BETWEEN HEAVEN AND FORBIDDEN Love

chapter 10

The rain had begun before sunset.

By nine o'clock, it had become a steady curtain of water that blurred the lights outside the Hathaway house. Rain struck the tall windows, slid down the glass, and gathered along the stone paths that crossed the enormous garden.

Inside, however, the house was strangely quiet.

Mrs. Hathaway had gone upstairs.

Anna was in her bedroom, sitting beside the window with her Bible open on her knees. She had been reading for almost half an hour, but her thoughts kept wandering.

There was something different about the house tonight.

She couldn't explain it.

Maybe it was the weather.

Maybe it was the silence.

Or maybe it was the way her father had behaved during dinner.

Mr. Hathaway had barely spoken.

Usually, dinner at the Hathaway home was lively. Mrs. Hathaway would ask about their day, Anna would talk about school, and Lucio would occasionally make some sarcastic comment that made Anna laugh.

Tonight, their father had hardly touched his food.

He had kept looking toward the windows.

As though he were expecting someone.

Anna closed her Bible.

She thought about the sermon from the previous Sunday and the words that had stayed with her ever since: sometimes truth was frightening, but hiding from it did not make it disappear.

She wondered whether that was what was happening in their home.

Downstairs, a door closed.

Anna looked toward her bedroom door.

She heard footsteps.

Then silence.

She stood.

"Lucio?"

No answer.

She stepped into the hallway.

The lights were dim, and the rain outside cast moving shadows across the walls.

She walked toward the staircase.

Halfway there, she heard her father's voice.

"Nobody must know."

Anna froze.

Her father was speaking from his study.

There was another voice, but it was too quiet for her to understand.

She moved closer.

"Michael..."

Her mother's voice.

Anna frowned.

Why was her mother in the study?

She approached the door but stopped before reaching it.

"After all these years," Mrs. Hathaway whispered, "you still haven't told me everything."

There was a long silence.

"I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

Anna's heart began beating faster.

She should have walked away.

Instead, she remained there.

Then her father spoke.

"From my father."

Anna's eyes widened.

His father?

She had heard very little about her grandfather.

As far as Anna knew, Mr. Hathaway's father had disappeared when he was young. It had always been presented as a sad family story, something nobody liked discussing.

She had never imagined there was more to it.

She leaned slightly toward the door.

Then it opened.

Anna jumped backward.

Her father stood in front of her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Mr. Hathaway looked surprised.

Then his expression hardened.

"Anna."

"Dad."

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard voices."

Her father glanced toward the study.

"Go back to your room."

"Dad, what were you talking about?"

"Nothing."

Anna stared at him.

"Nothing?"

"Yes."

"You were talking about Grandpa."

Her father's face changed.

Only for a second.

But Anna noticed.

"You heard that?"

"Yes."

Mr. Hathaway sighed.

"Anna, there are things about my past that you don't understand."

"Then explain them."

"Not tonight."

"Why?"

"Because you're not ready."

Anna felt a flash of frustration.

"How do you know what I'm ready for?"

Her father looked at her for several seconds.

Then he said quietly, "Because I know what happens when people learn things before they're prepared to carry them."

Anna didn't understand.

Before she could ask another question, footsteps sounded on the staircase.

Lucio appeared.

He looked from Anna to their father.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Mr. Hathaway said.

Lucio immediately looked suspicious.

Anna crossed her arms.

"Dad was talking about Grandpa."

Lucio's expression changed.

"Our grandfather?"

Mr. Hathaway looked at both children.

"Go upstairs."

"Dad—"

"Now."

His voice was firmer this time.

Anna reluctantly turned away.

Lucio remained for a moment.

He looked at his father carefully.

"You look scared."

Mr. Hathaway said nothing.

Lucio followed Anna upstairs.

But neither sibling went to bed.

---

In the study, Mr. Hathaway closed the door.

He stood with his back against it.

For a moment, he simply breathed.

Then he walked toward his desk.

The letter was still there.

He picked it up.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

He remembered being seventeen years old and standing at the front door of his childhood home while his mother cried.

He remembered the police.

The questions.

The neighbors whispering.

His father's empty room.

His clothes still hanging in the wardrobe.

His favorite watch lying on the bedside table.

