Chapter 103 Secrets That Should Have Stayed Buried

Chapter 103 Secrets That Should Have Stayed Buried
For a couple of seconds, I genuinely thought I was mishearing things.

The entire room went dead silent. Nobody moved an inch, nobody spoke, and the only actual sound was the faint, low hum coming from the security monitor hard drives.

Then, I let out a short, completely disbelieving laugh. I had to, because the alternative was just impossible.

"That is totally ridiculous," I said, my voice sounding weird and hollow even to my own ears. "Ethan would never hide something like that from me. Ever."

Nobody answered me. And honestly, that silence was what terrified me the most.

I looked over at Lucien, then at Vincent, and then at Zane. Not a single one of them looked convinced. My stomach did a violent, sick twist, and I just shook my head, crossing my arms tight over my chest. "No. No way."

On the main screen, Richard Hale just kept standing outside the iron gates, looking totally calm, like he hadn't just dropped a literal nuclear bomb right into the middle of my life.

I glared at the screen, my panic turning into sharp authority. "Get Ethan down here right now."

Lucien glanced at me. "Sarah—"

"Now, Lucien." The pure sharpness in my tone actually surprised me, and it must have surprised them too, because nobody argued. Within five seconds, one of the guards was pulling out his phone to make the call.

The wait felt like a total eternity. Every single second felt like a minute, and every minute felt like an hour. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen. I just kept staring at Richard Hale, at that stupid manila folder in his hands, and at the smug, knowing look on his face. It was the look of a guy who knew he held every single winning card in the deck, and I absolutely hated him for it.

About twenty minutes later, the heavy front door flew open. Fast, heavy footsteps came echoing down the hallway, and then Ethan burst into the security room with Amara trailing right behind him.

The second he walked in, Ethan looked completely confused. But then his eyes locked onto my face, and he instantly knew something was horribly wrong. "Sarah? What's going on?"

I didn't say a word. I just raised my hand and pointed a shaking finger directly at the security monitor.

His eyes followed my hand to the screen. The exact second Ethan saw Richard Hale’s face, every single drop of color completely drained out of his skin. He went totally pale.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. Because that reaction right there told me everything I ever needed to know.

"Ethan," I whispered, the word barely making it out of my throat. He didn't answer. "Ethan, look at me."

Still nothing. His jaw just clenched so tight the muscles in his cheek started twitching. Amara looked between the two of us, then at the monitor, and then back at Ethan. Suddenly, she looked just as terrified as he did.

A horrible, heavy weight settled deep in my chest—the exact feeling you get right before your entire world alters forever.

"Ethan!" This time my voice completely cracked, tears blurring my vision. "Who is that man?"

More silence. I watched my big brother struggle—like he was actively fighting a war inside his own head—and seeing him that freaked out scared me more than anything else.

Finally, he closed his eyes for a long second, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "His name is Richard Hale."

"I know his name, Ethan," I said, my hands shaking so bad I had to ball them into fists. "What I don't know is why you look like you just saw a ghost."

Nobody in the room dared to interrupt. I could feel Lucien watching Ethan’s every move, and Vincent’s playful attitude was completely gone. Zane looked like he was about two seconds away from pulling the answers out of my brother by force.

Then Ethan let out a long, totally defeated sigh. It was the kind of sound people make when they know they’ve officially lost. "I never wanted you to find out about this, Sarah. Not like this."

My chest tightened up so much it hurt to breathe. Find out what? The question was practically screaming inside my skull. "Ethan, tell me."

His eyes finally met mine, and they were just filled with pure, heavy guilt. Suddenly, a part of me didn't even want to hear the answer anymore. Because secrets like this never come with good news.

"Just say it," I demanded.

He swallowed hard, and then he looked down at the floor. That hurt worse than anything, because Ethan never looked away from me. Not when things were serious. Never.

"Our dad didn’t die in a car accident, Sarah."

The entire room turned to pure ice. Every single person froze, including me. I just stared at him, waiting for the punchline, or for him to tell me it was a sick joke. But nothing came.

A sharp, hollow laugh popped out of my mouth. "What?"

Ethan looked completely miserable. "Our father didn't die in a car accident."

