My father didn’t sleep that night.

Neither did I.

The house was silent, but it didn’t feel peaceful.

It felt like the moment before a storm.

At six in the morning, I found Dad sitting alone at the kitchen table.

The same table where he had accused me.

The same place where everything had fallen apart.

But now he looked different.

Older.

Broken.

“Maya.””

I stopped.

“Can we talk?””

I almost walked away.

Almost.

But then I remembered something.

Even after everything…

He was still my dad.

I sat across from him.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

Finally, he said:

“I owe you an apology.””

I looked down.

“I waited months to hear that.””

His eyes filled with regret.

“I know.””

“No, you don’t.””

I looked at him.

“You believed I hated you.””

He nodded.

“I was wrong.””

“You didn’t even ask me.””

That hurt him.

I could see it.

“I thought you were growing up and didn’t need me anymore.””

I laughed quietly.

“Dad, I was seventeen.””

“I know.””

“I needed you more than ever.””

He covered his face with his hands.

“I should have known.””

A noise came from the hallway.

We both looked up.

Nicole stood there.

Watching us.

“I guess this is the emotional reunion part.””

Dad’s expression changed instantly.

“Leave us alone.””

She smiled.

“You still think I’m the problem.””

“Yes.””

The confidence in his answer surprised me.

Nicole walked into the kitchen.

“You should ask Maya why she was searching for those files.””

I frowned.

“What files?””

Dad looked at Nicole.

“What are you talking about?””

“The accident records.””

My heart dropped.

“I never searched anything.””

Nicole looked at Dad.

“She did.””

“That’s a lie.””

Nicole shook her head.

“Richard, you know how easy it is to check browser history.””

Dad looked at me.

I shook my head.

“I didn’t.””

Then I remembered.

Two weeks earlier.

I had used the family computer.

I had searched my mother’s name.

Not because I suspected my dad.

Because I missed her.

Because I wanted to know who she was before I lost her.

“I looked up Mom,” I admitted.

Dad looked surprised.

“Why?””

“Because I don’t remember enough.””

His face softened.

“I wanted to know more about her.””

Nicole interrupted.

“And she found something.””

I looked at her.

“What?””

Nicole smiled.

“The truth.””

Dad stood.

“Stop talking in riddles.””

Nicole pulled a folder from her bag.

Another one.

Of course.

She always had something prepared.

She placed it on the table.

“Open it.””

Dad didn’t move.

“Maya.””

I looked at him.

Something told me this was the moment everything changed.

He opened the folder.

Inside were police reports.

Insurance documents.

And a photograph.

My mother’s car.

The same one from the accident.

Dad stared at the papers.

“What is this?””

Nicole spoke softly.

“The accident report was changed.””

My heart stopped.

Dad looked up.

“What?””

“Someone removed information.””

“Who?””

Nicole didn’t answer.

She looked at me.

Then back at him.

“Your daughter knows.””

I stood up.

“No, I don’t.””

Dad looked confused.

“Maya?””

“I don’t know anything.””

Nicole smiled.

“You do.””

I felt anger rising.

“Stop saying that.””

She walked closer.

“Your mother called you that night.””

The room went silent.

My father looked at me.

“What?””

I froze.

Because I remembered.

A phone call.

A missed call.

A voicemail.

Something I had buried deep because I was only eleven.

“She called you?”” Dad whispered.

I looked away.

“I don’t remember.””

Nicole’s voice became softer.

“She called three times.””

Dad stared.

“Why didn’t you tell me?””

Tears filled my eyes.

“Because I was a kid.””

“What did she say?””

I shook my head.

“I don’t know.””

But that wasn’t completely true.

There was one thing I remembered.

One sentence.

One frightened whisper.

My mother’s voice through the phone.

“Maya, if anything happens…”

I covered my mouth.

Dad stood.

“What?””

I looked at him.

“I remember.””

Everyone went quiet.

“She said…”

My voice trembled.

“She said, ‘Don’t let him know I found out.’”

Dad went pale.

“Found out what?””

I looked at Nicole.

Because suddenly I understood.

She wasn’t afraid of the truth.

She was afraid of what the truth would reveal.

Then the front door opened.

A man’s voice came from the hallway.

“Richard?””

Dad turned.

An unfamiliar man stepped inside holding a briefcase.

He looked at the papers on the table.

Then at Nicole.

“You told me the girl would never remember.””

My father’s face changed.

“Who are you?””