Chương 8
Her father had kept that picture for seventeen years.
And now she finally understood why.
He had not been hiding a secret.
He had been carrying one.
Mara kept staring at the photograph until the edges began to blur.
She had seen her father hide things before.
She had seen him avoid conversations, change subjects, and disappear into his own thoughts whenever life became too complicated.
But this was different.
This was a version of him that existed outside the small world she thought she understood.
“Reed,” she said quietly.
“I’m here.”
“Why did he help her?”
The question came out softer than she expected.
Not because she cared less.
Because she suddenly cared too much.
Reed was silent for several seconds.
Mara could hear traffic moving outside his office, the distant sound of someone laughing, the ordinary noise of people continuing with their lives.
It bothered her more than silence would have.
The world had no idea that seventeen years of questions had just opened in an old office.
“Claire was a financial analyst,” Reed finally said.
“She worked for a company connected to Vale.”
Mara looked back at the documents.
“Voss Holdings.”
“Yes.”
“What did she find?”
“She believed money was being moved through different organizations.”
“Like Horizon Youth Initiative.”
“Yes.”
Mara grabbed the folder again.
Her fingers moved faster than her eyes.
The names that had seemed random earlier now connected themselves into a shape she did not like.
“She went to the police?”
“She came to us first.”
“Why?”
“Because she didn’t trust the people above her.”
Mara stopped turning pages.
The sentence stayed with her.
Not because it was surprising.
Because it sounded exactly like something her father would believe.
“What happened after she talked to you?”
Reed took a breath.
“She gave us information.”
“And then?”
“And then she disappeared.”
“You keep saying that like people just vanish.”
“That is what happened.”
“No.”
Mara stood from the chair.
“That is what people say when they don’t know what happened.”
Reed did not argue.
That bothered her more.
“Was she killed?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
The answer sounded worse than a yes.
Mara walked toward the window again.
A delivery driver was unloading boxes from a truck across the street.
A woman in a blue coat was trying to hold an umbrella while opening her car door.
Small struggles.
Small problems.
A whole city full of people carrying things they could not put down.
“My father knew,” she said.
“I think he suspected.”
“He kept the picture.”
“Yes.”
“For seventeen years.”
“Yes.”
The repetition frustrated her.
Reed sounded like someone measuring every word before letting it escape.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m telling you that your father got involved in something dangerous.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It’s what I know.”
Mara laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You know, that sentence is becoming really annoying.”
“I know.”
She almost smiled despite herself.
Almost.
Reed had always been difficult to read.
Even when he was being kind, there was a distance to him.
Like he was standing behind a locked door and opening it only a few inches.
“What happened to the investigation?” she asked.
“It ended.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire was gone.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“It doesn’t.”
Mara waited.
“We didn’t have enough evidence.”
The words landed heavily.
Not because she believed him completely.
Because she understood the meaning behind them.
People did not disappear only because bad things happened.
Sometimes they disappeared because there was never enough proof that something bad had happened at all.
“What about Vale?”
“He denied everything.”
“Of course he did.”
“Mara.”
“What?”
“Be careful.”
She looked down at the street again.
“You already said that.”
“I mean it differently now.”
Something in his voice changed.
Not fear exactly.
Something closer to regret.
“Why?”
“Because your father wasn’t just looking into Vale.”
Mara turned.
“What else was he looking into?”
Reed hesitated.
That hesitation answered before his words did.
“People connected to him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know all their names.”
“But you know some.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Mara.”
“Tell me.”
Another pause.
“Your father believed someone inside the investigation was protecting Vale.”
The office became completely still.
For a moment, Mara forgot to breathe.
“That’s why you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You are.”
“I’m cautious.”
“Same thing with better vocabulary.”
Reed let out a quiet breath.
It sounded almost like a laugh, but it disappeared before becoming one.
“You sound like him sometimes.”
Mara hated how much that affected her.
She looked at the desk.
The old chair.
The papers.
The photograph.
She had spent years trying not to become her father.
Now every clue she found pulled her closer to him.
“I need to meet you,” she said.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
The speed of it surprised her.
“No?”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is watching, they expect you to come to me.”
Mara looked around the office again.
“You think someone is watching me?”
“I think someone knew that folder existed.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
Reed’s voice became quiet.
“It isn’t.”
A notification appeared on her phone.
Another message.
She looked down.
You should have left the office.
Her stomach tightened.
Reed heard the silence.
“What happened?”
Mara did not answer immediately.
She took a screenshot.
Then another.
“There’s someone messaging me.”
“What did they say?”
She read it out loud.
Reed went quiet.
“Mara.”
“What?”
“Do not respond.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not call the number.”
“I know.”
“Do not go outside alone.”
The command irritated her.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it reminded her of every person who suddenly wanted to protect her after years of letting her handle everything herself.
“I’m not a child.”
“I know.”
“Then stop talking to me like one.”
“I’m talking to you like someone who has no idea what she just stepped into.”
The anger disappeared from her face.
May you like
Because he was right.
And she hated that.
