Chapter 4: The Truth Hidden Underneath
The photograph stayed on my desk all night.
I couldn’t sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Vanessa’s mother standing beside my father.
A woman everyone believed was dead.
A woman connected to the secret that had followed me for years.
By morning, I had one decision.
I needed answers from the person who had been lying to me from the beginning.
Vanessa.
She was waiting in the garden when I arrived.
The wedding decorations surrounded her.
White flowers.
Golden lights.
A perfect scene.
A perfect lie.
“You found out about my mother,” she said.
I stopped.
“You knew I would?””
She looked down.
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Since before we met.””
The words hurt more because they were expected.
“Tell me everything.””
Vanessa sat on the bench.
“My mother didn’t die.””
I waited.
“She disappeared.””
“Why?””
“Because she knew something about your father.””
“What?””
Vanessa looked at me.
“My mother was Richard Carter’s accountant.””
I froze.
“She discovered money was being stolen from the company.””
“By my uncle?””
“No.””
The answer shocked me.
“Then who?””
Vanessa’s hands shook.
“My father.””
The silence between us was enormous.
“You knew?””
“I knew my father was involved. I didn’t know the entire truth.””
“And you still came into my life.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Tears filled her eyes.
“Because I wanted proof.””
I looked away.
“You used me.””
“I know.””
“You let me love you while you investigated my family.””
“I know.””
Her voice broke.
“But then something happened.””
“What?””
“I actually fell in love with you.””
I wanted to hate her.
It would have been easier.
But the worst betrayals are complicated.
Because sometimes the person who hurts you also means something to you.
Before I could answer, my phone rang.
It was Maria.
“Mr. Carter, Sophie found something.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“She says she remembers something from the library.””
I immediately drove back.
Sophie was sitting in the kitchen with a drawing in front of her.
When she saw me, she smiled.
“Hi.””
“Hi, Sophie. What did you find?””
She pointed at the paper.
“I drew the man I saw.””
I looked down.
It was a child’s drawing.
A tall person.
A briefcase.
A ring on one hand.
“Are you sure you saw him?””
She nodded.
“He talked to Mrs. Vanessa.””
My stomach tightened.
“When?””
“Before I went inside.””
Maria looked confused.
“What man?””
Sophie whispered:
“He told Mrs. Vanessa she had to get the papers before Mr. Carter found them.””
I looked at Vanessa.
Her face went pale.
“You never told me that.””
She shook her head.
“I didn’t know.””
I picked up the drawing.
“Sophie, did you see his face?””
She nodded.
“He took off his glasses.””
My voice became quiet.
“Who was it?””
She pointed at the drawing.
Then said:
“It was the man who comes to your house every week.””
Nobody moved.
I looked at Maria.
Then Vanessa.
Then the drawing.
Because there was only one person Sophie could mean.
Someone who had been inside my home countless times.
Someone I trusted.
Someone who knew every secret room.
Every locked door.
Every weakness.
My estate manager entered the kitchen at that exact moment.
“Mr. Carter?””
I turned.
His expression changed when he saw everyone staring at him.
“Is everything okay?””
I held up the drawing.
And watched the color disappear from his face.
Because Sophie had drawn one detail perfectly.
A small scar above his eyebrow.
The same scar I had seen every day for six years.
The same scar belonging to the man who managed my home.
And the man who had just walked into the room asking what was wrong.
“Mr. Bennett,” I said slowly.
His smile faded.
“Yes?””
I placed the drawing on the table.
May you like
“Why did a six-year-old girl draw you standing inside my library with my missing documents?””
And for the first time in my life, the man who knew everything about my house had no answer.
