Chapter 199
The next morning, sunlight softly filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom. Derek sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed. His hands trembled slightly as he raked through his messy hair; the nightmare lingered like a heavy fog.
Since waking from the nightmare, he'd been unable to return to sleep or get out of bed. Going to the office was the last thing on his mind, so he'd texted his secretary to cancel all his appointments, citing illness. Evelyn had held him until morning, then left to prepare Samantha for school, knowing Derek wasn't in the right frame of mind. Now, she watched him from the doorway, her heart aching at his slumped shoulders and distant stare.
She walked over, sat beside him, and gently placed a hand on his back. "Did you manage to sleep at all?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.
Derek shook his head. "Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, it was like I was back there… in the car… hearing the gunshots." He exhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It felt so real, Eve. And the worst part is, I don't think this is the first time. I think I've had this nightmare before… many times, actually. Probably when I was a kid." Her brow furrowed. "You think so?" His gaze remained fixed on the floor.
He nodded. "I can't explain it, but it's familiar. Like it's always been there, buried deep inside." He paused, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. "I need to be sure it's more than just a nightmare." Evelyn hesitated, then asked, "What are you thinking of doing?" Derek rubbed his palms together, his mind racing. "First, I need to call my parents," he said, his voice tinged with apprehension and determination. "I need to ask them if I ever had nightmares like this before."
Evelyn nodded, squeezing his hand. "Okay. Let's call them."
Derek picked up his phone, dialed his mother's number, and put the phone to his ear. Evelyn busied herself organizing the bedroom, staying close enough to listen.
The call connected, and his mother's warm voice filled the room. "Derek! Good morning, sweetheart," she greeted cheerfully.
"Good morning, Mom," Derek said, his voice quieter than usual. "I… I need to ask you something. It's important."
His mother's tone shifted, concern replacing cheer. "Of course, honey. Are you okay? Is something wrong? What is it?" Derek hesitated, his fingers tightening around the phone. "Did I ever have nightmares as a kid? About… about something terrible happening?"
There was a pause. "Nightmares?" his mother repeated slowly. "All kids have nightmares sometimes."
"No. Not the usual kind. More serious nightmares," he clarified. She sighed, as if hoping he wouldn't ask. "Yes, you did. When you first came to us, you had them for weeks. It took a long time before they finally stopped."
"You were so young," his mother said gently. "You couldn't explain much. But you'd wake up crying, sometimes screaming, clinging to us, saying you didn't want to lose us." Her voice softened. "It broke our hearts, Derek. You were so scared." He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "They came back, Mom. Last night, I had one. And… I think I understand now what happened to my biological parents."
A sharp intake of breath crackled through the line. "Oh, Derek," his mother murmured. "What do you mean?"
"I think they were murdered," he said, his voice trembling. "It wasn't an accident. I remember… the crash, the man… he shot them, Mom. He killed them." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steady his voice. "I want to look into it. I need to know the truth." There was a long pause. When his mother finally spoke, her voice was cautious. "Derek, are you sure about this? Digging into the past… it could bring up a lot of pain. I don't want you to get hurt," she pleaded.
"I can't stop now," he said firmly. "I've already started looking for my sister, but I can't stop there. I need to know what really happened to my parents. I need to know if they were killed and why."
His mother's voice trembled. "I knew you were going to be this way. This is why I didn't say anything all this time."
"You knew? You knew my parents were murdered?" He asked, hoping he'd misheard.
Evelyn, who was listening from the other side of the room, paused to look at Derek. "Yes, I did. But that's not important now…"
"It is," he said, his tone weary. A part of him had hoped the murder part of the dream was just that—a dream. He hadn't wanted to believe someone was cruel enough to shoot his parents, who had already died in the truck accident. "How much more do you know?" Derek asked, hurt that she'd kept this from him. Seeing the conversation might be longer than she'd thought, Evelyn left the room to get him something to drink.
"I only know it was murder. When you were younger, whenever you saw a gun on television, you'd hide. Even toy guns terrified you. Coupled with the nightmares, which I initially thought were night terrors, I took you to a child psychologist. She confirmed you had PTSD. I was very worried and scared for you. I had no idea what happened to your family, and to protect you, we decided to fully adopt Derek's identity. That way, no one could find you," she said softly. "But you gave me his identity from the moment I got home from the orphanage," Derek said, frowning.
"No. That's how you remember it, but that's not what happened, darling. Yes, I chose you because you reminded me of him, and I was drawn to you naturally. But you were never meant to be a replacement for him. We wanted you to have his things because it would be a waste to throw them out, but we didn't adopt you to be him. No one can replace a dead child. Being a parent yourself, I'm sure you understand better. We gave you Derek's identity to protect you," his mother said, and Derek sighed deeply, feeling utterly lost. "Do you really think it was easy for us to watch you grow and call you by his name? It was painful, Derek. I'd have to be insane to be able to look at you and call you by his name without remembering my loss. It would have been easier to call you by a different name," she said. For a moment, Derek considered this.
He'd been wrong about everything. He no longer knew who he was. "Promise me you'll be careful, please, Derek," she pleaded when he remained silent.
"I will," he assured her. "I just… I have to do this, Mom."
They exchanged a few more words before ending the call. Derek set down his phone, buried his face in his hands, and exhaled deeply. Evelyn returned, handing him a steaming mug and sitting close.
"That seemed intense," she said gently. He told her everything his mother had said.
"How do you feel now?" Evelyn asked softly.
"Lost," he admitted, clutching the mug. "But I can't ignore this. I need answers."
Evelyn took his hand. "Maybe when we find your sister, we'll have the clue to piece this together." Derek nodded slowly, meeting her eyes. "You're right. She's the key. If I can find her… maybe everything will start to make sense."
"Aren't you going to work?" Derek asked, glancing at the clock and realizing she was running late.
"And leave you all by yourself in this state? I don't think so. If you're home, then I will stay home too," she said, and he smiled softly. "I am my own boss," he pointed out.
"And I am my boss's daughter. And even if I wasn't, my man is a boss and can take care of me if I lose my job," she said, and Derek chuckled.
"That's correct," he said with a sigh.
Before either could speak, Evelyn's phone buzzed. She answered, realizing it was the person helping her track Derek's sister.
"What did you just say?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion as she put the call on speaker for Derek to hear.
"The girl you're looking for is also trying to find her brother. She's in Husla," the caller said. Tears of joy streamed down Evelyn's face as she saw the tears welling up in Derek's eyes.
The words settled something within him, a flicker of hope pushing back the weight of his grief. For the first time that morning, he allowed himself to believe answers might be within reach. "I want to see her. I will fly down at once," Derek said, and Evelyn nodded.