was one sentence.
STOP LOOKING FOR ANSWERS YOUR MOTHER HID.
Then a second message arrived.
A photograph.
I opened it.
My blood ran cold.
It was taken outside the coffee shop.
Someone had been watching me.
Daniel noticed my expression.
“What happened?””
I handed him the phone.
His face hardened.
“We need to leave.””
“Why?””
“Because whoever sent this knows where you are.””
We stood.
But before we reached the door, Daniel’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?””
His expression changed.
“What?””
I watched him listen.
Then his face went pale.
“Are you sure?””
He ended the call.
“What?””
He looked at me.
“The safety deposit box was opened.””
My stomach dropped.
“By who?””
Daniel swallowed.
“The bank says the second signature was verified.””
I waited.
“Whose?””
He looked at the photograph of my father.
“Robert Collins.””
I whispered:
“But my father has been dead for six years.””
Daniel stared at me.
“No, Rebecca.””
May you like
His voice lowered.
“Your father isn’t dead.””
