Chapter 4 - THE FATHER WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
Savannah nearly dropped the cleaning cart.
Her father?
Alive?
She had buried him when she was twelve.
At least, that was what she had always believed.
Richard Reed had supposedly died during a private flight over the Rocky Mountains.
No survivors.
No recovered body.
Only a closed-casket memorial and a grieving mother who refused to discuss the accident.
Savannah backed away from Linda’s office.
Her heart pounded so loudly she barely heard the elevator open.
Ethan stepped out.
He saw her face and immediately knew something was wrong.
“Hannah?”
She grabbed his arm.
“Please. I need to get out of here.”
He didn’t ask questions.
He led her through a service corridor and down a private staircase.
Five minutes later, they were sitting inside his sedan.
Savannah stared at the dashboard.
“Have you ever discovered that your entire childhood might have been a lie?”
Ethan looked at her.
“Yes.”
The answer was so immediate that she turned.
He continued quietly.
“When I was younger, someone I loved died. Everybody told me what happened. I believed them for years.”
“And then?”
“I found reasons not to.”
Savannah’s eyes filled.
“I think my father might be alive.”
Ethan remained silent.
She watched his expression.
Most people would have looked shocked.
He looked thoughtful.
As though he was putting pieces together.
“Who told you he died?” Ethan asked.
“My mother.”
“Did she see his body?”
Savannah shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Then start there.”
His calmness steadied her.
That night, Savannah visited Rebecca.
Together, they searched old newspaper archives.
Richard Reed’s plane had disappeared on November 14, seventeen years earlier.
But the official investigation report contained an unusual detail.
The aircraft’s emergency locator transmitter had been manually disabled before takeoff.
Rebecca frowned.
“That’s not normal.”
Savannah kept scrolling.
Then she found a photograph taken three days after the disappearance.
It showed Linda Whitmore entering a private medical facility in New Mexico.
Beside her stood a man wearing a baseball cap.
His face was turned away.
But Savannah recognized the silver bracelet on his wrist.
Her father had worn that bracelet every day.
She enlarged the photograph.
Rebecca leaned closer.
“Oh my God.”
On the man's wrist was the engraved inscription Savannah had given him for Father's Day.
Forever your little girl.
May you like
Her father had been alive three days after the crash.
And Linda Whitmore had been standing beside him.
