Never please anyone

Chapter#4

THE MAN WHO KNEW HER PAST

Chapter 4:

Amara barely slept that night.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the photograph of her father sitting with a little girl in a pink dress. Beside them stood Daniel Khumalo, a man she had only recently begun to know.

She could still hear her father's words in her mind.

There is one person who knows the full story. You have met him before.

Daniel.

Why had he never told her that he knew her father?

And what did her father mean when he called Daniel his son?

At seven the next morning, Amara was already dressed. She wore black jeans, a cream sweater, and comfortable shoes. She put the photograph and her father's letters into her handbag before leaving her apartment.

She was nervous, but she refused to let fear control her.

She had spent too many years accepting whatever people told her.

Today, she wanted the truth.

Even if it hurt.

The old house stood on the edge of town, surrounded by overgrown grass and a rusty fence. Its windows were dusty, and the paint on the walls had begun to peel.

Amara had never been there before.

She checked the address Daniel had sent her and compared it with the number on the gate.

It was the right place.

She pushed the gate open.

It creaked loudly, making her pause.

"Daniel?" she called.

No answer.

She walked toward the front door and knocked twice.

A moment later, the door opened.

Daniel stood before her wearing a grey sweater and dark trousers. His usual warm smile was missing.

"Thank you for coming," he said.

Amara folded her arms.

"I almost didn't."

"I understand."

"No, Daniel. I don't think you do."

He stepped aside to let her enter.

The house smelled of dust and old wood. A thin layer of sunlight passed through the curtains, illuminating a small sitting room filled with forgotten furniture.

Amara looked around.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Daniel closed the door.

"Because this is where your father worked."

She turned sharply.

"My father worked here?"

"Yes. He was a business partner of the man who owned this property."

"Mr. Radebe?"

Daniel nodded.

Amara felt a knot form in her stomach.

"So you know him too?"

"Unfortunately."

She pulled the photograph from her handbag and held it up.

"Then explain this."

Daniel looked at the photograph.

His expression changed immediately.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

"Where did you get that?" he finally asked.

"From my mother's bedroom. My father wrote a message on the back."

She turned the photograph around and showed him the words.

Daniel closed his eyes.

"I was afraid this day would come."

Amara stared at him.

"Afraid of what?"

He sat down on an old chair and rubbed his hands together.

"My father and your father were business partners. They started a company together many years ago. They trusted each other, and for a while, everything was going well."

"What happened?"

"Money disappeared. Important documents went missing. Your father was blamed, and the partnership fell apart."

Amara shook her head.

"My father would never steal."

"I know."

"Then why was he blamed?"

"Because someone made sure the evidence pointed toward him."

Amara's heart began to pound.

"Who?"

Daniel looked at her.

"Mr. Radebe."

She took a step backward.

The man who had stood outside her mother's house was responsible for destroying her father's reputation?

"Did my father know?"

"Yes. He discovered that money had been moved from the company without his permission. He tried to prove what had happened, but he couldn't get the documents he needed."

"Why didn't he go to the police?"

"He wanted to protect your family. He thought he could settle everything privately."

Amara felt anger rise inside her.

"Protect us from what? We lived with people believing he was a thief!"

Daniel lowered his head.

"You're right. He made mistakes. He should have told the truth before things became so complicated."

She looked away, trying to control her emotions.

All her life, her mother had taught her to protect the family name. Yet the very people who had supposedly protected it had left her with unanswered questions and painful memories.

"What happened before he died?" she asked.

Daniel hesitated.

"I don't know everything."

"Then tell me what you do know."

He reached into his bag and removed a brown envelope.

"I found this among my father's belongings after he died. I recognised your father's name, but I didn't know how to contact you. When I saw you at the café a few months ago, I realised who you were."

Amara stared at him.

"You knew who I was when we first met?"

"Not immediately. I remembered your surname, then I remembered the photograph. I needed time to be certain."

"And you said nothing?"

"I wanted to understand what was inside the envelope before involving you."

She felt betrayed.

"Do you know what my life has been like? Everyone seems to know something about me except me!"

"I'm sorry, Amara."

She looked at him, searching for the same excuses she had heard from everyone else.

But Daniel did not try to defend himself.

He simply sat there, looking genuinely ashamed.

"I should have told you sooner," he continued. "I was afraid that bringing up the past would hurt you."

Amara gave a bitter smile.

"People always say they're protecting me when they're actually protecting themselves."

Daniel looked down.

"Maybe you're right."

His answer surprised her.

She had expected an argument. Instead, he accepted her anger without trying to make her feel guilty for expressing it.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Daniel held out the envelope.

"This belongs to you."

Amara took it carefully.

Inside was a photocopy of a company account statement, several handwritten notes, and a letter addressed to her father.

She read the letter.

We cannot continue like this. The money must be returned before anyone discovers what has happened. I have done everything you asked, but I will not allow you to destroy another family.

There was no signature.

Only a date.

Three days before her father's death.

Amara's fingers went cold.

"Who wrote this?"

Daniel shook his head.

"I don't know. The original signature was missing from the copy I found."

She examined the account statement.

Several large payments had been made from the company account. Beside each payment was a handwritten note containing the initials R.D.

