Chapter 6: Elsa's Secret
531 Words
"I know who killed Dad."
The words hit me like a freight train.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Elsa grabbed my arm and pulled me into the darkness of the hallway.
"Keep your voice down."
My heart pounded wildly.
"What are you talking about?"
"We can't talk here."
"Elsa!"
She looked toward the study door.
Fear flashed across her face.
Real fear.
The kind that made my stomach turn.
Without another word, she dragged me outside.
---
Five minutes later, we sat inside her car parked three streets away.
Rain tapped against the windshield.
Neither of us spoke.
I was too busy staring at her.
Waiting.
Finally, Elsa took a deep breath.
"The man who attended Dad's funeral..."
"The one in the photograph?"
She nodded.
"I saw him again."
My pulse quickened.
"When?"
"Two weeks ago."
I blinked.
"What?"
Elsa swallowed hard.
"I didn't think it mattered at first."
"Elsa."
"He was outside my apartment."
A chill crawled up my spine.
"Watching me."
The silence that followed felt endless.
"Did you call the police?"
She laughed bitterly.
"And tell them what? That a man stared at me?"
She had a point.
Still...
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
"Who is he?"
Elsa looked away.
"I don't know."
My frustration exploded.
"You just said you know who killed Dad!"
"I know who's connected to it."
My heart dropped.
Not the same thing.
Not even close.
---
Elsa opened her handbag.
Inside was a folded newspaper clipping.
Yellow with age.
She handed it to me.
I unfolded it carefully.
The headline made my blood run cold.
LOCAL BUSINESSMAN MISSING AFTER FRAUD INVESTIGATION
Below the headline was a photograph.
My father.
David.
And the stranger.
All standing together.
My hands began shaking.
"They were partners."
Elsa nodded.
The world tilted beneath me.
Everything Mom had told us was a lie.
David knew Dad.
The stranger knew Dad.
Everyone knew each other.
So why hide it?
Then I noticed the date.
The article had been published only three months before Dad's death.
A horrible thought entered my mind.
"What if Dad wasn't the target?"
Elsa frowned.
"What?"
"What if someone else was supposed to die?"
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Because suddenly...
Nothing made sense anymore.
---
Back at home, I couldn't stop thinking about the newspaper.
At midnight, I decided to do something stupid.
Something reckless.
Something I knew I shouldn't.
I broke into David's study.
The room was dark.
Silent.
The air smelled of old books and expensive cologne.
I moved toward the desk.
Searching.
Folders.
Documents.
Receipts.
Nothing.
Then I found a hidden drawer.
My pulse quickened.
Inside was a black notebook.
I opened it.
The first few pages were blank.
Then I saw a familiar name.
My father's.
Page after page contained notes about him.
Dates.
Meetings.
Addresses.
Phone numbers.
Someone had been tracking him.
For years.
My stomach twisted.
Then I reached the final page.
A photograph slipped out.
I picked it up.
And froze.
Because it wasn't a picture of my father.
It wasn't David.
It wasn't the stranger.
It was my mother.
Camella.
And written beneath the photograph were four chilling words.
She knows the truth.
- Writer
