died.
I looked at Jonah.
“Why is my mother’s death connected to your uncle’s disappearance?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he took out his phone and called someone.
When the person answered, Jonah spoke in a low voice.
“It’s time. I need you to tell us what happened to Adrian.”
He listened for a moment.
Then his expression changed.
“What do you mean, he’s alive?”
My heart stopped.
Jonah ended the call and stared at me.
“My mother has been hiding someone for twenty-eight years.”
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“Your father.”
Two
hours later, we drove to a small house on the outskirts of the city.
An elderly woman opened the door.
Jonah introduced her as Margaret, his father’s former housekeeper.
She looked at me for a long moment before her eyes filled with tears.
“You have your mother’s face,” she whispered.
I couldn’t speak.
She led us into a small living room and locked the door behind us.
Then she told us the story our families had spent decades trying to bury.
Adrian had discovered that Daniel was stealing money from
