I Was Dared to Dance With the Quiet Girl—Then She Whispered Something Unforgettable

Chapter 8

We reached Boston two days later.

The photograph led us to a train station.

The man in the picture had boarded a train heading north.

We followed the trail through several towns.

Finally, we found a small coastal community where an old bookstore owner recognized the photograph.

“He rented a room here,” the man said.

“When?”

“About six months ago.”

“Where did he go?”

The owner hesitated.

Then he gave us an address.

The house stood near the harbor.

I knocked.

Nothing.

I knocked again.

A voice answered from inside.

“Who is it?”

I swallowed.

“Ethan.”

Silence.

The lock turned.

The door opened.

My father stood there.

Older.

Thinner.

Gray touched his hair.

But it was him.

I couldn’t move.

Neither could he.

Then he whispered:

“My son.”

I crossed the room.

He caught me.

For the first time in three years, I felt my father’s arms around me.

I didn’t forgive him.

Not immediately.

I didn’t know how.

I simply held him and cried.

When we finally separated, I punched his shoulder.

“You were alive.”

“I know.”

“You let us believe you were dead.”

“I had no choice.”

“You always had a choice!”

His eyes filled with tears.

“I thought staying away was the only way to keep you alive.”

Emily stood quietly near the door.

My father looked at her.

“Daniel’s daughter.”

She nodded.

“You have your father’s eyes.”

“What happened to him?”

My father looked toward the window.

“Richard Morgan killed him.”

Emily closed her eyes.

My father explained everything.

Daniel had uncovered the fraud.

My mother agreed to testify.

Richard discovered their plan.

Daniel was killed.

My father escaped with the ledger.

Then he disappeared.

But Richard never stopped looking.

“Why didn’t you expose him?”

“Because the ledger alone wasn’t enough.”

“What did you need?”

My father looked at me.

“The original contract.”