CHAPTER 15: THE WOMAN HE COULDN'T FORGET

The photograph on my phone made it impossible to look at Alexander Blackwood the same way again.

I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the words from the message.

You're already living in the house that destroyed him.

I wanted to ask Alexander what it meant. I wanted to demand answers about my father, the payment, and the old hotel incident. But I knew he would ask how I had found the document, and I wasn't ready to explain Jake's call.

Most of all, I wasn't ready to tell him that someone from my past might know more about his family than he did.

By breakfast, I had made one decision.

I would find out who Evelyn really was.

The mansion was unusually quiet that morning. Sunlight came through the tall dining room windows, falling across the polished table. Mrs. Collins was arranging fresh flowers in a glass vase when I entered.

“Good morning, Miss Carter.”

“Good morning.”

I sat down, but my eyes kept moving toward the empty chair at the head of the table.

“Mr. Blackwood left early,” Mrs. Collins said, noticing my glance. “He had a meeting at the office.”

I nodded and picked up my cup of tea.

There was something I wanted to ask her, but I wasn't sure how.

“Mrs. Collins?”

She turned.

“Yes?”

“Who was Evelyn?”

Her hands stopped moving.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet ticking of the clock.

“I believe Mr. Blackwood has already spoken to you about her.”

“He told me she disappeared. He didn't tell me who she was.”

Mrs. Collins carefully placed the flower scissors on the table.

“Evelyn was important to this family.”

“Important to Alexander?”

Her expression softened.

“More than you may understand.”

I waited, hoping she would say more.

Instead, she picked up the vase.

“Some memories are painful, Miss Carter. It is better to let Mr. Blackwood speak about them himself.”

She walked away before I could ask another question.

I finished breakfast without tasting anything.

Later that morning, I found myself outside the library.

The photograph of Evelyn had been removed from the shelf where I first saw it, but I remembered exactly where it had stood. I entered quietly, looking around the tall bookshelves and dark wooden furniture.

I wasn't sure what I expected to find.

Then I noticed a small wooden box on the lower shelf of a cabinet.

It was partly hidden behind several old books.

I pulled it out.

The lid was covered in dust, and a small silver letter was engraved on top.

E.

My heart beat faster.

I opened it.

Inside were several photographs, a folded piece of paper, and a silver necklace with a small star-shaped pendant.

The first photograph showed Evelyn standing beside Alexander in a garden. He looked younger, perhaps in his early twenties. His hair was longer, and he wore a rare, genuine smile.

Evelyn was laughing.

She had one hand resting on his shoulder, and he was looking at her as though nothing else in the world mattered.

I stared at the picture longer than I intended.

It was strange seeing him like that.

The Alexander I knew rarely smiled. He controlled every room he entered and seemed to believe that showing emotion was a weakness.

But the young man in the photograph looked completely different.

I turned over the picture.

Written in blue ink were the words:

For the boy who thinks he must carry the whole world alone. One day, let someone help you. Love, Evelyn.

My chest tightened.

There was another photograph beneath it.

This one showed Evelyn standing in front of the Blackwood Grand Hotel.

I leaned closer.

She was wearing a dark coat, her hair falling over one shoulder. Beside her stood a silver-haired man.

Richard Hale.

I recognized him immediately.

The same man I had seen dragged from the hotel room.

My fingers went cold.

Before I could examine the photograph further, a voice came from behind me.

“What are you doing?”

I nearly dropped it.

Alexander stood in the doorway.

He wore a dark charcoal suit, his tie slightly loosened, and his expression was colder than I had ever seen it.

His eyes moved from my face to the open box.

“Put it down.”

I slowly placed the photograph inside.

“I wasn't trying to steal anything.”

“You were looking through something that doesn't belong to you.”

“I wanted to understand.”

“Understanding isn't always necessary.”

I looked at him.

“Then why keep all of this hidden?”

His jaw tightened.

“Because it is mine.”

“Evelyn was more than just someone you knew.”

He walked into the room and closed the box.

“Don't.”

“Don't what? Ask questions?”

