Chapter 3: The Name I Buried
My hands were shaking.
I hated that Nia noticed.
She didn't ask me to explain immediately.
She simply stood beside me while the valet traffic moved around us.
Finally, she said, “Adrian, what's wrong?””
I handed her the phone.
She read the messages.
Her eyes widened.
“Marcus?””
I nodded.
“You have a brother named Marcus?””
“Had.””
“You said had.””
“He died.””
Nia looked back at the message.
“It says he isn't dead.””
“I know.””
“When did he supposedly die?””
“Seven years ago.””
“How?””
“Car accident.””
“Were you there?””
“No.””
“Did you see him?””
I swallowed.
“No.””
Nia's expression changed.
“Then who told you?””
“My father.””
“And you believed him?””
“He showed me the police report.””
She looked at the phone again.
“Then someone is either lying or someone has some very convincing information.””
I stared across the parking lot.
A yellow Lamborghini sat beside the curb.
The valet had parked it beneath the awning.
The car was mine.
My father had given it to me after the accident.
I'd barely driven it since the surgery.
I reached into my pocket for the keys.
Nia noticed.
“Where are you going?””
“Home.””
“Alone?””
“Yes.””
She shook her head.
“You shouldn't be alone right now.””
“I've got family.””
“Are they the same family connected to this?””
I stopped.
She was right.
My father had always been protective of Marcus's memory.
Whenever I asked questions, he'd shut them down.
Whenever I mentioned the accident, he'd change the subject.
Whenever I asked to see the original police file, he'd tell me there was nothing left to see.
I'd accepted it because grief had made me tired.
Maybe too tired.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, Vanessa was calling.
I answered.
“Hello?””
Her voice came through immediately.
“Where are you?””
“Outside.””
“Is Nia with you?””
“Yes.””
A pause.
“Adrian, you need to listen to me.””
“I've been listening.””
“I wasn't supposed to tell you.””
“Tell me what?””
Another pause.
“I knew your brother.””
My chest tightened.
“What?””
“I knew Marcus.””
“When?””
“Before he disappeared.””
I gripped the phone.
“You said disappeared.””
“I didn't mean—”
“You said disappeared.””
“Adrian, please.””
“Vanessa, is my brother alive?””
Silence.
“Vanessa.””
“I don't know.””
I closed my eyes.
“Then why did you tell me to ask what happened to him?””
“Because your father isn't telling you everything.””
Nia looked at me.
I turned away.
“What does my father have to do with you?””
“He has everything to do with it.””
“What does that mean?””
“I can't explain over the phone.””
“Then explain now.””
“I need to see you.””
“You had your chance.””
“I was scared.””
“Of what?””
“Your father.””
The words hit harder than they should have.
My father was intimidating.
Controlling.
But afraid?
People weren't usually afraid of him.
“Why?””
“I can't say this over the phone.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because I'm not stupid, Adrian.””
“Neither am I.””
She lowered her voice.
“Do you remember the night Marcus died?””
“Yes.””
“Do you remember what your father told you?””
“He said Marcus lost control of his car.””
“And did you ever see the car?””
“No.””
“Did you ever see his body?””
“No.””
“Did you ever attend a funeral?””
My mouth went dry.
“Yes.””
“Did you see the casket opened?””
I couldn't speak.
Vanessa whispered, “Exactly.””
The call ended.
I stood frozen.
Nia touched my arm.
“What did she say?””
I looked at her.
“I don't know what to believe.””
She nodded.
“Then don't believe anyone yet.””
She pointed toward the Lamborghini.
“Get somewhere safe. Then start finding facts.””
I stared at her.
“You don't have to do this.””
“I know.””
“Then why are you?””
She gave a small smile.
“Because five minutes turned into a mystery, and now I'm curious.””
I laughed despite everything.
“That's your reason?””
“No.””
She looked at me more seriously.
“I stayed because when everyone else saw your wheelchair, they saw a problem.””
She glanced toward the street.
“I saw a man trying very hard not to let someone else's cruelty break him.””
I didn't know what to say.
So I simply nodded.
We walked toward the Lamborghini.
My leg began to ache halfway there.
I slowed.
Nia noticed.
“You need the chair?””
“Maybe.””
She unfolded it.
I sat carefully.
She pushed me toward the car.
When we reached it, the valet approached.
“Mr. Cole?””
“Yeah?””
“Beautiful car.””
“Thanks.””
The valet smiled.
“Need help getting in?””
“I've got it.””
I opened the driver's door.
Then my phone buzzed.
Another unknown number.
This time there was a photograph attached.
I opened it.
My breath stopped.
It showed a man standing outside a gas station.
Older.
Thinner.
With a scar running along his jaw.
But there was no mistaking him.
Marcus.
My brother.
Alive.
I zoomed in.
The timestamp was from three days ago.
Nia leaned closer.
“Is that him?””
I nodded.
“That's Marcus.””
My phone buzzed again.
A text appeared beneath the photograph.
*He knows what your father did.*
Then another.
*And Vanessa knows where he is.*
I looked up.
Across the street, Vanessa was standing beside a black SUV.
She was staring directly at me.
Her phone was pressed to her ear.
Then she slowly lowered it.
May you like
And mouthed four words I could read through the glass.
*Don't trust your father.*