Chapter 4: The Secret of My Mother's Final Night
"There's something about your mother's final night that I should have told you a long time ago.""
My father's voice trembled.
I stood frozen, holding the photograph.
For twenty-five years, I'd believed my mother died in a car accident on a rainy Thursday evening. I remembered the funeral, the black umbrellas, and my father's hand gripping mine so tightly that my fingers hurt.
I remembered asking him whether she had suffered.
He'd knelt in front of me and said, "No, son. She didn't feel anything.""
That was the last time we'd ever discussed it.
Now he was looking at me as if the past had finally caught up with him.
"Tell me," I whispered.
Dad glanced at Vanessa.
"Not in front of her.""
Vanessa laughed.
"Seriously? You're still trying to control what he knows?""
I turned toward her.
"Go upstairs.""
"Marcus—"
"GO!""
She stared at me, then picked up her handbag and walked out of the office.
But she didn't go upstairs.
I heard the front door open and close.
Dad waited until her car engine started before speaking.
"Your mother wasn't driving home alone that night.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"There was another person in the car.""
"Who?""
Dad sat down slowly.
"Daniel Cross.""
The name meant nothing to me.
"Who is Daniel Cross?""
"He was a business partner of mine. We owned a small auto repair shop together before I started working independently.""
I looked at the photograph.
The young man standing beside my mother had dark hair and a familiar smile.
"Is this him?""
Dad nodded.
"Yes.""
I felt something tighten in my chest.
"Why was Mom with your business partner?""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Because she had discovered that he'd been stealing money from the shop.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"Your mother handled some of the bookkeeping. She found payments that didn't match our records. She confronted Daniel. He denied everything.""
Dad paused.
"Then he disappeared.""
I looked down at the photograph again.
"And the accident?""
"Your mother called me that evening. She said she had found something important and wanted to meet me. I was working late. I told her to go home and that we'd talk in the morning.""
His voice cracked.
"But she never made it home.""
I swallowed.
"Was Daniel in the car?""
Dad nodded.
"Police found his vehicle several miles from the accident scene. He claimed he had been following your mother because he wanted to apologize. He said the collision was an accident.""
I couldn't breathe.
"Was he arrested?""
"No. There wasn't enough evidence to prove he caused the crash deliberately.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
Dad looked at me.
"Because you were eleven years old. You had just lost your mother. I didn't want you growing up believing someone had murdered her when I couldn't prove it.""
I sat down.
For a moment, I felt eleven again.
A frightened little boy standing in a cemetery, wondering why his mother wasn't coming home.
"Did you know he was responsible?""
Dad looked away.
"I suspected.""
"That's not an answer.""
"I suspected, Marcus. But suspicion isn't proof.""
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a second photograph.
It showed my mother standing outside the repair shop.
Behind her was a black sedan.
"She took this picture two days before she died," Dad explained.
"It was found among her belongings. Daniel was standing beside the car.""
I examined it.
Then I noticed something written on the back.
A date.
And underneath it:
The Bennett accounts. Everything is connected.
My eyes widened.
"What accounts?""
Dad shook his head.
"I don't know. Your mother never got the chance to explain.""
I stared at him.
Then something clicked.
"Vanessa said you were hiding something about my mother's death.""
Dad nodded.
"She found the photograph in my old storage box. I don't know how much she understands.""
I looked toward the door.
"Why would she care?""
Dad didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "Because Daniel Cross is alive.""
I slowly raised my head.
"What?""
"He contacted me six months ago.""
My stomach dropped.
"Six months?""
"He said he wanted to discuss an old financial matter. I refused to meet him.""
"Did you tell Vanessa?""
"No.""
"How did she know about him?""
Dad shook his head.
"I don't know.""
My phone vibrated.
An incoming message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
Marcus, your father has lied to you for years. If you want to know what happened to your mother, meet me tonight. Come alone.
A second message appeared.
It contained a photograph.
My mother.
Standing beside a hospital bed.
And in the hospital bed was a little boy.
Me.
I stared at the picture.
I remembered that hospital.
I'd been there after a childhood accident.
But the photograph had been taken years before my mother died.
On the back of the image, someone had written:
He was never supposed to know.
I looked at Dad.
He had seen the photograph on my phone.
His face drained of color.
"Where did you get that?""
I turned the screen toward him.
He stared at it.
Then he whispered something I never expected to hear.
"Daniel Cross.""
I immediately called the number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then a man's voice answered.
"Marcus Bennett?""
"Who is this?""
A pause.
Then:
"The man your mother was trying to protect you from.""
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
Dad grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't go anywhere alone.""
But before I could respond, another message arrived.
This one came from Vanessa.
I know you've spoken to Arthur. There's something else you need to understand. Daniel isn't the only person who knows what happened that night.
I looked toward the front window.
Vanessa's car was gone.
Then I noticed something on the photograph.
A reflection in the hospital window.
A woman standing behind the camera.
May you like
She was wearing a wedding ring.
And the ring looked exactly like the one Vanessa wore on her left hand.
