Richard answered.

“The proof.””

I looked at the paper.

A transfer record.

A payment.

A name.

Michael Reed.

But the date shocked me.

The transaction happened ten years before the recent theft.

Before the company problems started.

Before Richard disappeared.

I looked up.

“What is this?””

Richard’s expression turned dark.

“The reason I came back.””

My father grabbed the document.

His face changed.

“What did you do?””

Richard looked at him.

“I didn’t do this.””

“Then who did?””

Richard slowly turned toward me.

And whispered:

“Your mother’s death was not an accident.””

The room went silent.

I felt the air disappear.

My mother.

The woman I lost as a child.

The woman everyone told me was gone because of fate.

Richard pushed the document toward me.

“The person who destroyed that dress…”

Chapter 9: The Final Piece of the Puzzle

I stared at the document in front of me.

For years, I had believed my mother’s death was a tragedy.

A terrible accident.

Something painful, but unavoidable.

Now, sitting across from my uncle, watching my father’s face lose all color, I realized there had been another story hidden beneath the one I was given.

“What are you saying?”” I whispered.

Richard looked at me.

“I’m saying your mother discovered something she was never supposed to see.””

My father stood abruptly.

“Enough.””

Everyone turned.

His voice was sharp.

“Richard, you don’t get to walk in here after twenty years and rewrite history.””

Richard didn’t react.

“I’m not rewriting anything.””

“You disappeared.””

“Because you told me to leave.””

“Because you betrayed me.””

Richard leaned forward.

“No. Because I took the blame for something I didn’t do.””

The tension between them filled the room.

I looked at my father.

“Dad.””

He stopped.

I had never heard my father sound afraid before.

Not during business crises.

Not during lawsuits.

Not when competitors attacked the company.

But now?

Now he looked afraid.

“Tell me the truth.””

He looked at me.

And for a long moment, he said nothing.

Then he sat down.

“Your mother found financial records connected to Michael.””

My hands tightened.

“I know.””

“No.””

My father shook his head.

“You don’t know everything.””

Richard stayed silent.

My father continued.

“She discovered Michael wasn’t working alone.””

“Richard?””

My father looked at him.

“Yes.””

Richard immediately stood.

“No.””

My father raised a hand.

“Let me finish.””

The room became still.

“Your mother believed Richard was involved.””

I looked at Richard.

He looked away.

“But later,” my father continued, “we found evidence that someone had manipulated the records.””

My heart raced.

“Meaning?””

“Meaning Richard was framed.””

I looked between them.

“You thought he betrayed you.””

“Yes.””

“And you were wrong.””

My father nodded slowly.

“Yes.””

The admission seemed painful.

Twenty years of anger.

Twenty years of silence.

All because of a lie.

“Why didn’t you tell me?””

My father looked down.

“Because after your mother died, I couldn’t handle losing anyone else.””

I swallowed.

“You pushed Richard away.””

“Yes.””

“You pushed everyone away.””

He didn’t deny it.

Richard looked at him.

“You built walls and called them protection.””

My father closed his eyes.

Maybe because the words hurt.

Maybe because they were true.

The attorney interrupted.

“Regardless of what happened twenty years ago, we still need to identify who is behind the current attack.””

Richard nodded.

“That person is Michael.””

I looked at him.

“You’re sure?””

“Yes.””

“Why?””

Richard pulled out another folder.

“Because Michael has been collecting information for years.””

Inside were copies of emails.

Financial reports.

Private communications.

I scanned the pages.

Then I saw it.

A signature.

Not my father’s.

Not Richard’s.

Michael’s.

“He planned this.””

Richard nodded.

“He waited until the company became vulnerable.””

“Because of me.””

“Yes.””

I looked at the documents again.

The transfer date.

The inventory manipulation.

The fake ownership records.

Everything connected.

But one thing bothered me.

“Why the emerald dress?””

Richard looked at me.

“Because Michael knew it mattered.””

“To my father?””

“To your whole family.””

He explained.

The anniversary collection was more than a business event.

It was the first public appearance of the company’s new generation.

My generation.

If the event failed, investors would panic.

If the owner’s daughter was accused of damaging the most valuable piece, rumors would spread.

The perfect scandal.

A perfect distraction.

My phone suddenly rang.

Unknown number.

Everyone froze.

I answered.

“Hello?””

Silence.

Then a voice.

Michael.

“You’re smarter than I expected.””

My grip tightened.

“You’re finished.””

He laughed.

“No.””

“You attacked my family.””

“I corrected a mistake.””

“A mistake?””

“Yes.””

His voice became colder.

“Your father stole something that belonged to my family.””

I frowned.

“What are you talking about?””

“My father built half of this company.””

Richard shook his head.

“Lies.””

Michael continued.

“Ask your father about the original partnership.””

I looked at my father.

His expression changed.

Michael noticed.

“Ah.””

A pause.

“He never told you.””

I said nothing.

Michael laughed softly.