Chương 4
Jason exhaled.
"The accident happened two days after you met her."
My stomach dropped.
Ethan looked at me.
The room seemed to shrink.
"Jason," he said.
"What?"
"How did you know I met her?"
Another silence.
A dangerous one.
"I was told."
"By who?"
Jason did not answer.
Ethan ended the call.
He did not throw the phone.
He did not shout.
He simply placed it down and stared at the floor.
That frightened me more.
"What did you remember?" I asked.
He rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know."
"Do you remember meeting me?"
"No."
The honesty hurt.
"But I remember your voice."
I looked away.
"That doesn't make sense."
"Nothing about this makes sense."
He leaned back slowly.
The effort seemed to exhaust him.
"I need to know what happened."
I nodded.
"So do I."
For a while, neither of us spoke.
The quiet between us was different now.
Before, it had been the silence between strangers.
Now it was the silence between two people who had both realized there was something hidden between them.
The next morning, Ethan asked for his medical records.
The hospital had already sent copies to the estate.
The accident report.
The treatment notes.
The timeline.
Everything.
Except something was missing.
The police report mentioned a witness.
A person who called emergency services.
But the witness's name had been removed from the copy provided to the family.
Ethan noticed immediately.
"Why is this redacted?"
The attorney standing beside him adjusted his glasses.
"Privacy concerns."
"Whose privacy?"
The attorney hesitated.
"Mr. Thornton."
Ethan looked up.
That was enough.
The attorney looked uncomfortable.
"No."
Ethan pushed the papers back.
"You will find out now."
The man swallowed.
"I can make a call."
"Make it."
I watched Ethan carefully.
Yesterday he had barely been able to sit up.
Today he was already forcing powerful people to answer questions.
It was impressive.
It was also unsettling.
Because I still did not know whether I was standing beside someone who trusted me or someone who was quietly investigating me.
When the attorney left, I picked up the accident report.
"Maybe Jason was wrong."
Ethan looked at me.
"Maybe."
"You don't sound convinced."
"I'm not."
I placed the papers down.
"Why?"
"Because Jason lied."
"About what?"
"He said he was told I met you."
"And?"
"I never told anyone about meeting you."
The room went quiet.
I looked at him.
"Are you saying someone else knew?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
Ethan looked toward the closed door.
"The same person who knew enough about my investigation to warn Jason."
A cold feeling moved through me.
For the first time, I understood something.
Ethan's accident might not have been the only thing in this house that was broken.
That afternoon, I found an old notebook hidden behind books in the library.
I was not searching for secrets.
I was looking for a quiet place.
The house had become unbearable.
Every hallway had someone whispering.
Every conversation stopped when I entered.
The notebook fell when I pulled a book from the shelf.
I almost put it back.
Then I saw Ethan's handwriting.
My name was written on the first page.
I froze.
The rational part of me said to close it.
Leave it alone.
Respect his privacy.
The scared part of me remembered Jason's words.
You were investigating someone.
I opened it.
The first page was not about me.
It was about my father.
I sat down slowly.
There were dates.
Names.
Financial records.
Questions.
My father's company.
Old debts.
Transfers.
Ethan had been looking into my family before the marriage.
But why?
I turned the pages.
The more I read, the worse it became.
He had not been investigating me because he thought I was dangerous.
He had been investigating because he thought someone was using me.
A note near the back caught my attention.
The handwriting was rushed.
"Marriage proposal came too quickly after Thornton account review."
Another line followed.
"Need proof before accusing anyone."
I heard a sound behind me.
The notebook slipped from my hands.
Ethan stood in the doorway.
His expression changed when he saw what I was holding.
"You found it."
I stood.
"You knew this was here?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I wasn't sure what it meant."
I laughed quietly.
"That's convenient."
His face tightened.
"You think I was waiting for you to find it?"
"I don't know what to think anymore."
That was the truth.
And it hurt because he seemed to understand.
He walked closer.
"I was investigating your father."
"Why?"
"Because money moved from one of his accounts into a company connected to someone in my family."
I stared at him.
"My father?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No."
He stopped a few feet away.
"That's why I was investigating."
I looked back at the notebook.
The anger inside me mixed with something else.
Fear.
"What does this have to do with me?"
"I don't know."
The answer was becoming a pattern.
But this time, I believed him.
Ethan sat down slowly.
His recovery had limits.
The powerful man everyone feared was still trapped inside a body that needed help standing.
"I met you because I was trying to find out why your father suddenly had access to money."
I swallowed.
"The money from the marriage."
He nodded.
"Yes."
I looked away.
"My father told me he did it to save us."
"Maybe he believed that."
The way Ethan said it bothered me.
"Maybe?"
He looked at me.
"People can believe they are doing something good and still hurt someone."
The words stayed between us.
Because they were about my father.
But they were also about Ethan.
About everyone in that house.
That evening, Vivian asked to speak with me alone.
We met in the formal sitting room.
The same room where I had signed the marriage papers.
She did not offer tea.
That was how I knew the conversation mattered.
"You found Ethan's notebook."
May you like
It was not a question.
I sat straighter.
