CHAPTER 4: The Photograph

I couldn't stop thinking about Richard Hale. "You look just like your mother." His words stayed in my mind the entire night. How did he know my mother? Why had my father looked uncomfortable when Richard said those words? And why did Richard smile like he knew a secret that I didn't? Nothing about that meeting felt normal. Something was wrong. And for the first time in my life, I wanted answers more than I feared my father.

The next morning, Sterling Mansion felt different. It was quieter than usual,,, too quiet. Extra security guards stood outside every entrance, watching every hallway. Every visitor had to be checked. Even the maids whispered instead of talking normally. It felt less like a home and more like a prison.

I slowly walked downstairs. The dining room was already prepared. The long table was covered with expensive food, fresh fruit, bread, eggs, and coffee, but no one was eating. My father sat at the head of the table, reading the newspaper. Without looking up, he spoke. "Good morning, Lillian." "Morning." A maid pulled out my chair. I sat down quietly. For several moments, only the sound of cups and plates filled the room.

Then my father folded the newspaper. He looked directly at me. "You didn't sleep well." "I slept fine." "You've never been good at lying" I looked away. "I was just tired." "No." His voice stayed calm. "You've been thinking." I almost laughed. "As if that's a crime." His face remained serious. "It depends on what you're thinking about."

I picked up my coffee. "I'm thinking about Richard Hale." The room suddenly became silent. Even the maid pouring juice froze for a second before quickly continuing. My father calmly placed his cup on the table. "What about him?" "Who is he?" "I already told you. A business partner." "That's not enough." "It should be." I shook my head. "He knew my mother." "So?" "So why have I never heard his name before?" "There are many people you've never heard about." "He said I look just like her."

My father sighed. "He shouldn't have said that." "So he did know her." He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked out the window. "Your mother met many important people." "I want the truth." "You don't need the truth." I felt my patience disappear. "That's always your answer." "Because it's the safest answer." "No." I stood up. "It's the easiest answer." Without waiting for permission, I walked out. Behind me, I heard my father call "Lillian but I kept walking for once… I wasn't going to obey.

Instead of returning to my room, I headed toward the private medical wing. The guards outside Ethan's room recognized me. One stepped forward. "Miss Sterling." "I just want to see him." "We were told, I know what you were told. "I smiled politely. "It won't take long." The guards looked at each other. Finally, one of them stepped aside. I quietly opened the door.

Ethan stood near the window, sunlight shining across his face. He wasn't wearing a hospital gown anymore, instead, he had on a fitted black shirt. The bandage around his side was hidden beneath it, but I could still tell every movement caused him pain. He turned when he heard the door. "You shouldn’t be here, I smiled. "You always say that." "And you never listen." "I've never been very good at following orders." "I noticed."

For a second, the corner of his mouth lifted almost a smile. Almost. I couldn't help smiling too. "You look better." "I've looked worse." "The doctors said you should still be resting." "They say a lot of things." "You really don't like hospitals." "I've spent enough time in them." His answer made me wonder how many injuries he'd suffered before meeting me. Probably more than I wanted to imagine.

I stepped closer. "You scared me that night." "I know." "You almost died." "So did you." His answer left me speechless. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt peaceful until I remembered why I came.

"My father had a visitor yesterday." Ethan looked at me. "Who?" "Richard Hale." Everything changed. His shoulders became stiff. His face lost all color. "What did you say?" "Richard Hale." His breathing slowed. "When?" "Last night." He took two quick steps toward me. "Are you sure?" "Yes." "What did he want?" "I don't know." "Did he touch you?" "No." "Did he give you anything?" "No." "What exactly did he say?" "He looked at me and said…" I swallowed. "'You look just like your mother.'"

Ethan closed his eyes. For a second, he looked like someone had punched him. His breathing became heavy. "Ethan?" He didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the small drawer beside his bed and opened it slowly. Inside was an old brown envelope. His hands shook as he pulled something out—an old photograph with torn edges, faded with age. He handed it to me. "There are three men in this picture."

I looked down. Three young men stood side by side, all smiling like close friends. The first face was easy to recognize my father, younger but unmistakable. The second man made my stomach tighten, Richard Hale. I slowly looked at the third man, something about him felt familiar kind eyes, dark hair, and a gentle smile. I looked back at Ethan. "Who is he?" His voice became very quiet. "My father."

I stared at him. "What?" "Our fathers knew each other." I looked at the photograph again. "They were friends?" "They started a company together." "What happened?" His jaw tightened. "I don't know." "You never asked?" "I asked." "And?" "No one would answer."

I looked back at the smiling faces. Three friends. Now only two remained. "What happened to your father?" Ethan looked away. "He died." "I'm sorry." "He died believing his friends had betrayed him. " The room suddenly felt colder. "Do you think my father betrayed him?" "I don't know. But I'm going to find out”, his voice was calm, too calm. Like someone making a promise.

Before I could ask another question, the door suddenly burst open. Marcus rushed inside, his breathing fast, his face was completely pale. "Mr. Knight," Ethan turned immediately. "What happened?" Marcus looked at me before speaking. "The old warehouse." Ethan's eyes narrowed. "What about it?" Marcus swallowed. "The police searched it this morning. They found a body." Silence filled the room. Ethan slowly and took one step forward. "Who?" Marcus lowered his head. "They believe…" His voice shook. "…it's connected to Sarah Knight."

The photograph slipped from Ethan's hand and hit the floor. Neither of us moved. For the first time, I saw real fear in Ethan's eyes, not fear for himself. Fear of the truth. And deep inside me, I knew one thing. Whatever secret had been buried for all these years… it had finally begun to rise.