Episode 4 — Father
1633 Words
The word left Amara’s mouth before she could stop it.
“Father.”
The man standing behind Ethan smiled.
Not a warm smile.
Not the kind a father gave his daughter after years apart.
It was the smile of someone who had just found something he’d been searching for.
“Very good,” he said.
Amara’s entire body went cold.
She stared at him.
His face was unfamiliar.
Yet something about him felt terrifyingly familiar.
The shape of his eyes.
The slight tilt of his head.
The way he watched her.
She had seen those eyes before.
Not in photographs.
In memories.
Broken pieces of memories she had spent years trying to understand.
“You remember me,” he said.
Amara shook her head.
“No.”
The man took another step.
Elena immediately moved in front of her.
“Stay away from her.”
He laughed quietly.
“Still protecting her?”
“Someone has to.”
His expression hardened.
“You should have stayed gone.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“You should have stopped looking for her.”
“I never stopped.”
Amara looked at Ethan.
“What is happening?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
She grabbed his arm.
“You knew.”
He looked at her.
“Amara—”
“You knew who he was.”
Ethan’s silence was enough.
Her eyes filled with anger.
“You knew he was my father.”
“I suspected.”
“Suspected?”
Ethan looked toward the older man.
“He changed his identity years ago. I didn’t know for certain until tonight.”
The man smiled.
“You’ve always been too cautious, Ethan.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Don’t talk to me.”
“You disappoint me.”
“Good.”
For the first time, the man’s calm expression cracked.
“You seem to forget who gave you everything.”
Ethan’s fists tightened.
“You gave me nothing.”
“I gave you a name.”
“You gave me a cage.”
Silence.
Amara looked between them.
There was history here.
A lot of it.
And somehow, she was at the center of it.
She turned toward Elena.
“What’s his name?”
Elena hesitated.
The man answered for her.
“Alexander Blackwood.”
Amara’s heart stopped.
Blackwood.
Ethan’s surname.
She looked at Ethan.
Then at Alexander.
“You…”
Alexander smiled.
“Yes.”
He stepped closer.
“Ethan is my son.”
Amara felt dizzy.
Her eyes moved between them.
Ethan had never mentioned having a father.
Never mentioned a family.
Never mentioned the Blackwood name.
“You said Elena was your neighbor.”
Ethan looked ashamed.
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d run.”
“I should run.”
“Yes.”
His answer surprised her.
“You should.”
Alexander laughed.
“Still pretending to be the hero?”
Ethan turned toward him.
“Let her go.”
Alexander’s eyes moved to Amara.
“I don’t think she wants to go.”
Amara’s voice trembled.
“I do.”
Alexander tilted his head.
“You don’t even know what you’re running from.”
“I know enough.”
“No.”
His voice became softer.
“You know nothing.”
He reached inside his coat.
Ethan immediately stepped between them.
“Don’t.”
Alexander pulled out a small envelope.
He threw it onto the floor.
It landed at Amara’s feet.
“Open it.”
Amara didn’t move.
Elena grabbed her arm.
“Don’t.”
Alexander smiled.
“Of course she shouldn’t.”
His eyes remained fixed on Amara.
“She should continue believing the lie.”
Amara stared at the envelope.
“What lie?”
Alexander said nothing.
Her curiosity overcame her fear.
She bent down and picked it up.
“Amara, don’t.”
She ignored Ethan.
Inside were several photographs.
The first showed a young girl.
Amara.
She looked about eighteen.
Standing beside Elena.
They were smiling.
Not strangers.
Not acquaintances.
Sisters.
Friends.
Family.
Amara flipped to the next photograph.
She and Elena were sitting on the floor of Apartment 307.
The next showed Ethan.
He was younger.
Standing beside them.
The three of them looked happy.
Amara’s hands began to shake.
“There are more.”
She pulled them out.
Then she saw one that made her blood run cold.
It showed Amara standing in front of a mirror.
Her face was bruised.
There was blood on her forehead.
And written across the photograph was:
DAY ONE.
She dropped it.
“What did you do to me?”
Alexander didn’t answer.
Elena stepped closer.
“He didn’t do it alone.”
Amara looked at her.
“Who helped him?”
Elena’s eyes moved toward Ethan.
