By the time Evelyn and Derek brought Claire's parents home from the hospital, evening had fallen. Derek pushed open the door with his shoulder, balancing Claire's suitcase in one hand and bracing himself against the doorframe with the other. Evelyn followed closely behind, her arm linked with her mother's. Eric shuffled in last, duffel bag in hand.

Claire let out a soft sigh of relief as she stepped inside, her fingers lightly brushing the back of the couch. "It's good to be out of the hospital, finally," she murmured, her voice warm but tinged with exhaustion. Maya appeared from the kitchen, her smile wide and welcoming.

"Welcome!" she greeted, stepping forward to help. Her eyes flickered to the suitcase in Derek's hand. "Let me take that upstairs for you."

Derek shook his head with a small smile. "Thanks, but I've got it."

Reluctantly, she stepped back, allowing Derek to carry the bag upstairs. As he left, she disappeared into the kitchen, promising refreshments.

"Is it just me, or does Maya seem restless?" Claire asked as she eased herself onto the couch, leaning back against the cushions. Her face was still pale, but a spark of liveliness shone in her eyes—a marked improvement from days past.

Evelyn smiled. "Habit, I guess. She doesn't know how to stay still."

"The house feels so quiet without Samantha," Eric remarked, glancing around as if expecting the little girl to run into the room. His tone was light, but a hint of wistfulness underlay his words.

"She'll be back tomorrow," Evelyn reassured him, sitting beside her mother and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "She's been asking about Mom nonstop."

"I can't wait to see her. And I hope you'll bring her over to spend weekends with us when we return home," Claire said hopefully.

"Sure, I will," Evelyn promised, and Claire smiled—the kind of soft, maternal smile that warmed Evelyn's heart.

Maya returned moments later with a tray bearing glasses of fresh watermelon juice and a plate of cookies. She set it carefully on the coffee table before sitting across from them. "How are you feeling now?" Maya asked, her voice kind and genuine.

"Apart from the occasional headache, much better," Claire replied, picking up a glass of watermelon juice and taking a small sip. "Thank you for helping Evelyn take care of things around the house."

Maya's cheeks flushed, and she looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's nothing, really. I'm happy to help."

Eric, who had been quietly observing, reached for his own glass.

"We're grateful, Maya," Eric said.

"If everyone had a nanny like you, life would be easier for working mothers," Claire said with an easy smile.

The comment hung in the air, seemingly harmless, but Evelyn felt her pulse quicken. She glanced at Derek, who had just returned to the room and was taking his seat opposite her. He met her gaze, and with a slight nod, she urged him on. Derek leaned forward. "Actually," Derek began, his voice serious, "there's something we need to talk to you about."

Claire and Eric exchanged a curious look, their attention shifting to Derek. Claire set down her glass, her brows knitting together in concern. "What is it, Derek?"

Derek looked toward Maya, who offered him a small smile. He took a deep breath. "We recently discovered that Maya is my sister. My biological sister."

For a moment, the room was silent. Claire's eyes widened in shock as she turned to look at Maya. Eric blinked, his face a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "Your sister?" Claire repeated, leaning forward slightly. "How is that possible?"

"I never knew you had a sister," Eric added, looking from Derek to Maya and then to Evelyn for confirmation.

Evelyn and Derek explained everything: how Michael had first told Derek about his sister; how Derek had begun remembering fragments of his childhood; the nightmare that had revealed buried memories of the accident; and the findings that had led them to Maya. They explained the necklace and how all the pieces fit together.

Claire listened intently, her frown deepening with each detail. When they finished, she turned to Maya, her gaze searching.

"Where were you raised?"

"Cavenspot," Maya replied softly, her hands folded in her lap.

"That's where I grew up," Claire murmured, almost to herself. "That can't be a coincidence."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked cautiously.

Claire shook her head, as if trying to dispel a nagging thought. "It's just it all sounds familiar, but it doesn't make sense. It's probably nothing."

"Or maybe it's something. What do you know?" Derek asked curiously.

"Can I see the picture you talked about?" Claire asked instead. Maya nodded, removed the necklace, and passed it to her.

The moment Claire saw the pictures in the locket, she froze. Her breath hitched, and her hand trembled as she traced the edges of the locket. Her eyes widened, the color draining from her face. "How can this be?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She held the locket tighter, staring at the tiny photographs as if they were ghosts from her past. "I know these people."

The room fell into a stunned silence. Derek leaned forward, his voice urgent. "You knew them? How? Who were they to you?"

Claire's gaze flickered to Derek and then to Maya. She opened and closed her mouth as though the words were too heavy to say. Finally, she took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she began to speak.

"It was twenty-eight years ago," she said. "Back then, I was married to someone someone terrible. A man named Victor Harding." Her lips twisted at the name, and her shoulders sagged under an invisible weight.

Derek frowned. "Is that Sandra's father? The one you mentioned last time who was arrested for murder and is in jail?"

Claire nodded. "Victor was a dangerous man. Ruthless. He didn't care who he hurt to get what he wanted."

Evelyn gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "I've never heard about him."

"There's a reason I never mentioned him," Claire admitted, her voice low. "I ran from that life. From him. But before I did, I I witnessed something horrible."

