Chapter 11 - The Person Closest to Ethan
The family gathered in Walter's new living room.
For the first time, there were no accusations.
Only fear.
Ethan spread the documents across the table.
The property deed.
The bank records.
Margaret's letters.
The newspaper clipping.
Vanessa's confession.
Walter looked at everything.
“There is one piece missing.”
“What?”
“The money.”
Ethan frowned.
“If Richard took it, where did he put it?”
Walter shook his head.
“That's what Michael wanted to know.”
Vanessa whispered,
“My father kept a ledger.”
Walter looked at her.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You must.”
“I was fourteen.”
“But you remember.”
She closed her eyes.
“I remember a room.”
“What room?”
“Here.”
Everyone looked around.
Walter frowned.
“This house?”
Vanessa nodded.
“My father kept a hidden room.”
Walter stared at the walls.
He had owned this house decades ago.
He had never known about a hidden room.
Ethan stood.
“Where?”
Vanessa walked toward the hallway.
She stopped beside a wall.
“There.”
Walter knocked.
Solid.
Then another section.
Hollow.
Ethan's eyes widened.
Walter removed a framed painting.
Behind it was a small wooden panel.
He opened it.
A narrow passage appeared.
No one spoke.
Walter entered first.
The room beyond was tiny.
Inside was an old desk.
A chair.
And a metal box.
Ethan opened it.
There was no money.
No ledger.
Only photographs.
Photographs of Ethan.
As a child.
At school.
At soccer games.
At college.
At his wedding.
Walter stared.
“These were taken over twenty years.”
Ethan picked one up.
His face changed.
“Who took these?”
Vanessa did not answer.
Ethan looked at her.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then he found another photograph.
It showed Ethan standing outside a restaurant.
Beside him was a man.
The same man from the street.
Michael.
Ethan's hands began shaking.
The photograph was dated eight years earlier.
He had never known the man.
But someone had been watching him.
For years.
Walter took the photograph.
His voice was barely audible.
“Michael didn't disappear.”
Ethan stared.
“He was watching you.”
“Why?”
Walter looked at Vanessa.
Then at the photographs.
“Because whatever happened in 1986 was never finished.”
A sound came from outside.
A car door.
Everyone froze.
Walter looked through the window.
The dark sedan was parked across the street.
The man stood beside it.
Michael.
He looked directly at Ethan.
May you like
Then he raised a folder.
And pointed toward Walter.
