PART 8 – THE HIDDEN REFUGE
We drove for hours through the dark, rain-soaked Dutch countryside. The polders slid past us like gray phantoms, and the only sound in the car was the monotonous swipe of the windshield wipers. No one spoke a word.
My thoughts spun feverishly. The red box lay heavily on my lap. Mom's notebook was in my pocket, and the photos burned like fire in my imagination. Who were these men in the black cars? What had our father done that was so gruesome and mysterious?
When the first vague streaks of dawn light appeared on the horizon, my brother exited the highway. We arrived in a narrow, forested area, far away from any civilization. Finally, the car stopped in front of an old, dilapidated forester's lodge almost completely overgrown with ivy.
“Get out,” my brother said briefly.
We went inside. It smelled of musty wood and old books, but it was warm and dry here. My brother pulled the window shutters closed and lit a small kerosene lamp. The dim light cast dancing shadows on the walls.
He dropped onto a wooden chair, rubbed his face with his hands, and took a deep breath.
“You're safe now,” he said quietly. “For now, at least.”
I placed the red box on the table and sat down opposite him. I looked him straight in the eyes.
“Now I want to hear the truth,” I said decisively. “No more half stories. What happened between you and father twelve years ago? And what does that have to do with Mom's death?”
My brother directed his gaze at the red box. His eyes reflected pain and anger.
“Do you think father was a successful businessman?” he began to laugh bitterly. “That's what he wanted the outside world to believe. But in reality... he was the treasurer of a dangerous syndicate operating between Amsterdam and Rotterdam.”
I froze. “What? No, that can't be...”
“It's the harsh truth,” he interrupted me sharply. “Twelve years ago, I accidentally found his bookkeeping in the safe of his study. Not the papers of his legal business, but the black books. Extortion, money laundering, and... when someone stood in the way, they swept them aside.”
His words fell like heavy stones into the silent room.
“Father caught me holding those papers,” he continued. “He told me that if I said even a single word, our entire family would be wiped out. He gave me money, gave me an hour to disappear, and said I must never return again. If I stayed, he would report me himself or... worse.”
I felt the ground drop out from under my feet. My entire life was based on a lie.