And the photograph.

That photograph had been the last thing Mr. Hathaway had ever seen of his father.

At least, that was what he had believed.

He sat down.

The memories returned more clearly now.

His father had not been an ordinary man.

He had been intelligent, influential, and secretive.

He knew people his family never met.

People who arrived at the house late at night.

People who spoke quietly in the hallway.

People who sometimes made his father angry.

Mr. Hathaway had been too young to understand.

But he remembered one particular night.

His father had entered his bedroom.

Michael had been seventeen.

His father had looked exhausted.

"Michael," he had said, "if something happens to me, you must take care of your mother."

Young Michael had laughed nervously.

"Why are you talking like that?"

His father hadn't laughed.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

His father had placed a hand on his shoulder.

"And never trust anyone who tells you they know where I am."

The next morning, he disappeared.

No goodbye.

No explanation.

Nothing.

For years, Michael had believed that his father had been killed.

Then, sometime later, his mother received a message.

It contained only three words:

Forget that I exist.

After that, there was nothing.

Until tonight.

Mr. Hathaway looked down at the letter.

I am still alive.

His hands trembled.

A knock sounded.

He quickly folded the letter.

"Who is it?"

"Michael."

His wife.

He opened the door.

Mrs. Hathaway entered.

She looked concerned.

"You lied to Anna."

"I know."

"And to Lucio."

"I know."

"You told me years ago that your father was dead."

Mr. Hathaway looked away.

"I thought he was."

"But now?"

He said nothing.

Mrs. Hathaway stepped closer.

"Michael, what does this mean?"

He finally looked at her.

"It means my father has found us."

She stared at him.

"What?"

"He sent me a letter."

Mrs. Hathaway's face went pale.

"You said he was dead."

"I believed he was."

She looked at the letter.

"Can I see it?"

Mr. Hathaway hesitated.

Then he handed it to her.

She read it slowly.

When she finished, she looked up.

"This isn't possible."

"I know."

"Where has he been?"

"I don't know."

"Why would he contact you now?"

"I don't know."

"What does he want?"

Again, silence.

Mr. Hathaway looked toward the window.

"That's what scares me."

---

Upstairs, Anna sat on the edge of her bed.

Lucio stood near the window.

"You knew something was wrong," Anna said.

"Obviously."

"Dad never talks about Grandpa."

"Exactly."

Anna picked up her Bible.

"I think there's something he's hiding."

Lucio looked at her.

"Do you think Grandpa is alive?"

"I don't know."

Neither of them noticed the small sound coming from downstairs.

A door opening.

Then closing.

---

Mr. Hathaway returned to his study.

The letter was still on his desk.

Beside it was an old photograph.

He picked it up.

The photograph showed a younger version of his father standing beside a black car.

The photograph was faded.

But his father's face remained clear.

Michael turned it over.

There was writing on the back.

A date.

And an address.

He had seen the address before.

It belonged to a building that no longer existed.

Or at least, he thought it didn't.

His phone suddenly vibrated.

Unknown number.

He stared at the screen.

The call ended.

A second later, a message appeared.

You received my letter.

Michael's blood ran cold.

Another message arrived.

You should have told them about me.

He didn't reply.

A third message appeared.

Especially the children.

Michael immediately stood.

He locked the study door.

His heart was pounding.

Someone was watching them.

Someone knew about Anna and Lucio.

He walked to the window.

Outside, through the heavy rain, he could see the gates.

Nothing.

Then headlights appeared.

A black vehicle stopped outside the property.

Michael's face went pale.

He knew that vehicle.

Or rather, he knew the symbol on its front.

It was connected to his father's past.

The vehicle remained there for several seconds.

Then it drove away.

Michael stepped back from the window.

His father had warned him years ago.

If something happens to me, don't trust anyone.

Now Michael understood.

His father hadn't disappeared to escape danger.

He had disappeared because he was running from someone.

And somehow, after twenty-five years, that danger had found its way to the Hathaway family.

---

The next morning, the rain had stopped.

The garden was covered with drops of water that reflected the morning sunlight.

Everything looked peaceful.

But inside the Hathaway house, nothing felt peaceful.

At breakfast, Mr. Hathaway was unusually quiet.

Anna watched him.

Lucio watched him too.

