Chapter 5 - THE FATHER WHO LIED
“Your father knows we're coming.”
I couldn't speak.
For twenty-two years, I had believed my father was grieving.
Now I was being told he was alive, active, and standing outside the same train station where my mother's sister had been found.
Ethan took the photograph.
“Brian, how did you get this?”
“One of our people saw him.”
“Where is he now?”
“Gone.”
I looked at Ethan.
“I need to see him.”
His expression hardened.
“You don't know what you're walking into.”
“He is my father.”
“And he lied to you about your mother.”
“I still need answers.”
Ethan studied me.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
We drove north.
The entire trip, I held my mother's necklace.
The pendant felt heavier than it ever had.
When we reached the station, there was no sign of my father.
Only an old woman sitting on a bench.
She looked up when I approached.
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Jane.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“You know me.”
“I've known you since the night you were born.”
She stood slowly.
“I’m Margaret.”
“My mother's sister.”
She nodded.
I stared at her face.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
My mother's face was suddenly alive in front of me.
“Why did nobody tell me about you?”
“Because your father wanted you to hate my name.”
“Why?”
“Because I refused to lie for him.”
Margaret looked at Ethan.
“You brought him.”
“He's my husband.”
Her expression softened.
“For now.”
Ethan didn't react.
Margaret turned to me.
“Your mother loved you more than anything.”
I swallowed.
“Tell me what happened.”
She sat.
I sat beside her.
Ethan remained standing several feet away.
Margaret began quietly.
“Your mother discovered that your father was using the shipping routes to move money for Samuel Russo.”
I closed my eyes.
“She tried to expose them.”
“Yes.”
“Did my father kill her?”
Margaret hesitated.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“He didn't?”
“Your father ordered the accident.”
My stomach twisted.
“But your mother wasn't supposed to be in the car.”
“What?”
“Your father wanted to frighten her into silence. He didn't know you were with her.”
I felt sick.
“What happened?”
“Your mother realized what was coming.”
Margaret's voice broke.
“She pushed you out of the car before it went over the embankment.”
I covered my mouth.
“She saved me.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“Your mother survived the crash.”
I looked at her.
“She survived?”
“For three days.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“What happened after that?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Your father found her.”
My blood ran cold.
“He took her?”
“He tried to.”
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“But Ethan's father got there first.”
I looked at Ethan.
“He saved her?”
Margaret nodded.
“He tried to move her out of the city.”
“What went wrong?”
“Samuel found them.”
Ethan's face became rigid.
“Harbor 19.”
“Yes.”
I understood.
My mother had survived the crash.
She had reached Harbor 19.
And that was where everything had ended.
“Did she die there?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She escaped.”
“Then where did she go?”
Margaret reached inside her coat.
She pulled out an old envelope.
My name was written on it.
JANE.
My hands trembled.
“She left this for you.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
Holding me.
And beside her stood a young Ethan.
But this time, I noticed something.
Ethan wasn't looking at the camera.
He was looking at my mother.
Protectively.
I looked at him.
“You knew her.”
He nodded.
“She came to my father because she believed I could help.”
“Did you?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“I was twenty-two.”
His voice became quieter.
“I wasn't powerful enough.”
The admission surprised me.
“You were already feared.”
“My father's men feared him. Not me.”
He looked at the photograph.
“Your mother was the first person who told me I could leave that life.”
I stared.
“She changed you.”
“She tried.”
“What happened to her?”
Ethan's eyes met mine.
“She disappeared before I could find her again.”
Margaret spoke softly.
“Your mother lived under another name.”
I turned.
“Where?”
Margaret shook her head.
“She made me promise not to tell anyone until you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Margaret looked at Ethan.
“For the truth about why Ethan married you.”
My heart stopped.
I looked at him.
He didn't move.
Margaret continued.
“Your mother knew your father would eventually use you.”
“How?”
“She knew the only way to protect you was to place you beside someone powerful enough to stop him.”
I stared at Ethan.
“You knew?”
“I knew your mother wanted me to protect you.”
“You married me because she asked you to?”
“No.”
His answer was immediate.
“I married you because your father forced the alliance.”
He stepped closer.
“But after I learned why, I decided I would keep you alive.”
My eyes filled.
“Then why were you so cold?”
“Because I thought if you hated me, you would never trust me enough to become dependent on me.”
I almost laughed.
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
He looked ashamed.
“I thought distance was protection.”
I shook my head.
“You made me believe I was worthless.”
His expression broke.
“I know.”
Margaret looked between us.
“Then there is something else you need to know.”
She opened another envelope.
Inside was a recent photograph.
My mother.
Alive.
Older.
Standing beside a hospital bed.
And lying in the bed was a man.
My father.
I stared.
“That's impossible.”
Margaret whispered:
“He isn't the man you think he is.”
I looked closer.
My father's face was unmistakable.
But beside the photograph was a date.
Three days ago.
And on the back were six words.
Your father has been looking for you.
May you like
Then another sentence.
Because he knows what I survived.
