Leo stood beside me, silent as stone.
Ethan continued.
“Vale thinks he buried the truth. He didn’t. Richard tried to save me. Don’t blame him.”
My father broke down then, silently, completely.
Ethan leaned closer to the camera.
“And Anna… there’s something else. Something I didn’t tell anyone.”
The room seemed to tilt.
He looked over his shoulder, as if someone had made a sound behind him.
Then he turned back.
“If they come for you, don’t trust the police. Don’t trust the company doctors. And don’t trust the woman who says she was my mother.”
My blood went cold.
Leo whispered, “What?”
Ethan’s voice dropped.
“Because my real mother died when I was six.”
The video suddenly glitched.
Static filled the screen.
Then one final frame appeared.
A woman stood behind Ethan in the cabin doorway.
Older.
Elegant.
Smiling.
And I knew her.
Everyone in town knew her.
She was Mayor Evelyn Brooks.
The woman who had stood at Ethan’s memorial ten years ago, crying into a handkerchief, calling him her beloved son.
The screen went black.
Then a new message appeared:
ARCHIVE PART THREE REQUIRES BIOMETRIC ACCESS.
Mara frowned.
“What biometric access?”
Before anyone could answer, Leo stepped closer to the laptop.
The screen flickered.
A green scan line passed across his face.
Then the computer chimed.
ACCESS GRANTED.
My son stared at me, terrified.
And from the laptop speakers, Ethan’s voice returned, clearer than ever.
“Hello, Leo.”
The room stopped breathing.
Leo stared at the screen, his small fingers tightening around the edge of the table.
“Dad?” he whispered before he even realized he had said it.
On the screen, Ethan smiled.
Not the smile of a ghost.
Not the smile of a man saying goodbye.
The smile of a father who had spent ten years hoping his son would one day hear his voice.
“If you’re seeing this,” Ethan said, “then you’re old enough to understand why I couldn’t come home.”
I felt my knees weaken.
Every part of me wanted to reach through the screen.
To touch him.
To tell him that Leo loved dinosaurs.
That he hated broccoli.
That he laughed exactly like Ethan did.
Instead, all I could do was cry.
Ethan looked directly into the camera.
“Leo… none of what happened was because of you.”
“You were never abandoned.”
“I loved you before you were even born.”
Leo’s lips trembled.
“You knew?” he whispered.
The recording continued.
“Your mother probably believes I never knew she was pregnant.”
“I didn’t.”
“But before I disappeared… I realized she had been trying to tell me something.”
“I guessed.”
“And I prayed I was right.”
I covered my mouth.
Even after all these years…
He had known.
Not with certainty.
With hope.
“I left everything I could for you.”
“The evidence.”
“The archives.”
“And one more thing.”
Ethan reached beneath the table.
He placed a folded envelope in front of the camera.
Across the front, in faded handwriting, were two words.
FOR LEO.
Mara carefully opened the encrypted folder.
Inside was a scanned copy of the letter.
I began reading aloud because Leo suddenly couldn’t.
“My son…”
“If life was fair, I’d be teaching you how to ride a bicycle instead of leaving you words on a screen.”
“I’m sorry.”
