Chapter 2
I stared at the man on my phone.
Then at my father.
Then back at the screen.
"Your brother?"
Dad didn't answer.
He stood perfectly still, staring at the recording as though he had seen a ghost.
Denise pressed both hands against her chest.
"Marcus, please let me explain."
My father turned toward her.
"Where did you find him?"
She shook her head.
"Please don't do this in front of Malik."
I felt anger rise in my throat.
"Don't do what? Tell me the truth?"
She looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
Not hatred.
Not even fear.
Desperation.
Dad stepped closer to her.
"Answer me."
"Marcus—"
"WHERE DID YOU FIND MY BROTHER?"
Denise flinched.
I had never heard my father sound like that.
He wasn't simply angry anymore.
He sounded wounded.
As though someone had reached into his chest and reopened an injury that had never healed.
Finally, Denise whispered, "He contacted me."
Dad shook his head.
"Impossible."
"He did."
"When?"
She looked down.
"Six months ago."
The silence that followed was unbearable.
I watched my father's hands begin trembling.
Six months.
For six months, Denise had apparently been speaking to a man Dad believed was dead.
And she hadn't told him.
I looked at the phone again.
The stranger's face was clear now.
He had Dad's eyes.
The same strong jaw.
The same broad shoulders.
Only his beard was darker, and a scar ran above his left eyebrow.
I had never met my uncle.
But I suddenly understood why my father recognized him instantly.
"Dad, what happened to him?"
My father closed his eyes.
"His name is Raymond."
He swallowed.
"Raymond Williams."
I waited.
"He was my younger brother."
"Was?"
Dad looked at me.
"We were told he died overseas after a terrible accident."
I frowned.
"What kind of accident?"
"He was working on a construction project in another country. There was an explosion. The company reported several fatalities."
I felt cold.
"And they told you he was one of them?"
Dad nodded.
"They sent documents. Personal belongings. Everything."
Denise moved toward the door.
My father noticed immediately.
"Stay where you are."
She stopped.
He pointed toward the recording.
"Why was Raymond in my office?"
Denise wiped her cheeks.
"He wanted something."
"What?"
She hesitated.
"Documents."
My father stared at her.
"What documents?"
"About the company."
I looked toward the hallway.
Dad owned Williams Development Group, a construction and property company he had built over twenty-five years.
It had started with one borrowed truck.
Now it employed hundreds of people.
My father worked constantly.
Sometimes I wished he worked less.
But I had always been proud of him.
And now someone was telling us that his supposedly dead brother had secretly entered his office.
"What company documents?" Dad demanded.
Denise looked miserable.
"I don't know exactly."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"He said they belonged to him!"
Dad froze.
"What?"
Denise lowered her voice.
"He said you stole his share of the business."
My father recoiled.
"That's a lie."
She looked away.
"That's what he told me."
I couldn't understand how the missing ring had turned into this.
An hour earlier, I had been worrying about a chemistry test.
Now I was standing in my kitchen listening to accusations involving a dead uncle and my father's business.
"Dad," I said quietly, "can we watch the rest?"
He nodded.
I pressed play.
On the recording, Denise and Raymond disappeared into the office.
The hallway remained empty for several minutes.
Then Raymond stepped out.
He was holding the folder.
Denise followed him.
They exchanged a few words.
The hallway camera had no usable audio.
But I saw Raymond grab Denise's wrist.
She pulled away.
He pointed toward the office.
Then she nodded.
They left separately.
My father stared at the screen.
"That folder contains documents from my private safe."
Denise shook her head.
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
"I didn't open your safe!"
Dad walked toward the office.
I followed him.
Denise hurried behind us.
"Marcus, wait!"
He ignored her.
The office door was unlocked.
Dad crossed to the large wooden cabinet behind his desk.
Inside was a concealed wall safe.
He entered the code.
The door opened.
I watched his face change.
"What?" I asked.
He reached inside.
Pulled out several folders.
Then began searching.
One folder was missing.
A dark green leather binder.
Dad turned toward Denise.
"Where is it?"
She said nothing.
"The original partnership agreement. Where is it?"
Denise began crying harder.
"I didn't know he was going to take it."
Dad slammed the safe shut.
I jumped.
He immediately looked at me.
"I'm sorry, son."
It was such a small sentence.
But hearing it after everything that had happened made my eyes burn.
He turned back toward Denise.
"You brought a stranger into my house."
"He's your brother!"
"A man I believed was dead!"
She shook her head.
"He said he needed proof that you betrayed him."
My father looked devastated.
"I never betrayed Raymond."
"That's not what he says."
Dad stepped back.
For a moment, I thought he might collapse.
I reached for his arm.
"Dad?"
He looked at me.
And I saw something terrifying.
Uncertainty.
My father had always known what to do.
Even when life became difficult, he found answers.
Now he looked lost.
Then his eyes moved toward my backpack.
The ring.
The accusation.
The video.
He turned toward Denise.
"Why did you accuse Malik of stealing your ring?"
She wiped her face.
"I thought—"
"No."
His voice hardened.
"Don't tell me what you thought. Tell me what you did."
She remained silent.
I reached for my phone.
"The first recording continues after she opens my bag."
Dad looked at me.
"Play it."
I opened the earlier clip again.
This time, we watched beyond the moment Denise searched through my backpack.
She reached into her blouse pocket.
Something glittered.
A small object.
She slipped it between my textbooks.
Then closed the zipper.
My stomach twisted.
The ring.
She had planted it.
Dad slowly sat down.
"Denise."
She covered her mouth.
I felt tears spill down my cheeks.
For twenty minutes, my father had treated me like a criminal.
And she had done it deliberately.
"Why?" I whispered.
Denise looked at me.
Then at Dad.
Finally, she said, "Because Raymond told me Malik had seen him."
I froze.
"What?"
"He said Malik might recognize him from the camera footage."
Dad stared at her.
"So you framed my son?"
She began shaking.
"He said you would believe Malik if he showed you the video."
I couldn't speak.
Denise continued.
"He told me to make sure Marcus stopped trusting him."
My father rose slowly.
"Where is Raymond now?"
Denise shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Call him."
"I can't."
"Why?"
She looked at the floor.
Then whispered, "Because he told me if I failed, he would destroy everything."
I felt my chest tighten.
"What everything?"
Denise looked directly at me.
"Your father's company."
She swallowed.
"And the truth about what happened to your mother."
I stopped breathing.
My mother had died when I was seven.
Dad had always told me her death was an accident.
Now Denise was standing in his office, telling us that a man who should have been dead knew something about it.
I looked at Dad.
His face had gone completely white.
"Dad?"
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"What happened to Mom?"
My father looked at Denise with pure disbelief.
Then he whispered, "How does Raymond know about that night?"
Denise began crying.
May you like
And I realized something worse than the ring had been stolen from our family.
Someone had been hiding the truth about my mother's death.
