CHAPTER FIVE
1622 Words
THE LETTER.
I walked toward him.
“Dad, did you do it?"
He stared at me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you kill him?”
His expression changed.
“Maya, who told you that?”
“Answer me.”
He slowly stood.
“Maya, sit down. We need to talk.”
“There is nothing to talk about.”
“Maya…”
“You killed the man who trusted you, didn't you?”
My father's face tightened.
“That isn't true.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
“I couldn't have killed him. He was my best friend.”
I stared at him.
“Then why have you spent all these years hiding him from me?”
He didn't answer.
That silence hurt more than anything he could have said.
“You know what, Dad?”
His eyes met mine.
“I spent my whole life believing you were a good man.”
“I am a good man.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
He looked away.
I felt tears gathering in my eyes.
“You're hiding something.”
“Maya, you don't understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
He remained silent.
I shook my head.
“You're a liar.”
“Maya…”
I turned toward the stairs.
“Maya, wait.”
I stopped but didn't turn around.
Then I remembered something.
I looked back at him.
“And there's something else you need to know.”
My father frowned.
“Your new manager is his son.”
His face suddenly changed.
“What?”
“Alex.”
My father's expression went pale.
“He told me who he really is.
For a moment, my father couldn't speak.
“He told me about Dave Freight. He told me about his father. And he told me you were there the night his father died.”
“Maya…”
I walked upstairs.
“Maya, come back. We need to talk.”
I didn't stop.
Behind me, I heard him call my name again.
“Maya!”
I ignored him.
When I reached my room, I closed the door and leaned against it.
My hands were shaking.
I had never spoken to my father that way before.
But something had changed.
I couldn't simply accept everything he told me anymore.
That night, I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, Alex's words returned to me.
I came here for the truth.
And now I wanted the truth too.
The following morning, my father knocked on my door.
“Maya?”
I remained silent.
“Maya, please. I want us to talk.”
I still didn't answer.
A few minutes later, I heard another voice.
“Miss Maya, your breakfast is ready.”
It was the chef.
I finally opened the door and went downstairs.
My father was sitting in the living room.
“Maya, good morning.”
I didn't answer.
He sighed.
“Can we please talk?”
I looked at him.
“I need to see Alex.”
His expression changed.
“Why?”
“I need to hear everything from him."
“Maya, you shouldn't involve yourself in something you don't understand.”
“I've already involved myself.”
He looked away.
“I just want the truth.”
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then I picked up my phone.
I called Alex.
After several rings, he answered.
“Hello?”
“Alex, I want to see you.”
There was a brief silence.
“Where?”
“I'll send you the address.”
“Okay.”
The call ended.
My father looked at me.
“You shouldn't do this.”
“I need answers, Dad.”
About thirty minutes later, someone knocked on the door.
My father looked at me.
“Maya, get the door.”
I walked toward it and opened it.
Alex stood outside.
“Good morning.”
“Come in.”
He stepped inside.
The moment he saw my father, he stopped.
The anger in his eyes returned.
“You knew,” he said quietly.
My father looked down.
“You knew what happened to my father.”
“Alex, please sit.”
“You betrayed him.”
“Sit down, Alex.”
After a moment, Alex reluctantly sat.
I sat beside him while my father took the chair opposite us.
For several seconds, nobody spoke
Then my father finally broke the silence.
“Twenty years ago, your father and I were close friends.”
Alex stared at him.
“We built Dave Freight Empire together.”
Alex's jaw tightened.
“Your father was the biggest investor. I handled much of the business operations, while he handled the financial side.”
My father paused.
“We started with almost nothing. But over time, the company grew into a multimillion-dollar business.
Alex remained silent.
“Then something changed.
“What?” he asked.
My father looked down at his hands.
“We began disagreeing about the direction of the company.”
“About what?”
“There were financial decisions we couldn't agree on.”
Alex leaned forward.
“And that caused you two to fight?”
“Yes.”
“What happened after that?”
My father took a deep breath.
“One night, your father asked me to meet him. He wanted us to settle our disagreement.”
“And did you?”
“We talked for hours.”
My father looked at Alex.
“We argued. We blamed each other. But eventually, we made peace.”
Alex's expression remained suspicious.
“And then?”
“Your father left.”
My father's voice became quieter.
“On his way out of the restaurant, he was attacked.”
Alex froze.
“What?”
“He was shot by an unknown man.”
Silence filled the room.
“You expect me to believe that?” Alex asked.
“I am telling you what happened.”
“You've had twenty years to tell me.”
“I didn't know where you were.”
Alex stared at him.
“You never looked for me.”
“I did.”
Alex shook his head.
“I searched for you for years,” my father continued. “I didn't even know whether you were alive.”
Alex looked away.
“I wanted to find you because you were the only family your father had left.”
His voice cracked.
“I failed.”
For the first time, Alex's anger seemed to weaken.
But only for a moment.
“Then why didn't you tell Maya?”
My father looked at me.
“Because I wanted to protect her.”
“Protect her from what?”
My father didn't answer immediately.
“From the truth.”
My heart tightened.
“What truth?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“There's something I never told you.”
“What?”
“Your father's death wasn't the only thing connected to that night.”
Alex leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
My father took a slow breath.
“Your father left something behind.”
Alex frowned.
“What?”
“A letter.”
The room became completely silent.
“A letter?” Alex repeated.
My father nodded.
“Before his death, your father gave his lawyer instructions to keep it safe.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is it?”
My father reached for his phone.
“I'll call the lawyer.”
He dialed a number.
After a few moments, someone answered.
“Hello, Mr. Smith?”
“Please come to my house.”
There was a pause.
“And bring Mr. Freight's documents.”
My father ended the call.
Alex sat motionless.
I looked at him.
For twenty years, he had carried anger toward my father.
Now, for the first time, he was being offered something different.
Evidence.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
The lawyer entered carrying a black briefcase.
“Good morning.”
Nobody answered.
He walked into the living room and sat down.
Then he opened the briefcase.
From inside, he removed a small brown envelope.
Alex immediately noticed it.
“What is that?”
The lawyer looked at him.
“This belongs to you.”
Alex stared at the envelope.
“To me?”
“Yes.”
He slowly reached for it.
His fingers were trembling.
The lawyer released it into his hand.
Alex looked at my father.
“What did my father write?”
“I don't know,” my father replied.
Alex looked down at the envelope.
His name was written across the front.
ALEXANDER FREIGHT.
His breathing became uneven.
He carefully opened it.
Inside was a single-folded sheet of paper.
Alex unfolded it.
His eyes moved slowly across the first line.
Then he stopped.
His entire expression changed.
The color disappeared from his face.
Tears began rolling down his cheeks.
“What does it say?” I whispered.
Alex didn't answer.
He simply stared at the page.
Then, with a trembling voice, he read the first sentence.
“Alex... if you're reading this, it means I'm already gone.”
He stopped.
His eyes moved to the next line.
And suddenly, he looked directly at my father.
“You knew.”
My father stood frozen.
“Knew what?” I asked.
Alex slowly turned the letter toward me.
There were only a few words visible at the bottom of the page.
The person responsible for my death is not who you think.
My heart stopped.
I looked at my father.
He didn't move.
And for the first time, I realized that everything we thought we knew about that night might have been a lie.
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