Chương 6
“For what?”
“To tell me something.”
Daniel waited.
“He said someone had been watching us.”
The apartment went silent.
Daniel looked at the staircase again.
The message.
The photograph.
The hidden brother.
Everything felt connected.
But he did not know how.
“What did he say exactly?”
Rachel hesitated.
“He said he knew someone was trying to use what happened to destroy me.”
Daniel’s grip tightened around the phone.
“Who?”
Another pause.
Then Rachel said a name.
And Daniel felt the ground shift beneath him.
“His name is Victor Hale.”
Victor Hale.
Daniel repeated the name silently, waiting for some familiar connection to appear.
Nothing came.
That almost made it worse.
A stranger could be explained.
A stranger could be investigated.
A stranger could be placed outside the edges of their life.
But Victor Hale was a name Daniel had never heard, attached to a person who somehow already knew enough about his family to send warnings and photographs.
“Who is he?” Daniel asked.
Rachel did not answer immediately.
The pause was longer than before.
“Rachel.”
“He used to work with me.”
Daniel leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Where?”
“At the hospital.”
Daniel frowned.
“You never told me about him.”
“I told you about my coworkers.”
“You told me about people who brought donuts to meetings and complained about schedules.”
Rachel was quiet.
“Victor wasn’t someone I talked about.”
“Why?”
Another silence.
Daniel felt the old instinct return.
The instinct to fill empty spaces before they became dangerous.
But he stopped himself.
He waited.
“He was my supervisor,” Rachel said.
Daniel looked toward the living room.
“You had a supervisor named Victor Hale and never mentioned him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Rachel exhaled.
“Because I left that job because of him.”
Daniel straightened.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try.”
Her voice became frustrated.
Not angry.
Frustrated with herself.
“He was the kind of person everyone liked at first.”
Daniel said nothing.
“He remembered birthdays.”
Rachel paused.
“He brought coffee for people.”
“He knew everyone’s family names.”
Daniel looked at the phone.
“And?”
“And he also knew how to make people feel small without anyone noticing.”
The words sat there.
Daniel thought about the photograph.
The hidden messages.
The feeling that something had been moving around them long before the staircase.
“What happened between you two?”
Rachel did not answer.
“Rachel.”
“I made a complaint.”
Daniel blinked.
“Against him?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before we moved.”
Daniel’s chest tightened.
Their move.
The year they left the smaller apartment across town and bought this place.
The year Rachel had told everyone she wanted a fresh start.
“You said you hated that job.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t say why.”
“I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
There were moments in their marriage that suddenly looked different.
Not because the memories changed.
Because new information had been placed beside them.
The late nights.
The anxiety.
The way Rachel would sit silently after work.
The sudden decision to quit.
He had thought she was unhappy.
He had never considered she might have been afraid.
“What happened after you complained?”
“Nothing.”
The answer came too quickly.
Daniel noticed.
“Nothing?”
Rachel gave a bitter laugh.
“You know how companies handle things like that.”
Daniel did not respond.
Because he did know.
Not personally.
But enough.
Enough to understand that proving someone made you uncomfortable was not the same as proving they had done something wrong.
“What does Victor have to do with yesterday?”
Rachel’s breathing changed.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know.”
“Then give me one.”
She was quiet.
Finally she said, “I think he has been watching me.”
Daniel looked around the apartment.
The thought made his skin tighten.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw him three nights ago.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I was scared.”
Daniel almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the answer hurt.
“Rachel, you were scared, so you kept more secrets?”
“I know how that sounds.”
“Do you?”
The question came out harsher than he intended.
Rachel went quiet.
Daniel immediately regretted his tone.
But he did not take it back.
Because too much had happened because everyone was afraid to say something uncomfortable.
“I’m trying to understand,” he said.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His voice softened.
“I spent years thinking I knew what was happening in this family.”
Rachel whispered, “You did.”
“No.”
He looked at the photograph still open on his phone.
“I knew what you showed me.”
The words hurt both of them.
Neither argued.
After the call ended, Daniel sat alone for nearly an hour.
He searched the name.
Victor Hale.
The results were ordinary at first.
A professional profile.
A few conference mentions.
A hospital newsletter from years earlier.
A photograph of a man in his forties smiling beside a group of employees.
Daniel stared at the picture.
He looked normal.
That bothered him.
People expected danger to announce itself.
They expected someone dangerous to look dangerous.
But most people did not.
Daniel clicked through the articles.
Victor had been praised for improving workplace communication.
He had received awards.
He had written about leadership.
Then Daniel found something buried deeper.
A legal document.
Not a criminal case.
A civil complaint.
The details were limited.
An employee had accused a supervisor of harassment and retaliation.
The case had been settled.
The employee’s name was not visible.
Daniel stared at the screen.
His phone buzzed.
The unknown number again.
This time there was no picture.
Only a message.
You are looking in the wrong direction.
Daniel typed back.
Then tell me the right one.
The response came several minutes later.
Ask Rachel why she really left the hospital.
Daniel felt anger rise again.
Not at the person sending the messages.
At the situation.
At the fact that every answer created three more questions.
He walked into Sophia’s room.
She was asleep.
May you like
Her teddy bear was tucked under her arm.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