Eric, who had been sitting silently, reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "Take your time," he said softly, understanding that this wasn't easy for her.

Claire paused, her fingers still clutching the locket. The weight of her words seemed to drag the room into a deeper silence.

"The people in this picture—your parents they were kind, decent people. I didn't know them well, but I knew enough to see they were good. Your mother's name was Elena. She ran the major arts and bookstore in the town next to Cavenspot. Your father was a journalist named Carter Reed. Victor wanted to shut them up. Your father had found evidence. Something incriminating about Victor and his dealings. He was trying to do the right thing, trying to bring him down."

"What was the evidence about?" Evelyn asked. Her mother sighed, her voice breaking before she answered.

"Victor used to work as a construction contractor at Stone Corp"

"Stone Corp?" Derek asked with a deep frown, his heart racing at this revelation.

Claire nodded. "I was hoping I'd never have to bring this up before your parents," she said, looking down.

"What did his working as a contractor at Stone Corp have to do with our father?" Maya asked, unable to understand the connection.

"There was an accident at one of the construction sites. One of the buildings under construction collapsed, and several workers were injured, and some died. There were rumors that the Stone boy was at the site and got hurt, but it was never confirmed," she said. Derek rose from his seat, unable to sit still any longer.

Evelyn glanced at him, shocked and unsure what to say or do.

Before Claire could continue, Derek's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw the investigator's name. "Excuse me," he said quickly, stepping aside to take the call.

The investigator's voice was brisk and direct. "I looked into the major accident on the outskirts of Cavenspot from the night you described."

Derek's grip tightened on the phone. "And?"

"The description you gave fits the case of a couple identified as Elena and Carter Reed. They were found deceased at the scene. The authorities believed there were children in the car, but they weren't there when they arrived. They suspected the perpetrator had taken the children. There were traces of blood in the back seat, but no sign of their bodies. When the perpetrator was apprehended, he denied taking or harming the children. The case went cold after that."

A cold shiver ran down Derek's spine. "Do you have anything else?"

"I sent you the full report, including witness statements and photographs. I think you'll want to see them."

Derek nodded. "Thank you. I'll take a look."

He hung up, his mind swirling with the details he'd just heard. The pieces were starting to fit together, but the picture they formed was far more horrifying than he'd imagined. Re-entering the living room, he saw the others still seated, their expressions a mix of curiosity and tension.

"Derek?" Evelyn asked softly, concern etched on her face.

He swallowed hard, glancing at Maya, who looked back at him with quiet apprehension. "That was the investigator. He confirmed the names of the people in the accident were Elena and Carter Reed," he said before looking at Claire. "You were telling us about what happened with the construction site," he reminded her as he sat down.

She sighed deeply. "Your father, being a journalist, decided to investigate further, as collapsed buildings were becoming common in the region. He traced them all to Victor and gathered evidence that Victor was using substandard materials—materials he himself supplied under a fake name. He produced inferior materials and sold them to the companies that gave him contracts. Victor found out your father knew, and he sent men to threaten your father into silence. But your father refused. He was brave, but he underestimated Victor. Slowly, your father began exposing Victor's wrongdoings, causing most companies to terminate their contracts with Victor. Some even sued him," Claire looked away, tears glistening in her eyes.

Derek's hands clenched into fists. "What happened?"

"Victor became furious. He blamed your father for everything. He decided to punish him," Claire said, her voice cracking as she shut her eyes.

Maya's voice trembled as she spoke for the first time since Claire began her story. "You you knew all he was doing? And you didn't say or do anything?"

Claire's head snapped up, guilt etched deep in her features. "I didn't know. I had no idea he did all those illegal things until your father exposed him. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. I was pregnant and trapped. Victor controlled everything—my life, my money, even my freedom. He almost killed me when I questioned him. I was terrified, so I stayed silent."

Derek stood abruptly, pacing the room. "You're telling me our parents were murdered by your ex-husband? And you just—what—let it go because you were terrified?"

Claire flinched, but she didn't shy away from his anger. "No," she said firmly. "I didn't let it go. It took time, but I gathered enough courage to leave Victor. It took me a while to gather the needed evidence against him, and after I submitted it to the authorities, I fled with Sandra, changed my name, and never looked back. I didn't know you and Maya survived."

Derek paused, a memory surfacing. "I don't remember much, but I remember being scared. I remember someone coming to our house late at night. And the fire." His voice cracked on the last word.

Claire nodded, her face pale. "Yes. He sent his thugs to your parents' house that night. I overheard him on the phone giving the orders. They were supposed to eliminate your father and destroy every piece of evidence he'd gathered. They set the bookstore and your house on fire. Your parents were trying to escape when they were killed. I was horrified but too afraid to come forward, even when Victor continued his life as if nothing had happened. I stayed silent, and I've hated myself for it every day. I've always carried the guilt."

Maya wiped a tear from her cheek, her voice trembling. "Do you know if he's still alive?"

Claire shook her head. "I don't know. Last I heard, he was still in prison. He could be dead by now."

The room fell into silence once more. None of them spoke, but the unspoken question hung heavy in the air: What now?