"Radebe Dlamini?" she whispered.

"Possibly," Daniel replied. "But initials aren't proof. We need the original records before accusing anyone."

Amara looked at him.

For the first time since the previous evening, she felt something other than pain.

She felt determination.

"Then we'll find them."

Daniel nodded.

"I'll help you."

She studied his face.

"Why?"

"Because your father deserved justice."

"Is that the only reason?"

Daniel hesitated.

"No."

Amara's heart skipped.

He looked away, almost embarrassed.

"Because I care about you too."

The words were simple, but they caught her off guard.

She had spent years with a man who used beautiful promises to hide ugly truths. Daniel was offering her something different: honesty, even when it made him uncomfortable.

She didn't know whether she was ready to trust him.

But she wanted to believe that not everyone would hurt her.

"Daniel," she said softly, "I don't want another person making decisions for me."

"I won't."

"And I don't want someone who thinks loving me means controlling me."

"I would never ask you to become someone else just to keep me happy."

She looked at him for a long moment.

Then, despite everything, she smiled.

It was small and uncertain, but it was real.

Daniel smiled back.

For a few seconds, the room felt less cold.

Then Amara remembered the photograph.

"There's something else I need to understand."

She placed it between them.

"My father called you his son. Are you his biological son?"

Daniel stared at the picture.

"No."

"Then why did he call you that?"

He took a slow breath.

"Because when I was a child, your father helped my mother and me when we had nowhere else to go. My biological father had abandoned us. Your father became the closest thing I had to a father."

Amara's expression softened.

"He never told me that."

"He probably wanted to protect both of us from the problems between our families."

She looked down at the photograph.

For the first time, she understood that her father might have been carrying more burdens than she had ever imagined.

But one question remained.

"Daniel, did my father know he was going to die?"

Daniel's face became serious.

"I don't know."

"Then why did he write those letters?"

"I've asked myself the same question for years."

Amara slipped the documents back into the envelope.

She had come looking for a simple answer. Instead, she had discovered a hidden business scandal, a possible cover-up, and a man who seemed to know more about her past than she did.

She walked toward the door.

Daniel followed her.

"Amara?"

She turned.

"Yes?"

"Whatever you discover, please don't let revenge become the only thing that matters to you."

She remembered her father's letter.

Never allow your desire for revenge to turn you into the very people who hurt you.

"I can't promise that," she admitted. "Not yet."

Daniel nodded.

"That's fair."

He opened the door for her.

As she stepped outside, he called her name again.

She turned around.

"I know you have every reason not to trust people right now," he said. "But you don't have to face everything alone."

Amara wanted to believe him.

She really did.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Then she walked away.

That evening, Amara sat at her kitchen table, studying the documents Daniel had given her.

She wrote down the names of everyone connected to her father's old company.

Mr. Radebe.

Her mother.

Her father.

And a name she had not heard in years.

Dlamini.

She stared at it.

Lerato's surname was Dlamini.

Could it be a coincidence?

There were many people with that surname. She reminded herself not to jump to conclusions.

Still, she couldn't ignore the possibility.

Her phone rang.

It was Lerato.

Amara watched it vibrate until the call ended.

A moment later, a message arrived.

Please, Amara. We need to talk. I know I hurt you, but there is something I haven't told you about Thabo.

Amara's jaw tightened.

She typed a reply.

I don't want to hear another excuse.

Lerato responded immediately.

It's not an excuse. Thabo wasn't the only person involved. Someone paid him to stay close to you.

Amara stopped moving.

She read the message again.

Someone had paid Thabo to stay close to her?

Why?

Before she could reply, another message arrived.

I didn't know what they wanted from you until I found the photograph.

Amara's heart hammered against her ribs.

What photograph? she typed.

There was a long pause.

Then Lerato sent one final message.

The photograph of your father and Daniel. Amara, your father didn't just leave behind a company scandal. He left something valuable, and everyone believes you know where it is.

Amara stared at the screen.

She had no idea what her father had left behind.

But suddenly, her failed relationship no longer felt like the centre of the story.

Thabo might have been more than an unfaithful boyfriend.

Lerato might have been more than a jealous best friend.

And someone had been watching her long before she ever began asking questions.

She stood up and locked her apartment door.

Then she returned to the table and looked at her father's photograph.

A strange feeling settled over her.

She was no longer simply searching for the truth about her father's death.

She was searching for the truth about herself.

And somewhere in the middle of it all was a secret powerful enough to make the people around her lie, betray, and perhaps even kill.

Amara picked up her pen and wrote one sentence at the top of a fresh page.

I will discover the truth, but I will never again lose myself trying to please anyone.

She underlined it twice.

Then her phone vibrated one last time.

An unknown number.

Stop asking questions about your father. The next person who gets hurt will be Daniel.

Amara's blood ran cold.

She immediately called Daniel.

He didn't answer.

She called again.

Nothing.

Then she remembered the old house, the dark windows, and the documents he had given her.

For the first time, she was afraid that her search for the truth might cost her the one person who had treated her heart with kindness.

She grabbed her keys and rushed toward the door.

She had no idea what awaited her.

But she knew she couldn't ignore the warning.

Not when Daniel's life might be in danger.

End of Chapter 4