Chapter 7 - The Room Without a Camera
I eventually removed most of the hidden cameras.
Not all.
Some remained for security.
But the cameras inside the bedrooms were gone.
The control room became a storage room.
I stopped watching Matteo sleep.
I started walking into his room and asking him how his day was.
That was harder.
It was also better.
Clara noticed.
"You're changing."
"I've been informed."
"By whom?"
"My son."
Matteo rolled his eyes.
"You two talk too much."
He was ten now.
Louder.
Funnier.
Angrier.
More alive.
Elena gave birth to a daughter named Sofia.
The house became chaos.
Beautiful chaos.
I had spent years believing quiet meant safety.
Now I understood that silence could also mean loneliness.
One afternoon, Elena came to me.
"You haven't told Clara."
"Told her what?"
"What happened to your father."
I stared at her.
"What are you talking about?"
"The real reason you installed the first hidden cameras."
I remembered.
It had started before Elena died.
My father had been paranoid.
He taught me that betrayal could come from anyone.
I had inherited his fear.
But Elena had never asked me to stop protecting.
She had asked me to stop disappearing behind protection.
That night, I told Clara everything.
She listened.
Then she asked,
"Do you still think everyone will betray you?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Completely?"
I smiled.
"No one trusts anyone completely."
She nodded.
"Fair."
"But I choose you anyway."
She smiled.
"That's better."
Then she placed a hand on my chest.
"I don't need you to stop being careful."
"What do you need?"
"I need you to stop believing safety means control."
I kissed her forehead.
"I'm trying."
"You're getting better."
The next morning, there was a package at the gate.
No sender.
Inside was a small wooden box.
I knew it immediately.
It belonged to my father.
Inside was an old photograph.
My father.
Elena.
Gregor Hayes.
And a baby.
I stared.
The baby was me.
On the back were four words.
HE NEVER TOLD YOU EVERYTHING.
Elena saw it.
Her face changed.
"Who is that?"
I pointed to Gregor.
"Clara's father."
She shook her head.
"No."
"What?"
"That's not Gregor Hayes."
"What?"
She looked closer.
"That man is someone else."
Clara entered.
She saw the picture.
Her face went white.
"My father?"
"No."
Elena shook her head.
"Gregor died when you were twenty."
Clara looked confused.
"Then who is that?"
We spent hours identifying the man.
Finally, Daniel found the answer.
The man was Gabriel Voss.
An old fixer connected to my father's organization.
He had vanished twenty-two years earlier.
And he had a daughter.
A daughter named Rachel.
Rachel had been Elena's closest friend.
She had disappeared after the bombing.
We searched again.
This time we found her.
She was living under another name.
She came willingly.
And when she saw me, she cried.
"I'm sorry."
I looked at her.
"For what?"
"Your father ordered the bombing."
I knew.
"Why were you involved?"
"I wasn't."
She looked at Clara.
"Your father wasn't Gregor."
Clara's eyes widened.
"What?"
"He changed his identity after leaving the organization."
She handed Clara an old file.
"Your real father was Gabriel Voss."
Clara staggered backward.
"What?"
I looked at the photograph again.
The man beside my father.
The man who had watched over Elena.
The man who had later betrayed her.
It all fit.
Clara had spent her life hating the wrong man.
Her biological father had been one of the architects of the world that destroyed ours.
I turned to her.
"Are you okay?"
She laughed weakly.
"Apparently my family tree is a criminal investigation."
I pulled her into my arms.
She cried.
Not because she had learned she was dangerous.
Because she had learned she wasn't responsible.
That night, she asked me a question.
"Do you regret meeting me?"
I stared at her.
"Never."
"Even after all of this?"
"Especially after all of this."
She smiled through tears.
"Why?"
"Because the worst things in our past don't have to decide who we become."
She touched my face.
"That sounds like something Elena would say."
"She probably would."
We laughed.
Then Matteo appeared at the doorway.
"Are you getting married?"
We both froze.
Clara laughed.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because Dad looks nervous."
I glared at him.
He grinned.
Then he ran.
Clara looked at me.
"Are you nervous?"
May you like
"Very."
"Good."
