Chapter 4 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE GRAVEViktor read the message three times.
Each time, the words seemed to become more impossible.
Their mother had died seven years earlier.
Her name was Elena Sokolov.
She had been a nurse at a private medical clinic outside Chicago, a woman who worked double shifts and still found enough energy to leave warm meals on the table for her sons.
Viktor remembered her laughter.
He remembered her tired hands.
And he remembered the night a police officer came to their apartment and told them she had died in a highway accident.
There had been no open-casket funeral.
The medical examiner had identified her remains.
The death certificate listed severe injuries from a collision.
For seven years, Viktor had accepted that explanation.
Now he looked at Milan.
“What happened to Mom?”
Milan shook his head.
“I don't know everything.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
Jeanne stood nearby, leaning against a tree.
The rain had become heavier.
Viktor could see that she was cold and exhausted.
But he couldn't make himself move.
Milan wiped his eyes.
“Six months ago, I got a letter.”
“From whom?”
“There wasn't a name.”
“What did it say?”
“That Mom didn't die in an accident.”
Viktor felt his pulse pounding.
“And you believed it?”
“At first, no.”
Milan reached into his jacket and removed a folded photograph.
He handed it over.
Viktor unfolded it carefully.
The image showed their mother standing outside a medical building.
Beside her stood Thomas Bennett.
The photograph was dated three days before her death.
Viktor stared.
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“I know.”
Milan swallowed.
“Then they sent me a copy of her personnel file.”
“What file?”
“She wasn't just a nurse.”
Viktor looked up.
“She worked at Saint Agnes Medical Center.”
“That was her public job.”
Milan's voice dropped.
“She was also helping a federal investigation.”
The forest seemed to fall silent.
Viktor looked down at the photograph again.
His mother.
Thomas Bennett.
A medical building he didn't recognize.
“What investigation?”
Milan shook his head.
“Something involving stolen medication, illegal clinical trials, and money laundering.”
Viktor struggled to understand.
Their mother had always been careful.
She avoided trouble.
She taught her sons to tell the truth even when it cost them something.
Why would she become involved with criminals?
Then he remembered something.
A week before her death, Elena had come home frightened.
She had locked the apartment door twice.
When Viktor asked what was wrong, she told him that sometimes doing the right thing meant making dangerous people angry.
He had forgotten that conversation.
Or perhaps he had forced himself to forget it.
Now the memory returned with terrible clarity.
“What did Bennett have to do with it?” Viktor asked.
Milan shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Viktor stared at him.
“Then why did they threaten to tell me what happened to her?”
“Because they said I helped cover it up.”
The words struck Viktor like a physical blow.
He stepped backward.
“What?”
Milan began shaking.
“I was nineteen.”
Viktor stared.
“Explain.”
“The night Mom died, she called me.”
Viktor's throat tightened.
“She called you?”
Milan nodded.
“She said somebody was following her. She told me to meet her at a gas station outside the city.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she made me promise not to.”
Viktor felt anger rising.
“What happened?”
Milan looked toward the ground.
“I went there. But before she arrived, a man approached me.”
“Who?”
“Bennett.”
Viktor's breath caught.
“He told me Mom had gotten involved in something dangerous. He said the police couldn't protect her.”
“And you believed him?”
“He showed me pictures of our apartment. Of you going to work. Of me leaving school.”
Milan's voice broke.
“He said if I wanted our family to survive, I had to give him the envelope Mom had hidden in my backpack.”
Viktor closed his eyes.
“What envelope?”
“I didn't know what was inside.”
“Did you give it to him?”
Milan nodded.
“Yes.”
Viktor looked away.
He remembered their mother's funeral.
Milan had barely spoken.
For weeks, he refused to eat.
Viktor had assumed it was grief.
Now he understood it had been something else.
Guilt.
A terrible, crushing guilt.
Milan continued.
“Bennett told me Mom would be safe if I cooperated.”
Viktor opened his eyes.
“And then?”
“Two hours later, the police called.”
Milan's face crumpled.
“They said she was dead.”
For several seconds, Viktor couldn't speak.
He wanted to blame his brother.
Part of him did.
But another part remembered what it meant to be nineteen, frightened, and desperate to protect someone you loved.
Milan had made a terrible choice.
Yet the real responsibility belonged to the men who had manipulated him.
Viktor folded the photograph.
“We need to find out what was in that envelope.”
Jeanne spoke for the first time in several minutes.
“Gabriel might know.”
Viktor turned.
She looked toward the farmhouse.
“My son has spent years investigating something he never discusses. Sometimes he comes here late at night. Sometimes he doesn't sleep.”
Her voice trembled.
“He thinks I don't notice.”
Viktor looked toward the distant smoke.
“Why didn't he tell you?”
Jeanne smiled sadly.
“Because he believes protecting people means carrying every burden alone.”
Viktor felt the words settle heavily in his chest.
He had done the same thing with Milan.
And perhaps that was why both brothers had ended up here.
Suddenly, the phone vibrated.
Another message appeared.
NINE MINUTES.
Then a second.
ASK GABRIEL WHY HE SIGNED YOUR MOTHER'S DEATH REPORT.
Viktor froze.
He stared at the screen.
Gabriel Morel had investigated their mother's death?
Seven years earlier?
Before the robbery?
Before the arrest?
Before Viktor had ever heard his name?
He looked toward the farmhouse.
And for the first time, he wondered whether Gabriel had been part of his life long before they met.
Then the phone rang.
Unknown number.
Viktor answered.
A man's voice spoke.
“Hello, Viktor.”
Bennett.
Viktor clenched his jaw.
“What do you want?”
“Something Gabriel stole from me.”
“The recording?”
Bennett laughed.
“No.”
A pause.
May you like
Then the words that changed everything.
“I want the evidence your mother died trying to protect. And Gabriel Morel has been hiding it from you for seven years.”
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