Chapter 8 - THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Daniel arranged for a private car to take me out of the hospital before dawn.
My face was still covered in layers of bandages.
My body was weak.
But for the first time since the attack, I wasn't thinking about the scars.
I was thinking about the dead parents who might not be dead.
We drove through Manhattan while the city was still dark.
Rachel sat beside me.
Daniel sat in front.
No one spoke.
When we finally reached my father's old estate, the iron gates opened automatically.
I stared through the window.
The house looked exactly as I remembered it.
Except for one thing.
There were fresh footprints in the snow near the back entrance.
Someone had been there recently.
Daniel noticed them too.
He raised one hand.
We stopped.
He entered first.
The house smelled exactly as I remembered.
Old wood.
Dust.
My father's tobacco.
I walked slowly toward his study.
The door was locked.
Daniel forced it open.
Inside, everything appeared untouched.
His desk.
His books.
His old leather chair.
Then Rachel pointed toward the fireplace.
“There.”
A small metal panel was hidden behind the stonework.
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a safe.
But the safe wasn't locked.
Someone had already opened it.
There was only one thing left inside.
A photograph.
I picked it up.
My hands trembled.
It showed my father standing beside a woman.
My mother.
Both were alive.
Both looked directly at the camera.
And between them stood a young man.
I stared at his face.
My stomach dropped.
I knew him.
Daniel saw my expression.
“Who is that?”
I couldn't answer.
Because the man in the photograph was someone I had trusted for years.
Someone who had comforted me at my father's funeral.
Someone who had helped manage my inheritance.
Someone who had been beside Logan through every major business deal.
Ryan.
But there was something else.
Written on the back of the photograph were six words:
HE WAS THERE THE NIGHT THEY DISAPPEARED.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Daniel immediately locked the study door.
Then we heard footsteps downstairs.
Slow.
Deliberate.
May you like
Someone had entered the house.
And whoever it was knew exactly where we were.
