Chương 8
Ethan accepted the anger without defending himself.
That somehow made it harder.
Mara wanted him to fight back.
She wanted a reason to push him away.
Instead, he just stood there looking like a man who had already lost something years ago.
A knock came from the front door.
Three slow knocks.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Almost polite.
Mara felt her stomach tighten.
Nobody who came with good intentions knocked like they were waiting for permission to enter a stranger’s home.
Ethan looked at the door.
“Do not open it.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
The confidence in his voice bothered her.
“You really think I’m just going to hide while you decide what happens?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Ethan looked at Daniel’s letter in her hand.
“I think you need to understand something.”
The knocking stopped.
“The person outside might not be here because they want what Daniel found.”
Mara waited.
“They might be here because they want to know what you know.”
The difference was small.
The fear it created was not.
A shadow moved across the frosted glass beside the door.
Mara stepped back.
The house suddenly felt too open.
Too many windows.
Too many ways for someone to look inside.
Ethan walked toward the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“Back door.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m checking.”
“Checking what?”
“If we’re alone.”
Mara followed him despite herself.
She hated that she trusted his instincts more than her own.
The back door opened into the small yard behind the house.
The old wooden fence leaned slightly to one side because Daniel had always said he would fix it and never did.
A neighbor’s porch light flickered in the distance.
Everything looked ordinary.
That was the most unsettling part.
Ethan scanned the yard.
Nothing moved.
No footsteps.
No voices.
No obvious threat.
He stepped back inside and closed the door.
“They’re not here.”
Mara exhaled.
The relief lasted less than a second.
“Then who is outside?”
Ethan looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because she was exhausted by those words.
“You really should find a different sentence.”
“I’m aware.”
Another knock came.
This time harder.
Mara looked toward the front of the house.
Ethan moved toward the hallway.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“You need to stay behind me.”
“I spent months waiting for people to come back with answers.”
Her fingers tightened around Daniel’s letter.
“I’m done standing in another room while someone else decides what I can handle.”
Ethan studied her.
For a moment, something like respect crossed his face.
Then it disappeared.
“Fine.”
He walked to the door.
Mara stayed a few steps behind him.
The person outside knocked again.
“Ms. Voss?”
Mara recognized the voice.
Not personally.
But from the careful tone.
A stranger trying to sound harmless.
Ethan glanced back.
“You know that voice?”
“No.”
He opened the door only a few inches.
A woman stood on the porch.
She looked to be in her early fifties.
Dark hair pulled back.
A plain coat.
No expression that gave anything away.
Her eyes moved from Ethan to Mara.
The moment she saw Mara, her face changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“I was hoping I was wrong.”
Ethan’s hand tightened against the door.
“Who are you?”
The woman ignored him.
“Mara Voss?”
Mara stepped forward.
“Who are you?”
The woman looked at Ethan again.
“You brought her the letter.”
It was not a question.
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“How do you know about that?”
The woman looked tired.
“Because Daniel told me he was going to do it.”
Mara felt the air leave the room.
“You knew Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“Who are you?”
The woman looked at her.
“My name is Claire Whitmore.”
The name meant nothing.
But Ethan reacted.
Only slightly.
Mara noticed.
“You know her.”
Ethan did not answer.
“Ethan.”
He looked away.
“I know of her.”
Claire gave a quiet, humorless smile.
“That’s a very Ethan answer.”
Mara looked between them.
“Someone want to explain?”
Claire took a breath.
“I worked with your father.”
The words landed harder than she expected.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“At Northbridge?”
Claire nodded.
Mara felt the room become smaller.
“How?”
Claire looked down.
“Your father was not a simple client.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he found out the company he trusted was doing things he should not have known about.”
Ethan interrupted.
“Claire.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“You don’t know if she’s ready.”
Mara turned sharply.
“Stop saying that.”
Both of them looked at her.
“I am so tired of people deciding what I can handle.”
Her voice shook, but she did not lower it.
“My father died.”
She looked at Ethan.
“My husband disappeared.”
She looked at Claire.
“And apparently everyone has been protecting me from a truth I never asked anyone to hide.”
Nobody spoke.
The silence felt different.
Not empty.
Defeated.
Claire looked at her carefully.
“You sound like him.”
Mara frowned.
“Who?”
“Your father.”
The comparison made her uncomfortable.
“What was he like?”
Claire hesitated.
That hesitation told Mara more than the answer would have.
“He was stubborn.”
“That’s not exactly rare.”
A small smile appeared on Claire’s face.
“No.”
She looked down.
“He also believed that if something was wrong, ignoring it made him part of the problem.”
Mara thought of Daniel.
The late nights.
The unanswered messages.
The way he would stare at his computer after everyone else had gone to sleep.
She hated that the pieces were beginning to fit.
She hated that she wanted them to.
“What did my father find?”
Claire looked toward the street.
“Can we talk somewhere else?”
Mara almost refused.
Then she noticed Claire’s hands.
They were shaking.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
A person trying hard to hide fear.
“Come in.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Mara.”
“No.”
She met his eyes.
“If she knows something about my father, she comes inside.”
He did not argue.
That frightened her more than if he had.
May you like
Claire entered slowly.
She looked around the house.
