The Past Came Back

Three weeks after Adrian proposed to me, I began to understand that happiness did not mean life would suddenly become easy. There were still difficult days scattered throughout, still memories I had not completely healed from, still moments when I woke in the middle of the night and remembered Victor, my father’s death, and all the years I had spent believing in lies I didn’t even know were lies. But those memories no longer controlled me the way they once had. I had learned how to face them instead of running from them.

I was sitting in my office one Monday morning when my assistant walked in carrying a large envelope. “This was delivered for you,” she said.

I looked at it carefully. There was no name written anywhere on it. “Who brought it?”

“A courier.”

“Did they give you a name at all?”

She shook her head.

I opened it carefully, and inside was a single photograph. My heart stopped the moment I saw it. It showed my father standing beside a young woman, and I recognized her immediately. It was Sophia, Victor’s former fiancée. I stared at the photograph for a long moment, wondering why my father would ever have a picture with her. I turned it over and found a message written on the back. Ask Sophia what happened the night your father died. My stomach tightened painfully.

I called Adrian right away, and he answered on the second ring.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I found something.”

His voice turned serious immediately. “What?”

“I received a photograph of my father and Sophia.”

There was a heavy silence on the line. “Where are you?”

“My office.”

“I’m coming.”

He arrived twenty minutes later, and I handed him the photograph without a word. He studied it carefully. “Where did you get this?”

“It was delivered this morning.”

He looked at the message written on the back. “Did anyone see who delivered it?”

“My assistant said it was just a courier.”

Adrian looked up at me. “We need to find Sophia.”

“I know.”

We located her later that same afternoon, living quietly outside the city in a small apartment. When she opened the door and saw my face, something shifted in her expression. “Elena.”

“You know why I’m here.”

She glanced at Adrian, then stepped aside to let us in. “Come in.”

We entered the small apartment, and Sophia sat down across from us. I placed the photograph on the table between us. “What happened that night?”

She looked down at the picture for a long moment. “I knew your father.”

“How?”

“He helped my family years ago, before any of this happened.”

“Why were you with him in this photo?”

Sophia took a deep breath before answering. “Because I went to warn him about something.”

“About what?”

“Victor.”

My heart tightened at the name. “What did Victor do?”

“He was planning something with your uncle.”

I glanced at Adrian, then back at her. She continued speaking. “Victor had discovered that your father kept copies of the financial records outside the company entirely.”

“The records we eventually found?”

“Yes.”

“Why did he want them so badly?”

“Because they could expose everything he was involved in.”

I felt anger rising up inside me. “Then why did you marry into his family at all?”

“I didn’t marry him.”

“You were engaged to him.”

“I was forced into it.”

I stared at her, confused. “By whom?”

“Victor’s father.”

“Why would he force you?”

“Because my family owed him a great deal of money.”

Sophia looked down at her hands. “He told me that if I refused to marry Victor, my family would lose everything they had.”

I had never imagined anything like that. For years I had looked at Sophia as the woman who had taken the man I loved away from me. Now I was seeing another woman entirely, one who had been trapped by that same man in her own way.

“Did you love Victor?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then why did you stay with him?”

“Because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.”

I looked away from her, because her answer reminded me painfully of my own past. Fear had controlled all of us in different ways, it seemed, each of us trapped by the same people for our own reasons.

“What happened the night my father died?” I finally asked.

Sophia’s eyes filled with tears. “I went to meet him.”

“Where?”

“At the old warehouse.”

My heart began beating faster. “Was Victor there with you?”

“No.”

“Then who was?”

Sophia hesitated for a long moment. “Your mother.”

I froze completely. “My mother was there?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She was trying to convince your father to leave the city with you both.”

“Did they argue about it?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

Sophia looked over at Adrian before continuing. “Your father received a phone call while we were there.”

“From whom?”

“I don’t know who it was. But he became frightened almost immediately.”

“What did he say?”

“He told your mother to take you and leave right away, without waiting.”

I swallowed hard. “What happened next?”

Sophia looked down at her hands again. “I heard a gunshot.”

My entire body went cold at once. “Did you see who fired it?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know my father actually died?”

“I saw him lying on the ground afterward.”

Tears filled my eyes as she spoke. “What did my mother do?”

“She ran toward him immediately.”

I closed my eyes, trying to picture it. “And then?”

“Your mother looked at me and told me to leave right away.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She said there were people coming.”

I looked at Adrian helplessly. “Who?”

Sophia shook her head. “I don’t know who she meant.”

I sat there in silence for a long moment. For years I had believed my father died completely alone. Now I knew my mother had been there the entire time. She had watched him die in front of her. She had tried to protect me in the only way she knew how. And Sophia had witnessed part of it happen with her own eyes.

I looked at her. “Why did you never tell anyone this?”

She gave a bitter smile. “Who would have believed me?”

I understood immediately what she meant. Victor’s family had money. They had influence over everyone around them. They could make the truth disappear entirely if they wanted to.

I stood up. “Thank you for telling me all of this.”

Sophia looked up at me. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For what happened between you and Victor.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t destroy my relationship with him.”

She looked surprised by that. “Victor did that himself.”

We left the apartment together, and outside, Adrian took my hand in his. “You’re quiet,” he said.

“I’m thinking.”

“About your father?”

“Yes.”

“And Sophia too?”

“Yes.”

I stopped walking suddenly. “Adrian, there’s something I don’t understand.”

“What is it?”

“If my mother was there when my father died, why did she disappear afterward?”

He looked at me. “I don’t know.”

“And why did my father tell her to take me away in the first place?”

“We need to ask her directly.”

I nodded. “I will.”

We returned home that evening, and my mother was already waiting for me there. The moment she saw my face, she seemed to know instantly.

“You found out,” she said quietly.

I stopped in the doorway. “You were there that night.”

She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

“Why did you never tell me any of this?”

“Because your father made me promise not to.”

I shook my head. “Everyone keeps making promises that end up destroying me.”

She walked toward me slowly. “I was only trying to protect you.”

“You always say that.”

“I know.”

“Did my father die because of you somehow?”

She looked genuinely shocked by the question. “No.”

“Then what actually happened?”

My mother began crying. “Your father was still alive when I left him.”

I froze in place. “What?”

“He was injured badly, but he was still alive.”

My heart stopped completely. “Then how did he die?”

She looked at me helplessly. “I don’t know.”

I stepped back from her. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I left because your father ordered me to take you away immediately.”

“Where did you go?”

“I took you to my sister’s house that night.”

“And when you returned?”

“He was already gone.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Then who took my father?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know that either.”

Adrian suddenly turned toward the window, his body going tense. “What is it?” I asked.

He pointed outside without a word. A black car was parked across the street, and I watched it for several long seconds. Then the door opened and a man stepped out, looking directly toward our house.

My mother suddenly grabbed my arm, and her face went completely pale. I had never seen her look so frightened in all the time I had known her.

“Who is that?” I asked.

She whispered a name I didn’t recognize at first. “Your father’s best friend.”

My heart stopped cold. “He died twenty years ago.”

My mother shook her head slowly. “No, he didn’t.” She looked at me with tears streaming down her face. “He was the man who took your father away that night.”