He stared at the screen.
Then at me.
“I’ve heard that name before.”
“From where?”
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told me everything.
“Julian.”
He sat down slowly.
“When I was younger, my father used to talk about a woman named Evelyn.”
I felt a chill.
“What did he say?”
Julian rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t know. It was years ago.”
“Try.”
He closed his eyes.
“My father said some people spend their whole lives running from the truth.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“What else?”
“He said if anyone ever came asking questions about the past…”
Julian stopped.
“About the past?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Julian looked at me.
And for the first time since I met him, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.
“He said we should never answer.”
Neither of us spoke.
The room was silent.
Because suddenly, this was no longer just my family’s secret.
Somehow…
Somehow Julian’s family was connected.
A knock came at the door.
We both froze.
I wasn’t expecting anyone.
Neither was he.
Another knock.
Slow.
Deliberate.
I walked toward the door.
“Who is it?”
For a moment, there was no answer.
Then a woman’s voice spoke from the other side.
A voice older than the one on the recording.
But familiar.
A voice I had spent fifteen years imagining.
“Emma.”
My entire body went still.
Julian looked at me.
The color disappeared from his face.
Because he recognized the voice too.
The woman continued.
“I know you have questions.”
My hand moved toward the door.
