CHAPTER 6 – The Mother They Told Them To Forget
CHAPTER 6 – The Mother They Told Them To Forget
The photograph sat on Andrew’s desk all night.
He did not sleep.
He did not move.
He simply stared at the image that had turned his entire world upside down.
A picture of himself.
Standing outside the burning house.
Holding the security access card.
Looking like the person responsible.
For three years, Andrew had searched for the person who destroyed his family.
He blamed the fire.
He blamed the person who started it.
He blamed the people who lied.
But he never considered one possibility.
That he was somehow part of the truth.
"Andrew."
Clara's voice pulled him back.
She stood beside the desk, holding two cups of coffee.
"You haven't slept."
He didn't answer.
She looked at the photograph again.
Her expression was full of confusion.
"Something is wrong."
Andrew looked at her.
"You said you remember me being there."
Clara nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"Then explain."
She closed her eyes.
Trying to force memories that were buried beneath pain.
"The night of the fire..."
Her voice trembled.
"You weren't supposed to be home."
Andrew frowned.
"What?"
"You told me you were going to a business dinner."
"I was."
"I know."
Clara looked at the photograph.
"But I remember hearing your voice."
Andrew went still.
"My voice?"
"Yes."
The room became colder.
"You were arguing with someone."
"Who?"
Clara shook her head.
"I don't know."
She pressed her fingers against her temple.
"I was confused."
"The smoke."
"The fire."
"The pain."
Andrew watched helplessly.
He wanted to ask more.
But he could see how much it hurt her.
"Take your time."
He whispered.
Clara looked at him.
A sad smile appeared.
"You always said that."
Andrew froze.
"What?"
"When I was stressed."
"When I couldn't decide something."
"You always told me..."
She looked away.
"Take your time, Clara. I'm here."
Andrew felt his chest tighten.
Because she remembered.
Not the important things.
Not the things people could fake.
The small things.
The things only his wife knew.
Later that morning, Andrew called Dr. Marcus Hale.
The neurologist who had treated Clara after the fire.
The man who was supposed to have no connection to the Whitmore family.
But Andrew discovered something strange.
Marcus had treated Clara under a false name.
When the doctor arrived, he looked nervous.
Very nervous.
"Mr. Whitmore."
Andrew did not offer a seat.
"You treated my wife."
Marcus swallowed.
"I treated a patient."
"Her name was Clara."
The doctor looked at Clara.
Then lowered his eyes.
"You knew she survived."
It was not a question.
Marcus sighed.
"Yes."
Andrew's anger exploded.
"You knew?"
"You knew my wife was alive for three years?"
"I was ordered not to tell you."
"By who?"
The doctor hesitated.
"Thomas Whitmore."
Andrew stepped back.
Another betrayal.
Another person who knew.
"Why?"
Marcus looked at Clara.
"Because she was in danger."
Andrew laughed bitterly.
"Danger from who?"
The doctor did not answer.
Because the answer was obvious.
"Tell him everything."
Clara whispered.
Marcus looked at her.
"You are sure?"
She nodded.
The doctor took a deep breath.
"After the fire, Clara had severe burns and memory loss."
"Thomas brought her to me."
Andrew's eyes narrowed.
"Thomas saved her?"
Marcus nodded.
"At first, I thought he did."
"But?"
"But then I discovered he wasn't trying to protect her."
"What was he doing?"
The doctor looked uncomfortable.
"He was waiting."
Andrew stared.
"Waiting for what?"
"For her to remember."
The words made no sense.
"Why?"
"Because Clara saw something."
Everyone became silent.
"What did she see?"
Marcus looked at Clara.
"She saw who started the fire."
The room went completely still.
Andrew looked at his wife.
"You know who did it?"
Clara's face changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
"I know who was there."
"Who?"
She whispered:
"Your father."
Andrew froze.
"My father died ten years ago."
Clara nodded.
"I know."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I saw his car."
Andrew stared.
"The night of the fire, your father's old driver was there."
Andrew's mind raced.
His father.
His family.
Secrets.
"Why would my father do this?"
Clara shook her head.
"I don't know."
"But Thomas knew."
That afternoon, Andrew went into the old family archives.
A place he had not entered since his father died.
The room smelled like old paper and forgotten memories.
Daniel searched through records.
Clara stood nearby.
Then Noah and Ethan entered.
Andrew immediately turned.
"What are you doing here?"
Noah looked serious.
"We want to help."
Andrew wanted to refuse.
To protect them.
But then he remembered.
Keeping children away from the truth was how the lies began.
"Okay."
He knelt.
"But if anything feels scary, you tell me."
Both boys nodded.
They searched for hours.
Then Ethan stopped.
"Daddy."
Andrew looked up.
"What?"
"I remember this."
The boy pointed to an old wooden cabinet.
"What do you remember?"
Ethan touched the cabinet.
"Mommy put something here."
Andrew opened it.
Nothing.
Then Noah spoke.
"Not there."
Everyone looked at him.
"Behind it."
Andrew moved the cabinet.
Behind it was a small space.
Inside was another box.
Clara covered her mouth.
"I forgot."
Andrew opened it.
Inside were several letters.
And a small video recorder.
Daniel picked it up.
"It survived?"
A miracle.
They connected it to a computer.
The screen flickered.
Static.
Then...
Clara appeared.
Three years younger.
Alive.
Smiling.
Andrew stopped breathing.
The video showed Clara sitting in the nursery.
Holding baby pictures.
Her voice was calm.
But her eyes were afraid.
"If something happens to me..."
The recording continued.
"Andrew, please don't blame yourself."
Andrew closed his eyes.
Already knowing what was coming.
"The person trying to destroy us wants you to believe you failed."
"But you didn't."
Clara on the screen looked directly into the camera.
"Someone in this family wants the boys to forget me."
The real Clara began crying.
The video continued.
"They will tell my children their mother abandoned them."
"They will tell Andrew I left."
A pause.
Then Clara whispered:
"But my boys..."
"Never forget."
Noah grabbed Clara's hand.
Ethan started crying.
Because they were finally hearing their mother's voice again.
Then the video reached the final seconds.
Clara looked behind the camera.
Her expression changed.
Fear.
Someone had entered the room.
A man's voice was heard.
"Clara."
Andrew froze.
Because he knew that voice.
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then Daniel whispered:
"Who was that?"
Andrew looked at the black screen.
His face was pale.
Because there was no mistake.
The voice belonged to the man who had comforted him at his wife's funeral.
The man who claimed he loved his family.
Thomas Whitmore.
But before anyone could react...
The office door opened.
A security officer stood there.
"Mr. Whitmore..."
Andrew turned.
The officer looked terrified.
"We found Thomas."
Everyone stood.
"Where?"
The officer swallowed.
"At the old house."
Andrew frowned.
"What old house?"
The officer looked at Clara.
"The house where the fire happened."
Silence.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
"He wasn't alone."
Andrew felt cold.
"Who was with him?"
The officer answered:
May you like
"Victoria Laurent."
End of Chapter 6
