CHAPTER THREE
1361 Words
THE PEOPLE IN THE PICTURE
Vincent didn't move.
He looked at his father.
Then at his uncle.
Then back at the photograph in his hand.
"Everyone?"
His father's eyes remained on the picture.
"Give it to me."
Vincent didn't.
"What do you mean everyone in it was supposed to be dead?"
His uncle stepped forward.
"Vincent, give me the photograph."
"No."
His voice was calm, but there was something hard behind it.
His father slowly sat down.
For a man who had spent most of Vincent's life being the strongest person in every room, he suddenly looked old.
Tired.
Afraid.
Vincent had never seen him like that.
"Who are they?" Vincent asked.
His father looked at him.
"You know who they are."
"I was a child."
"You were old enough to remember."
"I remember the house."
His father said nothing.
"I remember the woman."
His voice became quieter.
"The nanny."
His uncle looked away.
Vincent noticed.
"And the man," he continued. "My father's assistant."
His father closed his eyes.
Vincent's grip tightened around the photograph.
"What happened to them?"
No one answered.
That silence told him more than words could.
He stepped back.
"You've known."
His father looked at him.
"Known what?"
"That I didn't forget."
His father slowly stood.
"Vincent, some things are better left alone."
Vincent laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"That's what everyone says when they're hiding something."
His uncle's face hardened.
"Watch your mouth."
Vincent turned toward him.
"You knew about this."
"I said watch your mouth."
"And you knew."
The two men stared at each other.
For a few seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Vincent's father said,
"Go upstairs."
Vincent looked at him.
"I'm not a child."
"I know."
"Then stop treating me like one."
His father looked away.
Vincent slipped the photograph into his pocket.
"I'm keeping this."
His uncle stepped forward.
"You can't."
Vincent looked at him.
"Try to stop me."
He walked out.
Behind him, his father said his name.
Vincent didn't turn around.
Lila woke up before her alarm the next morning.
She lay still for a few seconds.
Something had disturbed her sleep, but she couldn't remember what.
She sat up.
Her room was quiet.
She looked at the time.
6:12 a.m.
"Too early."
She dropped back onto the pillow.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Mia.
Are you coming to class today?
Lila smiled.
She typed back.
Obviously.
Another message came immediately.
Good. I have something to tell you.
Lila frowned.
What?
Mia didn't reply.
Lila stared at the screen.
"Of course."
She tossed the phone aside and got out of bed.
At breakfast, Brian wasn't there.
Lila noticed immediately.
His chair was empty.
She looked toward the kitchen.
"Has Brian left?"
The housekeeper shook her head.
"He left very early."
"Did he say where he was going?"
"No."
Lila picked up her phone.
She called him.
No answer.
She tried again.
Nothing.
She frowned.
Brian wasn't the kind of person who ignored her calls.
At least, not without a reason.
She sent him a message.
Call me when you can.
Then she left.
Ivy College was already busy when Lila arrived.
Students rushed across the courtyard.
Cars pulled up near the main entrance.
Someone was arguing with a security guard.
Everything looked normal.
But something felt different.
Lila couldn't explain it.
She found Mia near the stairs.
The moment Mia saw her, she grabbed her arm.
"Come."
"Where?"
"Just come."
Lila followed her.
They stopped behind one of the buildings.
Mia looked around.
"Don't tell anyone I told you this."
Lila crossed her arms.
"Now I'm interested."
"You remember Vincent?"
Lila's face changed slightly.
"Yes."
Mia lowered her voice.
"Something happened at the Kane house last night."
"What?"
"I don't know exactly."
"Then what are you telling me?"
Mia looked annoyed.
"Let me finish."
Lila waited.
"Someone said there was a police car there."
Lila frowned.
"At his house?"
"Yes."
"Maybe something happened."
"Exactly."
"So?"
Mia looked at her carefully.
"You're not curious?"
"Not really."
Mia stared at her.
"Lila."
"What?"
"You looked at him yesterday."
"So?"
"Don't tell me you didn't notice him."
"I noticed everyone noticed him."
Mia smiled.
"That's not what I mean."
Lila rolled her eyes.
"Can we please talk about something else?"
Before Mia could answer, a car passed them.
Lila recognized it.
The black SUV.
Vincent stepped out.
He looked different today.
There was no careless confidence in his face.
No hint of amusement.
He looked angry.
A man in a suit followed him.
They spoke quietly.
Vincent said something.
The man shook his head.
Vincent walked away.
As he passed the building, his eyes briefly moved toward Lila.
This time, he stopped.
Their eyes met.
Lila didn't know why she suddenly felt uncomfortable.
Vincent looked at her for a moment longer than he should have.
Then he walked inside.
Mia whispered,
"See?"
"See what?"
"He looked at you."
Lila shook her head.
"You're imagining things."
"Maybe."
Mia smiled.
"But I don't think so."
Vincent entered the lecture hall.
He sat at the back.
His phone was on the desk.
Three missed calls.
All from his father.
He ignored them.
The photograph was still in his jacket.
He had looked at it several times since leaving home.
There was one thing he couldn't stop thinking about.
The woman in the picture.
He remembered her voice.
He remembered the way she used to call him by his childhood nickname.
He remembered her making him breakfast when his mother was away.
He remembered the man too.
Quiet.
Always carrying papers.
Always following his father around.
Vincent rubbed his forehead.
He had been told they died years ago.
So why had his father said they were supposed to be dead?
And who had sent him the photograph?
His phone vibrated again.
A message appeared.
You should stop asking questions.
Vincent stared at it.
Another message came.
You already lost once. Don't make the same mistake twice.
His eyes narrowed.
He looked around the room.
Students were talking.
Nobody appeared to be watching him.
He typed:
Who are you?
The reply came almost immediately.
Ask your father.
Vincent's jaw tightened.
He deleted the messages.
Then he looked toward the doorway.
Lila had just entered.
She was laughing at something Mia had said.
For some reason, his eyes stayed on her.
He didn't know why.
Maybe it was curiosity.
Maybe it was nothing.
Then Lila turned.
Their eyes met again.
She smiled politely.
Vincent looked away.
But something about that smile stayed with him.
That evening, Brian finally returned home.
Lila was sitting on the sofa.
The moment she saw him, she stood.
"Where have you been?"
Brian took off his jacket.
"Out."
"You didn't answer my calls."
"I was busy."
"Doing what?"
He looked at her.
"Why are you asking so many questions?"
"Because you're my brother."
Brian walked past her.
Lila followed.
"Brian."
He stopped.
She noticed a small cut on his knuckles.
Her expression changed.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
"That's blood."
Brian looked at his hand.
"It's not mine."
Lila stared at him.
"What?"
He immediately walked away.
"Go to bed, Lila."
She stood there.
Something was wrong.
She knew it.
But before she could follow him, his phone rang.
Brian answered.
"Yes?"
Lila couldn't hear the other person.
But she saw her brother's face change.
His eyes moved toward her.
Then he turned away.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Are you sure?"
Another pause.
Brian's grip tightened around the phone.
"Don't touch anything. I'm coming."
He ended the call.
Lila looked at him.
"What's happening?"
Brian didn't answer.
He grabbed his keys.
"Stay here."
"Brian—"
"Stay here, Lila."
He opened the door.
Before leaving, he looked back at her.
For the first time, Lila saw something she had never seen in his eyes before.
Fear.
Then the door closed.
Lila stood alone in the living room.
A few seconds later, her phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Unknown number.
One message.
You should ask your brother what happened the night your parents died.
Lila's fingers went cold.
She read the message again.
Then another message appeared.
Because he never told you the whole truth.
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