The photograph slipped from my fingers and fell onto the wet ground. I stared at the three smiling faces Charles, Richard, and my grandfather. The man who used to bring me lollipops as a child, sit beside my hospital bed when I was sick, and hold my hand at Dad’s funeral. I had always believed he was a quiet, retired engineer who loved gardening and would never hurt anyone.
“That’s impossible,” I whispered. “He’s my family. He loved us.”
“He loved you,” Richard replied quietly. “But he loved power more. When your father discovered the company’s dangerous activities, your grandfather made sure the truth stayed hidden. He ordered Charles to threaten your father and silence him. Charles did everything under your grandfather’s instructions.”
My head spun. I held the doorway to keep myself s