“Ask questions about things you cannot understand.”

His words stung more than I wanted to admit.

I folded my arms.

“You keep telling me that everyone around you is dangerous. Your brother, Richard, people from the company. But whenever I ask about Evelyn, you act as if I'm doing something terrible.”

“Because you don't know what you're asking.”

“Then tell me.”

He looked away.

For several seconds, he said nothing. His fingers rested on the wooden box, and I noticed how tightly he was holding its edge.

“She wasn't just someone I loved,” he finally said. “She was someone who believed in me before I had anything worth believing in.”

I didn't speak.

“She was different from the people around my family. She didn't care about the Blackwood name or the money. She challenged my father, questioned his decisions, and never pretended to agree with me just to keep me happy.”

A faint, bitter smile crossed his face.

“She used to tell me I was becoming exactly like the man I hated.”

“Your father?”

He nodded.

“Evelyn believed there was something wrong inside the company. She thought people were using it to hide things. Money, names, agreements. She kept telling me someone was lying.”

My stomach tightened.

“What did you do?”

“I told her she was worrying too much.”

He looked at the photographs.

“I thought I knew my family. I thought I could handle everything myself.”

“And then she disappeared.”

His face changed.

“Yes.”

The word was quiet.

I stepped closer, but not too close.

“Did you love her?”

He looked at me sharply.

“That isn't your concern.”

“Maybe not. But it matters if I'm living in a house where her memory controls every room.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Her memory doesn't control anything.”

“Then why are you so afraid to talk about her?”

For a moment, I thought he would order me out.

Instead, he looked toward the window.

“Because every time I talk about her, I remember the last thing she said to me.”

“What was it?”

He swallowed.

“She told me that one day I would have to choose between protecting my family and telling the truth.”

The room became painfully quiet.

“And you chose your family?” I asked.

“I chose what I believed was right.”

“Was it?”

His eyes returned to mine.

“I don't know anymore.”

It was the closest thing to an honest answer I had ever heard from him.

I looked down at the box again.

“Was she at the Blackwood Grand Hotel with Richard?”

Alexander's expression changed immediately.

“Why would you ask that?”

I pointed toward the photograph.

He picked it up, studying it carefully.

“I've never seen this picture before.”

“Maybe she was helping him.”

“Richard worked for my father. Evelyn had no reason to be involved with him.”

“Unless she knew something.”

Alexander placed the photograph back in the box.

“That's enough, Amelia.”

But I couldn't stop.

“Did she ever tell you she was afraid of someone?”

His face became still.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“She wouldn't say.”

I remembered the recording.

Don't trust your brother.

And suddenly, the pieces seemed closer together.

“Alexander, I think Evelyn knew something about what happened to Richard.”

He stared at me.

“What makes you think that?”

I hesitated.

I couldn't tell him about Jake yet. Not without revealing the document.

“Because she was photographed with him. And because you said she believed something was wrong inside the company.”

He studied my face, clearly sensing I wasn't telling him everything.

“You're hiding something.”

“So are you.”

His eyes hardened.

Before he could answer, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I took it out.

A message from Jake.

I found another photograph. Evelyn wasn't just meeting Richard. She was holding a document with your father's signature.

A second message followed.

Look at the back of the picture. You'll understand why she disappeared.

My breath caught.

There was an attachment.

I opened it.

The photograph showed Evelyn outside the Blackwood Grand Hotel, standing beside Richard Hale. In her hand was a folded document.

On its visible corner was a signature I recognized from the old family papers at home.

Thomas Carter.

But the words written beneath the photograph were what truly frightened me.

Evelyn Blackwood and Thomas Carter final meeting before the transfer.

I slowly raised my eyes to Alexander.

He was watching me.

“Who sent that message?” he asked.

I couldn't answer.

For the first time, I understood that Evelyn's disappearance might not have been a separate tragedy in Alexander's life.

She might have been involved in my father's secret.

And if she had been the last person to meet him before the money was transferred, then the woman Alexander had spent fifteen years grieving could be the only person who knew why my father died.

Unless someone had already found her.

And silenced her.