Mrs. Hathaway placed a cup of tea on the table.

"Michael, you haven't slept."

"I'm fine."

"You said that last night."

"And I'm saying it again."

Anna lowered her spoon.

"Dad?"

He looked at her.

"Yes?"

"Is Grandpa alive?"

The entire table became silent.

Mr. Hathaway stared at his daughter.

Mrs. Hathaway closed her eyes.

Lucio leaned forward.

"Anna..."

But she didn't look away from their father.

"I heard what you said last night."

Mr. Hathaway slowly placed his cup on the table.

"I don't know."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer I have."

"Do you think he's alive?"

Mr. Hathaway hesitated.

Then he said:

"Yes."

Lucio looked shocked.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I didn't want you involved."

"Involved in what?"

Mr. Hathaway stood.

"Enough."

Anna stood too.

"No."

Her father looked at her.

"I deserve to know."

"Anna—"

"You said Grandpa disappeared. You never said you didn't know why."

Mrs. Hathaway quietly said, "Michael."

He looked at his wife.

She gave him a warning look.

But something had changed.

The secret was no longer his alone.

Mr. Hathaway sat down.

"My father disappeared twenty-five years ago."

Anna listened carefully.

"He wasn't simply a man who left his family. He was involved with people who were dangerous."

Lucio's expression hardened.

"What kind of people?"

"I don't know everything."

"But you know something."

Mr. Hathaway nodded.

"I know enough."

He looked at his children.

"And that's why I kept you away from this."

Anna's voice softened.

"Did he hurt anyone?"

Mr. Hathaway looked down.

"I don't know."

The answer frightened her more than a yes would have.

Then there was a knock at the front door.

Everyone looked toward the hallway.

A moment later, the housekeeper entered.

"Mr. Hathaway?"

"Yes?"

"There was something outside."

She carried a small wooden box.

Mr. Hathaway immediately recognized it.

His face lost its color.

He stood.

"Where did you find that?"

"At the front gate."

He took the box.

There were two initials carved into the lid.

J.H.

His father's initials.

Nobody spoke.

Mr. Hathaway carried it into the dining room.

He opened it.

Inside were several old photographs, a rusted key, a small watch, and three envelopes.

One was addressed to him.

Another was addressed to Mrs. Hathaway.

The third made everyone's blood run cold.

It was addressed to:

Lucio Hathaway.

Lucio stared at his own name.

"I've never seen that handwriting."

Mr. Hathaway couldn't speak.

He picked up the envelope.

On the back was a sentence.

My grandson deserves to know the truth.

Anna looked at her brother.

Lucio looked at his father.

And Mr. Hathaway realized that there was no way to protect his children by keeping them ignorant anymore.

The past had already entered their home.

He slowly handed the envelope to Lucio.

Lucio looked at him.

"Should I open it?"

Mr. Hathaway swallowed.

"Yes."

Lucio carefully broke the seal.

He pulled out the letter.

His eyes moved across the first line.

Then he stopped.

"What does it say?" Anna asked.

Lucio looked up.

His face had changed.

He handed the letter to Anna.

She read the first sentence.

Her stomach tightened.

The letter began:

Lucio,

You don't know me, but I have watched over this family for longer than you realize.

Anna looked at her father.

Mr. Hathaway couldn't meet her eyes.

Lucio continued reading silently.

Then his expression became even more serious.

"What?"

Mr. Hathaway whispered.

"What does it say?"

Lucio looked at his father.

"It says Grandpa knows about us."

Mr. Hathaway froze.

"Us?"

"About the family."

He took the letter from Lucio.

His eyes moved quickly across the page.

Then he reached the final paragraph.

His hands began to shake.

Michael, if you have kept your promise, you have protected them.

But if you have failed, they are already in danger.

Below those words was a final sentence.

I will see you soon.

Mr. Hathaway dropped the letter onto the table.

Nobody moved.

Outside, somewhere beyond the gates, a car engine started.

Mr. Hathaway looked toward the windows.

For twenty-five years, he had believed his father's disappearance was the greatest mystery of his life.

Now he understood something much worse.

His father hadn't returned because he wanted to repair an old family relationship.

He had returned because something from the past was coming with him.

And whatever that something was, it had already found the Hathaway family.