Chương 3
Daniel.
If you are reading this, then I waited too long.
He swallowed.
The rest of the room seemed quieter.
I spent most of my life believing that if I worked hard enough, I could fix whatever I broke.
I was wrong about that.
Daniel lowered the page slightly.
Maria watched him but did not interrupt.
He read the next few lines silently.
His father wrote about regret.
Not specific regret.
Not yet.
Just the kind that comes from realizing time does not negotiate.
The letter ended after only two paragraphs.
There was no explanation.
No name.
No answer.
Only one sentence that made Daniel’s hand tighten around the paper.
Ask why Evelyn never came to the funeral.
He looked up.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Maria’s expression changed.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“When?”
“After the funeral.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I would have remembered.”
Maria looked down.
“That’s the problem.”
The words bothered him.
Not because they were cruel.
Because they sounded like something he already knew.
After his father died, the house had filled with people.
Relatives.
Business partners.
Lawyers.
Neighbors bringing food nobody ate.
Daniel remembered conversations.
He remembered signing documents.
He remembered standing in the driveway while strangers told him how lucky he was to have had such a great father.
But he did not remember Maria trying to tell him anything.
“What happened after the funeral?” he asked.
Maria ran her thumb along the edge of the table.
“You were angry.”
“I was grieving.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
The words came out faster than he intended.
Maria looked at him.
Daniel immediately regretted saying it.
She had lost something too.
Not the same thing.
But something.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Maria nodded once.
“Your father was difficult.”
Daniel looked surprised.
“That’s not what people say about him.”
“People say many things about the dead.”
A strange silence followed.
Daniel placed the letter down.
“What did you do with the watch?”
Maria looked at the bag.
“I gave it to Evelyn.”
The answer hit with a force he was not prepared for.
“You gave my father’s watch to a stranger?”
“She is not a stranger.”
“She is to me.”
“That does not mean she was to him.”
Daniel stood up.
His chair scraped against the floor.
“You should have come to me.”
“Yes.”
The immediate agreement stopped him.
Maria looked exhausted.
“I should have.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because your father told me not to.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You keep saying that like it explains everything.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then explain.”
Maria looked at the photograph again.
“Your father was afraid that if you knew too soon, you would do exactly what you’re doing now.”
Daniel’s anger faded into confusion.
“What?”
“You would decide what the truth had to be before you heard it.”
He wanted to argue.
He wanted to say she was wrong.
But he remembered how quickly he had looked at the missing watch and looked at Maria.
How quickly he had turned three years of trust into suspicion.
The realization did not make him forgive her.
It only made him uncomfortable.
His phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text from Rachel.
Did you talk to Maria?
Daniel looked at the message.
Then another one appeared.
You need to be careful.
He stared at the words.
“Rachel knows about this.”
Maria nodded slowly.
“She knows some of it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your family has been carrying different pieces of the same problem.”
Daniel looked toward the front door.
For the first time that day, the house did not feel like his.
It felt like a place where conversations had happened without him.
A place where people had made decisions around him while pretending to protect him.
“I need to find Evelyn.”
Maria looked up quickly.
“That might not be easy.”
“Why?”
“Because she left town.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Why?”
Maria did not answer right away.
The hesitation returned.
And this time Daniel saw something else behind it.
Fear.
“Maria.”
She looked toward the window.
“Because someone else was looking for her first.”
The sentence changed everything.
Daniel felt the anger leave him.
Not disappear.
Just move aside for something colder.
“Who?”
Maria reached into the bag and pulled out the flash drive.
“I don’t know.”
“You said someone was looking for her.”
“I said someone was looking.”
“Who?”
Maria placed the flash drive between them.
“Your father found out before he died that someone had been going through his records.”
Daniel stared at the small black device.
The missing watch.
The photograph.
The letter.
The woman who vanished three days ago.
None of it fit together.
And somehow, all of it belonged to the same story.
Maria pushed the flash drive closer.
“Your father copied something before he lost access.”
“Lost access to what?”
She looked at him.
“Everything.”
The answer made his skin tighten.
“What does that mean?”
Maria’s eyes moved toward the upstairs hallway.
“Go ask yourself why your father stopped trusting the people closest to him.”
Daniel followed her gaze.
The office door upstairs was closed.
It had been closed since the morning after the funeral.
He had never opened it.
Not because he was afraid of what he would find.
Because he was afraid he would find nothing.
Now he walked toward the stairs with the flash drive in his hand, carrying a question that felt heavier than the missing watch.
For the first time since his father died, Daniel wondered if the man he had buried had been trying to leave him a warning instead of an inheritance.
The office door resisted at first, swollen slightly from years of humidity and neglect, and Daniel had to put his shoulder against it to force it open.
The sound bothered him more than it should have.
It was only a door.
May you like
A piece of wood and metal.
But his father had always closed doors with purpose.
