PART 4 — THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN WATCHING ME
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Marcus wasn't dead.
The man responsible for destroying my family had been alive all this time.
And somehow, he knew I existed.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Sarah looked at me.
“We don't know.”
“But you just said he's been looking for me.”
“He has.”
“How?”
She lowered her voice.
“Because someone has been monitoring your life.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Who?”
“We believe he has people everywhere.”
I thought about the anonymous calls.
The man at the Miller Building.
The strange feeling I'd sometimes had that someone was watching my house.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
“Mrs. Rhode knew?”
Sarah nodded.
“She knew more than anyone.”
“Then why didn't she tell me?”
“Because telling you would have put you in danger.”
I shook my head.
“She promised me everything she owned.”
Sarah gave me a sad smile.
“She didn't want to leave you money, James.”
“Then what did she want?”
“To leave you the truth.”
She handed me another envelope.
“This was found among her personal belongings.”
My name was written across it.
I opened it.
“James, if you're reading this, you've already found the account.”
I continued.
“Now you must understand why I hid you.”
The letter explained everything.
My father had discovered that Marcus had been using several companies to move stolen money.
My mother discovered it too.
They planned to expose him.
But Marcus found out.
He threatened my mother.
He told her that if she went to the police, I would disappear.
So Mrs. Rhode created a plan.
My parents would make everyone believe I had been abandoned.
I would enter the foster system.
My identity would be changed.
And Marcus would believe I had been sent away or died.
But there was one problem.
My father couldn't disappear with me.
He stayed behind.
He took responsibility for the missing money.
And he went to prison.
My mother fled.
For years, Mrs. Rhode secretly followed my life from a distance.
She knew which foster homes I lived in.
She knew when I graduated.
She knew when I got my first job.
She even knew about the night I slept outside after being thrown out of a foster home.
I felt tears running down my face.
She had been there.
All along.
Just never close enough for me to know.
At the bottom of the letter she wrote:
“I wanted to tell you a thousand times. But every time I looked at you, I remembered the promise I made to your mother.”
Then came the final sentence.
“The person who can prove everything is still alive.”
I looked at Sarah.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Your father.”
I nearly dropped the letter.
“My father is dead.”
“That is what everyone believes.”
“What are you saying?”
Sarah leaned closer.
“Your father didn't die in prison.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He disappeared.”
My heart raced.
“When?”
“Six months before the official death certificate.”
I couldn't speak.
“Then whose body was buried?”
“We don't know.”
I felt dizzy.
My father might still be alive.
Suddenly my phone buzzed.
A text message.
Unknown number.
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
Another message arrived.
YOUR FATHER DIDN'T SAVE YOU. HE BETRAYED YOU.
I stared at the screen.
Sarah saw it.
“Don't answer.”
“Why?”
“Because they want you angry.”
A third message appeared.
This time there was a photograph.
My house.
Taken from across the street.
My blood froze.
Someone had been watching me.
Sarah grabbed my arm.
“We have to leave.”
We ran through the back entrance.
Outside, a black SUV was parked across the street.
Its engine was running.
The windows were tinted.
The vehicle suddenly accelerated.
I memorized the license plate.
Sarah pulled me toward her car.
“Where are we going?”
“To the only person who can explain where your father went.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Your father's old prison cellmate.”
* * *
We drove for nearly an hour.
The man lived alone in a small farmhouse outside town.
His name was Daniel.
When he opened the door and saw me, his face went pale.
“Thomas's son?”
I nodded.
Daniel stared at me for several seconds.
Then he whispered:
“You look exactly like him.”
“Do you know where my father is?”
Daniel closed the door.
“I was hoping you'd never find me.”
“Please.”
He sat down.
“Your father discovered something about Marcus that was far bigger than stolen money.”
“What?”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“Marcus wasn't working alone.”
My stomach tightened.
“With whom?”
Daniel took a deep breath.
“People in government.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Your father had evidence.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked directly into my eyes.
“He hid it.”
“Where?”
Daniel's expression changed.
“Inside something you already have.”
I thought of the metal lunchbox.
The key.
The letter.
The old photographs.
Then I understood.
“The inheritance?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He whispered:
“The thing Mrs. Rhode left you.”
Suddenly, someone knocked on the farmhouse door.
Three slow knocks.
Daniel's face turned white.
“Don't move.”
The knocking came again.
Three times.
Then a man's voice came from outside.
“James.”
I froze.
Daniel whispered:
“That's Marcus.”
The door handle began to turn.
