Chương 5
On Friday evening, Richard finally brought the photograph home.
He found Victor in the garden repairing a loose section of the wooden fence.
Mia sat nearby with a coloring book balanced on her knees.
She was drawing flowers that were mostly purple because she had decided purple was the only color worth using.
Richard stood at the edge of the grass.
Victor noticed the photograph in his hand.
His expression changed before Richard said anything.
That was enough.
“You know her,” Richard said.
Victor placed the screwdriver down.
“Yes.”
The simple answer made Richard’s chest tighten.
“Who is she?”
Victor looked at Mia.
“Not here.”
Richard glanced at his daughter.
She was still coloring, but children noticed more than adults believed.
“After she goes to bed.”
Victor nodded.
That night felt longer than it should have.
Mia took almost an hour to fall asleep because she wanted three stories instead of one.
Richard usually would have rushed through them.
Instead, he sat beside her bed and read every page slowly.
Halfway through the second story, Mia interrupted him.
“Daddy.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at Grandpa?”
Richard looked down at the book.
“No.”
It was not completely true.
But it was not a lie either.
Mia studied him.
“Grandpa gets quiet when he is sad.”
Richard looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“He gets quiet.”
Children sometimes understood people without needing explanations.
Richard closed the book.
“Do you think Grandpa is sad?”
Mia nodded.
“He thinks nobody sees him.”
The sentence stayed with Richard long after she fell asleep.
Later, he found Victor sitting alone on the patio.
The garden lights cast soft circles across the stone.
The same place where everything had changed days earlier looked ordinary again.
Richard sat down across from him.
He placed the photograph on the table.
Victor did not touch it.
“Her name was Elena,” Victor said.
Richard waited.
“She was your mother’s sister.”
Richard frowned.
“My aunt?”
Victor nodded.
“You had an aunt.”
The words felt strange.
Not because the information was impossible.
Because it was something he should have known.
“Why didn’t I know?”
Victor looked toward the dark garden.
“Because some things become easier to bury than explain.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.”
Victor rubbed his hand over his face.
“It is the truth.”
Richard leaned forward.
“I need more than that.”
Victor was quiet for a long moment.
“Elena was the person who taught me that protecting someone and controlling someone were not the same thing.”
Richard listened.
“She was younger than your mother.”
“How much younger?”
“Six years.”
Victor picked up the photograph.
“She was the one person in our family who told me when I was wrong.”
Richard looked at the picture.
“What happened to her?”
Victor’s fingers tightened around the edge.
“She disappeared from our lives.”
“Disappeared?”
“Not like a mystery.”
Victor looked at him.
“Like people disappear when they become inconvenient.”
Richard felt a chill despite the warm night.
“What does that mean?”
“It means families can hide things just as well as strangers.”
For the first time, Richard saw something he had never seen before.
Fear.
Not fear of another person.
Fear of a memory.
“What did Mom have to do with it?”
Victor did not answer immediately.
That was an answer by itself.
Richard stood.
“You are telling me my whole life has missing pieces?”
Victor looked at him.
“Everyone’s does.”
“That is not comforting.”
“It is not supposed to be.”
Richard walked a few steps away.
He looked back at the house.
Through the window, he could see Mia’s small night-light glowing upstairs.
The sight grounded him.
Whatever happened before him was still connected to the child sleeping inside.
“What did Elena know?” Richard asked.
Victor looked down.
“She knew things about me.”
“Bad things?”
Victor took a slow breath.
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised Richard.
“What kind of things?”
“Things I regret.”
Richard waited for excuses.
There were none.
“I made choices when I was younger,” Victor said.
“Choices involving your business?”
“Yes.”
“Illegal?”
Victor looked at him.
“I am not going to pretend my life was cleaner than it was.”
Richard sat back down.
The answer created more questions instead of fewer.
“You were dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“You scared people.”
“Yes.”
“You hurt people.”
Victor looked away.
“Sometimes.”
The word landed heavily.
Richard expected anger.
Instead, he felt something more complicated.
Disappointment mixed with understanding.
He had spent his life wanting his father to be either a hero or a villain.
The truth was harder.
The truth was a person.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” Richard said.
Victor nodded.
“You are not supposed to fix my past.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because your daughter deserves a grandfather who does not hide behind a perfect story.”
Richard looked at him.
The answer was difficult to argue with.
Before he could respond, his phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He almost ignored it.
Then another message appeared.
A photograph.
Not the old one.
A new one.
Taken from a distance.
It showed Victor sitting with Mia in the garden earlier that day.
Richard’s stomach tightened.
Below the image was a sentence.
“Ask him what he did to Elena.”
He stood immediately.
Victor noticed.
“What is it?”
Richard showed him the phone.
Victor’s face changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
“You know who sent this.”
Victor did not answer.
Richard stared at him.
“Dad.”
Victor looked toward the gate.
The same gate where he had entered days earlier.
The same gate where everything had started.
“I know who wants me to think they sent it,” Victor said.
“That is not the same thing.”
Richard’s frustration rose.
“You keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking like everything is a chess game.”
Victor looked at him.
“Because sometimes it is.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
His voice became quieter.
“Sometimes it is just a family.”
The words affected Victor more than Richard expected.
The older man looked down.
May you like
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small envelope.
