The Truth Between Us

CHAPTER 9

The Truth Between Us

(Amara’s POV)

The silence after the call felt unbearable.

I stared at the phone lying on the table like it had just exploded.

My uncle.

Samuel Nwoye.

The name I hadn’t heard spoken out loud in years had suddenly returned to my life like a ghost dragging chaos behind it.

And somehow…

Daniel was standing right in the center of it.

“He’s lying,” I said quickly.

Daniel didn’t respond.

I looked at him, searching his face.

“You think he’s telling the truth?”

“I think he knows something.”

“That doesn’t mean my uncle killed your brother.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

Daniel rubbed his jaw slowly, his mind clearly working through possibilities.

“Why would someone call you with this information?” he asked.

“I have no idea!”

“That’s the problem.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means someone wants us to know about Samuel Nwoye.”

My stomach twisted.

“And that’s bad?”

“It depends on why.”

I dropped onto the couch again, my mind spinning.

All these years my parents had avoided talking about my uncle. Whenever I asked about him growing up, they always changed the subject.

I thought it was just a normal family disagreement.

But now…

Now it felt like something much darker.

“I need to call my parents,” I said.

Daniel immediately shook his head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if your uncle is actually connected to what happened five years ago, we don’t know who else might be involved.”

“So?”

“So warning people could alert the wrong person.”

I stared at him.

“You really live your life like this all the time?”

“Like what?”

“Like everyone is a suspect.”

He didn’t answer.

Which was answer enough.

I stood up and started pacing again.

“This is insane.”

“Yes.”

“I was supposed to be planning a charity event.”

“You still are.”

“Daniel!”

He looked at me calmly.

“You can panic later. Right now we need to focus.”

I threw my hands in the air.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know.”

I stopped pacing and pointed at him.

“You dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t drag you.”

“You literally investigated my entire life!”

“Yes.”

“And hired me to stay close to me.”

“Yes.”

“And now some stranger is calling my phone talking about my missing uncle!”

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath.

“Do you see why I might be slightly stressed right now?”

For the first time that night…

Daniel actually smiled.

A small one.

But it was there.

“You handle stress well.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Did you just compliment me?”

“Yes.”

“At a time like this?”

“Yes.”

I shook my head.

“You’re impossible.”

“Probably.”

The room went quiet again.

Finally, I asked the question that had been sitting in the back of my mind since the first time I met him.

“Daniel.”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you hate me?”

He looked confused.

“When you first saw my name.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because you thought my family might be responsible for your brother’s death.”

His expression grew thoughtful.

“I didn’t know what to think.”

“But you still approached me in the café.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Daniel leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Because you didn’t look like someone hiding a secret.”

I blinked.

“That’s your reasoning?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?”

“You were angry about a client who refused to pay you.”

“So?”

“So someone capable of orchestrating a fatal accident usually doesn’t spend their afternoons arguing about unpaid invoices.”

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

A real laugh.

“You profiled me based on a phone call?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“And yet it was accurate.”

He had a point.

But still…

“You’re lucky I didn’t throw coffee at you.”

“I considered that possibility.”

Another silence settled between us.

But this one felt… different.

Less tense.

More human.

I studied him carefully.

For a man who had spent five years chasing the truth about his brother’s death, Daniel Cole was surprisingly calm.

Controlled.

But beneath that control, I could sense something else.

Pain.

“You loved him a lot, didn’t you?” I said quietly.

His gaze shifted slightly.

“Yes.”

“What was he like?”

Daniel looked toward the laptop where Michael’s photograph still glowed on the screen.

“He was the opposite of me.”

“How?”

“He trusted people.”

“And you don’t?”

“Not easily.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s practical.”

I walked over to the laptop and looked at the photograph again.

Michael Cole looked like someone who made people feel welcome instantly.

With out taking a second thought about any thing bad.

He has a way of getting what he wants and at the same time, you will never have in mind of what evil or bad ideas he may be having against you.

He is such a one who doesn't take a no for an answer in anything he does or sets his mind to get or achieve. He do go all out in pushing for an opportunity and must get it.

Warm.

Open.

“Who would want to hurt someone like that?” I whispered.

Daniel didn’t answer.

Then suddenly…

My phone buzzed again.

This time it wasn’t an unknown number.

It was a text message.

From a number neither of us recognized.

I opened it slowly.

One image appeared.

My blood turned cold.

It was an old photograph.

A much older one.

Taken maybe ten years ago.

Three people stood together in the picture.

A younger version of my uncle Samuel.

A man I didn’t recognize.

And…

Michael Cole.

Standing right beside them.

Smiling.

Like they were friends.

My hands started shaking.

“Daniel…”

He stepped closer.

“What is it?”

I turned the phone toward him.

His entire body went still.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered.

But the photo was clear.

Undeniable.

Michael Cole and Samuel Nwoye had known each other long before the accident.

Which meant one terrifying thing.

This was never a random tragedy.

It had been personal all along.