Chapter 4: Ryan Carter Was Alive And Jenna Had Known All Along
Chapter 4: Ryan Carter Was Alive And Jenna Had Known All Along
For several seconds, I couldn’t process the name.
Ryan Carter.
My brother.
Dead for five years.
That was what everyone had told me.
The police.
The hospital.
Our parents.
The lawyer who handled his affairs.
Even the funeral had happened.
I had stood beside his empty coffin because his body had never been recovered.
And now Jenna was standing in my office telling me he was alive.
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head.
“I wish I were.”
“Ryan is dead.”
“He isn’t.”
I backed away from her.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve met him.”
The room suddenly felt too small.
“When?”
“Last year.”
I stared at her.
“You met my dead brother last year?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t?”
She stepped closer.
“Alex, listen to me. I was supposed to get close to you because Ryan wanted information about your company.”
My jaw tightened.
“You said you fell in love with me.”
“I did.”
“Then you had plenty of opportunities to tell me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Ryan?”
“Yes.”
That answer came without hesitation.
For the first time, I believed her fear was real.
“What does he want?”
“Your company.”
“He could have bought it.”
“He tried.”
I looked at the contract on my desk.
“Northstar.”
She nodded.
“Ryan created it.”
“Why hide behind another company?”
“Because he needed plausible distance. If you knew he was alive, you’d never agree to anything.”
I paced across the office.
“So he sent you.”
“Yes.”
“To spy on me.”
“Yes.”
“To sleep with Mark?”
Her eyes dropped.
“No.”
“Then why Mark?”
“Mark was already involved with Ryan.”
“Was he?”
“He still is.”
I stopped.
“Then why did you sleep with him?”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“I told you why.”
“No. You blamed me.”
“I was angry.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
She wiped her face.
“I was trying to convince myself I didn’t love you.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“Every time Ryan contacted me, he reminded me what I had agreed to do. He told me you were only a target. That you would eventually figure out what I was doing. That I should never get attached.”
“And Mark?”
“He was part of the same operation.”
“So you used him.”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
There were a thousand things I wanted to say.
Instead, I asked,
“Where is Ryan?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve met him.”
“He never tells me where he is.”
“Then how do you contact him?”
“I don’t.”
She reached into her purse.
“He contacts me.”
She pulled out a small envelope.
My name was written across the front.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
Ryan’s.
My brother had always written with a slight tilt to the right.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single photograph.
Ryan was standing outside a warehouse.
Alive.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably him.
Behind him was a sign.
Carter Logistics — Columbus Division.
I looked at Jenna.
“What is this?”
“He wants you to see it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
I turned the photograph over.
There was a message on the back.
You always wanted to know why I disappeared. Ask Alex about the night Dad died.
My hands went cold.
I looked at Jenna.
“What does my father have to do with this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying again.”
“I swear I’m not.”
I remembered that night.
I had been nineteen.
Ryan had been twenty-four.
Our father had died suddenly after years of heart problems.
Ryan had blamed himself for not being there.
A year later, Ryan disappeared.
Then came the supposed accident.
The police had found his abandoned car near a bridge.
No body.
No explanation.
We had eventually accepted the worst.
Or tried to.
I looked at the photograph again.
“Why would Ryan mention Dad?”
Jenna shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
My phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
She’s telling you only half of it.
I showed Jenna.
She went pale.
Another message appeared.
Ask her what happened at the hotel.
I looked at her.
“What hotel?”
She didn’t answer.
“Jenna.”
She closed her eyes.
“The Hilton.”
“Which Hilton?”
“Downtown.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
I stared at her.
Four years.
The same year we met.
“What happened?”
“You weren’t supposed to know.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That seems to be everyone’s favorite sentence.”
She looked at me.
“Ryan was there.”
“Why?”
“To meet someone.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
I stopped breathing.
“That was impossible.”
“He was alive.”
I shook my head.
“My father was dead.”
“That’s what you were told.”
I stepped toward her.
“Are you saying my father was alive too?”
“No.”
She hesitated.
“He was already dead.”
“Then who did Ryan meet?”
She looked at the photograph.
“Someone who claimed to have been working with him.”
“Who?”
“Your father’s former business partner.”
I frowned.
“My father didn’t have a business partner.”
“He did.”
“Who?”
She whispered the name.
“Daniel Carter.”
I stared at her.
My father’s brother.
My uncle.
The man who had supposedly moved overseas before I was born.
I suddenly remembered family photographs.
There had always been one missing person.
A man my mother refused to talk about.
Daniel.
I sat down.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because your family was protecting you.”
“From what?”
She didn’t answer.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a video.
I opened it.
Ryan appeared on screen.
He was sitting in a dark room.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Alex.”
My heart stopped.
“If you’re watching this, Jenna finally told you enough to make you dangerous.”
He paused.
“I know you’re angry.”
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
“You should be.”
Then his expression changed.
“Five years ago, I didn’t disappear because I wanted to leave you.”
He leaned closer.
“I disappeared because I discovered Dad didn’t die naturally.”
I stared at the screen.
Ryan continued.
“And the person responsible wasn’t a stranger.”
The video ended.
A second message appeared.
Look behind the filing cabinet.
I turned toward the cabinet.
Jenna grabbed my arm.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because if you find what’s behind it, there’s no going back.”
I pulled her hand away.
Then I moved the cabinet.
There was a small metal box built into the wall.
I stared at it.
A keyhole.
Jenna whispered,
“Alex…”
I reached into my pocket.
The key I’d carried for years suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before.
Because I remembered where I’d gotten it.
My father had given it to me the night before he died.
I’d always thought it was for an old storage unit.
I inserted it into the lock.
It clicked.
The box opened.
Inside was a stack of photographs.
Bank statements.
A passport.
And one document bearing my father’s signature.
I picked it up.
At the bottom of the page were three names.
My father.
Ryan.
And Jenna.
But the date was impossible.
It was signed two years before Jenna and I ever met.
