Chapter 6: The Room With No Windows
The next morning, I sat across from an investigator in a small conference room on campus.
No windows.
No distractions.
Just a stack of documents between us.
Detective Aaron Miles flipped through the pages carefully.
“I’m going to ask you something, Simone.””
I nodded.
“Were you aware of any financial arrangements involving your name?””
“No.””
“Did you authorize any loans?””
“No.””
“Did you sign any insurance paperwork?””
“No.””
He wrote something down.
“Then why would your family do this?””
I stared at the table.
Because that was the question everyone kept asking.
Why?
Why would parents destroy their own child?
Why would a brother accept it?
Why would a mother watch silently?
The answer was sitting somewhere inside the years I had spent blaming myself.
“I don’t know.””
The door opened.
Camille walked in carrying two coffees.
“I brought the one with extra sugar.””
I looked at her.
A small smile appeared.
“You remembered.””
“I remember everything about you.””
The words hurt.
Because she did.
She remembered my favorite coffee.
My exam schedule.
The nights I cried.
And she still kept secrets.
Detective Miles left us alone for a moment.
Camille sat down.
“I owe you an apology.””
I looked at the coffee.
“Yes.””
She nodded.
“I know.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
She took a deep breath.
“Because your father threatened my family.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“My mom was about to lose her job.””
“That’s not an excuse.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“It’s the reason. Not an excuse.””
I studied her face.
For years, I had thought betrayal always looked cruel.
I was learning something worse.
Sometimes betrayal looked like fear.
Sometimes it looked like someone you loved making the wrong choice because they were scared.
“What did he threaten you with?””
Camille looked away.
“He said if I told you, he would destroy your chance of graduating.””
I frowned.
“How?””
“He had people at the university.””
The room suddenly felt colder.
My father didn’t just lie.
He planned.
He manipulated.
He built an entire system around keeping me quiet.
The door opened again.
Detective Miles returned.
He placed a folder on the table.
“We found something.””
I opened it.
Inside was a report.
My name was at the top.
My hands went still.
“What is this?””
“A medical record request.””
I looked confused.
“I’ve never requested medical records.””
Detective Miles nodded.
“That’s the problem.””
I read the document.
A request had been submitted six years ago.
Using my information.
My signature.
My authorization.
Except I had never done it.
“Why would someone request my medical records?””
Detective Miles hesitated.
“Because of what was included in the insurance file.””
My heart sank.
“What?””
He looked at me carefully.
“The policy wasn’t created because your father wanted money if you died.””
I felt sick.
“Then why?””
He pushed another page toward me.
“This policy was designed around a specific condition.””
I read the line.
Then read it again.
A condition I had never been diagnosed with.
A condition someone had invented.
Someone had created a fake medical history.
Someone had built a reason for me to disappear.
My phone vibrated.
One final message.
From my father.
*You wanted the truth, Simone. Fine. Come home.*
A second message appeared.
*Bring Victor’s documents.*
Then the third.
*Because your grandfather didn’t leave you an inheritance.*
I stopped breathing.
May you like
The final message loaded.
*He left you evidence.*