Amara froze.
“No.”
Ethan looked down.
“Amara…”
“You helped him?”
“I was trying to stop it.”
“But you were there.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan swallowed.
“Because I thought it was the only way to keep you alive.”
Amara slapped him.
The sound echoed through the basement.
Ethan didn’t react.
He simply looked at her.
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You watched this happen.”
“I know.”
“You let them hurt me.”
“I know.”
Amara’s eyes filled with tears.
“Then why should I believe anything you say?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Alexander suddenly laughed.
“Finally.”
Everyone looked at him.
“This is exactly why I brought you here.”
Amara frowned.
“What?”
Alexander smiled.
“You were always difficult to control when you remembered him.”
Ethan’s expression changed.
“Shut up.”
Alexander ignored him.
“Do you know why you were brought to Apartment 307?”
Amara shook her head.
“Because you discovered something.”
“What?”
Alexander’s eyes darkened.
“A secret that could destroy the Blackwood family.”
The room became silent.
Elena whispered,
“Amara, don’t listen to him.”
But Amara couldn’t look away.
“What secret?”
Alexander stepped closer.
“You found evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“A murder.”
Amara stopped breathing.
Elena closed her eyes.
Ethan looked away.
Amara’s voice dropped.
“Whose murder?”
Alexander smiled.
“Your mother’s.”
The world seemed to disappear.
Amara stared at him.
“My mother is alive.”
Alexander’s smile faded.
“No.”
Amara shook her head.
“No. She died when I was nineteen.”
“That’s what they told you.”
Elena’s eyes filled with tears.
“Amara…”
She turned toward her.
“Tell me he’s lying.”
Elena couldn’t answer.
“Tell me!”
Elena whispered,
“Your mother didn’t die naturally.”
Amara’s knees weakened.
“What happened?”
Elena looked at Alexander.
“He killed her.”
Alexander’s expression remained calm.
“You have no proof.”
Elena pointed at the photographs.
“She found the proof.”
Amara looked down.
The photographs suddenly made sense.
The bruises.
The apartment.
The missing memories.
The fear.
“You erased my memory because I knew.”
Elena nodded.
“You found documents connecting him to your mother’s death.”
“And you?”
“I tried to help you.”
“What happened?”
Elena’s voice broke.
“You were caught.”
Amara stared at her.
“And then?”
“They gave you a choice.”
“What choice?”
Elena swallowed.
“Forget everything and live.”
She looked at Amara.
“Or remember everything and die.”
Amara’s breathing became shallow.
“And I chose to forget.”
“Yes.”
“Why did I come back?”
Elena looked at Apartment 307.
“Because you started remembering.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“That’s why I tried to keep you away.”
Amara looked at him.
“You knew I’d remember?”
“Eventually.”
“And you were watching me?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Before you moved in.”
Amara’s heart sank.
“You knew where I was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was coming.”
“Yes.”
“You sent the messages.”
“No.”
Amara frowned.
“Then who did?”
Ethan’s expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
Alexander laughed softly.
“I do.”
Everyone turned toward him.
He looked at Amara.
“You did.”
Amara’s heart stopped.
“What?”
“The messages came from your old phone.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t have an old phone.”
“You don’t remember it.”
Alexander took another envelope from his coat.
“This was found three years ago.”
He pulled out a phone.
An old phone.
Cracked screen.
Black case.
He held it toward her.
Amara stared.
Something inside her recognized it immediately.
She reached for it.
The moment her fingers touched the phone, the screen lit up.
One notification appeared.
ONE NEW VOICE RECORDING.
Amara pressed play.
Her own voice came through the speaker.
It sounded frightened.
Broken.
But unmistakably hers.
“If you’re listening to this…”
She stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“Then something went wrong.”
Amara’s eyes widened.
Her past self whispered:
“Don’t trust Ethan.”
Ethan went completely still.
Then the recording continued.
“And whatever you do…”
A pause.
A shaky breath.
“Don’t let Elena take you to the basement.”
Amara slowly looked around the room.
Her face went pale.
They were already in the basement.
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then the basement door slammed shut.
BANG.
The lights went out.
And somewhere in the darkness, a woman’s voice whispered:
“Too late.”
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