Hearing it the second time made my ears start ringing. My heart was thumping like crazy, and absolutely nothing made sense anymore. All my memories, my entire childhood—everything was spinning. "You're lying to me."

"I'm not, Sarah."

"You are lying!" I shouted, my voice cracking as I stepped backward, away from him. "Don't do that. Don't stand there and tell me something like that after all these years!"

"Sarah, please—"

"No!"

Amara tried to step toward me to put a hand on my shoulder, but I instantly shook my head and backed up further. I couldn't handle anyone touching me right now. I couldn't handle comfort. The room suddenly felt way too small, way too hot, and way too loud, even though nobody was talking.

Suddenly, Richard Hale’s voice sparked back through the gate speakers. "I told you, Lucien. She deserves the truth."

Lucien didn't even hesitate—he slammed his hand down on the console and muted the audio. Thank God, because I was about one second away from punching the screen.

I looked back at my brother, my body trembling. "Explain it to me. Right now, Ethan. Explain it."

He ran a hand through his hair—a nervous habit he hadn't done since we were kids. "I was seventeen," he started, his voice sounding totally distant, like he was trapped inside a bad memory. "I wasn't supposed to find out. I overheard Mom screaming and arguing with someone in the kitchen late at night. She thought I was completely asleep."

My stomach did another sick flip.

"Our dad wasn't killed by a reckless driver, Sarah," Ethan whispered, looking right at me. "He was murdered."

The whole room basically disappeared. Not literally, but everything around me went totally blurry and far away. Murdered. The word just kept bouncing around in my head over and over again like a nightmare.

I had to sit down on the nearest chair before my legs completely gave out on me. Lucien’s hand instantly clamped onto my shoulder, holding me steady and trying to keep me grounded, but even his touch felt miles away. My mind was spiraling out of control. All those years, all those sad visits to the cemetery, all the stories Mom told us... it was all a giant lie. Or at least, a massive cover-up.

"Who did it?" I whispered, the question coming out automatically.

Ethan closed his eyes tightly. "I don't know."

I stared at him, completely appalled. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I never found out!" he said, his voice dripping with years of pure frustration. "Trust me, I looked. I spent years digging into it. I kept it a secret because I thought... I thought I could protect you from the mess."

A bitter, awful laugh escaped my throat. "And there it is. There it is again."

Ethan flinched like I’d hit him.

"You don't get to make that choice for me, Ethan!" I shouted, the anger finally breaking through the shock. "You don't get to just decide what I can handle and what I can't!"

"I know, Sarah. I know."

"You should have told me years ago!"

"I know!" his voice cracked, and suddenly all the fight drained out of him. He didn't look angry or defensive anymore; he just looked incredibly tired. Like he’d been carrying this massive, crushing weight on his shoulders for half his life.

I wanted to stay furious at him—I really did—but seeing the sheer regret written all over his face made it so much harder.

Suddenly, the heavy door to the security room flew open again. Everyone spun around as one of the outdoor guards rushed in, breathing heavily and looking completely panicked.

Lucien stood up instantly, his aura turning lethal. "What happened? Report."

The guard looked at the monitor, then back at us, his face totally grim. "Sir..."

"Spit it out," Lucien growled.

The guard swallowed hard. "Richard Hale is gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Vincent snapped.

"We went to secure the gate line to bring him in," the guard said, looking visibly shaken. "But by the time we got out there, he was completely gone. He just vanished into the tree line."

A freezing chill ran straight down my spine. Lucien’s face darkened instantly. "Search the entire perimeter. Now."

"We already started, sir," the guard said, hesitating before reaching into his vest pocket. "But... he left something taped to the intercom box."

Nobody said a word as the guard held up a small, physical photograph.

My blood turned entirely to ice. It was an old photo—very old. The edges were totally yellowed and worn down, and the colors had faded, but the people in the picture were crystal clear.

One of them was my dad, looking younger and smiling. He was standing right next to a younger version of Richard Hale.

But it was the third person that made my breath completely catch. Standing directly behind them, staring into the camera with a look I recognized instantly, was a man whose face I had seen in old news articles recently. A man whose son was currently obsessed with destroying my life.

It was Aaron’s father.

The entire room fell into a stunned, horrific silence. And suddenly, I realized this nightmare wasn't just about Aaron anymore.