Chapter 2 – The Daughter He Buried Alive
The old man's lips parted, but no words came out.
The folded photograph trembled in his hands.
It showed a young woman lying in a hospital bed, smiling weakly despite the oxygen tube beneath her nose. In her arms rested a newborn wrapped in a faded blue blanket.
She looked exactly the same.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
"Evelyn..." he breathed.
The name shattered something inside him.
The guests looked from the billionaire to the frightened boy, suddenly unsure whether they were witnessing a charity performance or a family tragedy.
The boy nodded slowly.
"My mom said... you were her father."
Silence crashed over the garden.
The elegant woman nearly dropped her wine glass.
The old man staggered backward until his chair caught him.
"No..."
His voice cracked.
"No... my daughter died twenty-four years ago."
The boy frowned.
"She said everyone believed that."
His small fingers reached into his pocket again and pulled out a yellowed envelope.
"It has your name."
The old man opened it with shaking hands.
Inside was a letter written in familiar handwriting.
Dad,
If you're reading this, I finally ran out of time.
You searched for my grave...
But I was never there.
The night I disappeared, I wasn't killed.
I was taken.
By the time I escaped, everyone believed I was dead.
I wanted to come home.
I was ashamed.
Then I became sick.
I couldn't bear to let you see me like this.
If my son ever finds you...
Please don't punish him for my mistakes.
Love always,
Evelyn.
The billionaire's vision blurred.
For twenty-four years he had blamed himself for failing to protect his only child.
Now he learned she had been alive all along.
And dying alone.
He looked at the boy.
"What is your name?"
"Daniel."
"Where is your mother?"
The boy lowered his eyes.
"At St. Mary's Hospital."
"She doesn't have much time."
Without another word, the old man stood.
May you like
"Dinner is over."
None of the guests dared stop him.
