Chapter 5 - The Lie Meant to Protect Me
I knew Joseph was lying before he sat down.
He was too calm.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Show me my phone."
His eyes narrowed.
"Amanda—"
"Joseph."
He handed it over.
The message was gone.
But I'd already seen the copy sent to my email.
I turned the screen toward him.
His jaw tightened.
"You deleted it."
"I didn't want you seeing it tonight."
"You mean you didn't want me making decisions with all the information."
"I wanted you resting."
"That's what Ryan used to say."
The words hit him.
I regretted them instantly.
But I didn't take them back.
Joseph stood.
"I deserved that."
"You don't get to protect me by controlling what I know."
"You're right."
"Stop agreeing with me when I'm angry."
A surprised laugh escaped him.
I hated that it made me smile.
Then I became serious.
"What aren't you telling me about Carmona?"
Joseph sat again.
"My father had a partner named Mateo Carmona. They built their first shipping company together."
"What happened?"
"My father accused him of stealing."
"Was he?"
"I don't know anymore."
Joseph looked toward the hospital window.
"Carmona disappeared. Years later, we were told he'd died in Brazil."
"But someone is using his name."
"Yes."
"Who knew him?"
"My mother. Daniel's father. Marco."
"And Ryan?"
Joseph looked at me sharply.
"Why would Ryan know him?"
"I don't know."
But the question stayed with me.
Two days later, I returned to the estate.
I rested.
Mostly.
Joseph became irritatingly attentive.
He brought water every hour.
He banned work after nine.
When I accused him of hovering, he bought a book titled How Not to Annoy a Pregnant Woman and left it on my nightstand.
"You bought this?"
"I was desperate."
"Have you read it?"
"Chapter three says chocolate."
"That's suspiciously convenient."
"I highlighted it."
Against every sensible instinct, I was falling for him.
Not the reputation.
Not the money.
The man who kept ultrasound photographs inside his wallet.
The man who whispered goodnight to my stomach when he thought I was asleep.
The man who never touched me without checking my face first.
Then Ryan called.
I nearly ignored it.
Something stopped me.
"Hello?"
"Amanda."
His voice sounded wrong.
"What?"
"We need to talk."
"No."
"About Raldi."
I stood.
"What about him?"
"Meet me."
"Absolutely not."
"Your baby's in danger."
My blood went cold.
"How do you know?"
Silence.
"Ryan?"
"I found something."
"Tell me now."
"Not over the phone."
I told Joseph.
He didn't forbid me from going.
He simply said, "I'm coming."
Ryan chose a crowded restaurant in Coconut Grove.
When we arrived, he looked exhausted.
No girlfriend.
No smug smile.
Joseph sat beside me.
Ryan stared at him.
"I asked for Amanda."
"Then talk to Amanda."
Ryan pushed a flash drive across the table.
"I work in commercial real estate. Six months ago, my firm handled a warehouse sale."
Joseph's eyes sharpened.
"Which warehouse?"
"Medley."
Joseph went still.
Ryan continued.
"The buyer used a shell company. Carmona Maritime."
I stared.
"You knew?"
"Not then."
"Why are you telling us now?"
Ryan looked ashamed.
"Because someone paid me to find out whether Amanda was pregnant."
My stomach dropped.
Joseph's voice became deadly quiet.
"Who?"
"I never met him."
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
"Before the café?"
Ryan nodded.
"I thought it was about insurance or something."
"You accepted money to investigate your ex-wife?"
Ryan looked at me.
"I was angry."
"That's your excuse?"
"No."
For once, he didn't defend himself.
He pushed the drive closer.
"Everything I have is there."
Joseph didn't touch it.
"Why change your mind?"
Ryan swallowed.
"Because yesterday the man called again."
"What did he want?"
Ryan looked directly at my stomach.
"He wanted to know which hospital Amanda uses."
Joseph stood so quickly the table shook.
"I didn't tell him."
Ryan raised both hands.
"I swear."
Joseph leaned across the table.
"If you're lying—"
"Joseph."
He stopped.
I put my hand on his arm.
He looked at me.
I shook my head.
He slowly sat.
Ryan stared at us.
Something complicated crossed his face.
Maybe he finally understood the difference between fear and respect.
"I was cruel to you," he said.
I blinked.
Ryan continued.
"For years."
This apology was eight months too late.
Maybe three years too late.
But I listened.
"I kept telling myself you were too sensitive. Then I watched him stop because you asked."
Ryan glanced at Joseph.
"I don't think I ever stopped."
"No," I said. "You didn't."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't forgive him.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
But I believed he meant it.
Joseph took the drive.
That night, Marco decrypted the files.
They contained photographs.
Bank records.
Shipping manifests.
And surveillance.
Dozens of photographs of me.
At grocery stores.
Doctor appointments.
My apartment.
Then Joseph opened the final folder.
He froze.
"What?"
He turned the laptop toward me.
A photograph showed Ryan meeting a man outside the Medley warehouse.
The man's face was partially visible.
Joseph recognized him.
"Who is that?"
His answer came quietly.
"Marco's brother."
I stared.
"Marco has a brother?"
"Had."
"What do you mean?"
Joseph looked toward the doorway.
Marco was standing there.
His face had gone completely pale.
"My brother died fifteen years ago."
On the screen, the photograph carried a timestamp.
Six days earlier.
And suddenly every person in the room understood the same thing.
The dead were not returning.
May you like
Someone had been lying about who was dead.
And they had been lying for years.
