The morning after was unusually cold for spring. Clouds hung low, threatening rain, and the streets outside Lara's apartment shimmered with a silver-gray quiet.
She stared at her coffee cup, half-empty, her fingers curled tightly around the ceramic. Her mind was still circling the photograph like a trapped moth — replaying every word Hartley had said. The look on his face. The name that had never come up before.
Her father.
The man who supposedly died in a plane crash with her mother — a story repeated so often by the authorities, so quietly accepted by neighbors, that Lara had stopped questioning it years ago. It had seemed so final. So cold.
Until now.
She opened her phone and stared at an old picture she'd saved years ago — the last family photo ever taken. Her father's features were clearer now in her memory because of that picture in Hartley's office. The exact same smile. The same crooked chin. That photo wasn't a mistake.
And if Hartley and Kaven's father had been close with her dad... why had no one ever said so?
She didn't want to jump to conclusions. But she couldn't ignore her instincts either.
---
At the restaurant, Lara tried to act normal — serving tables, checking receipts, helping with lunch prep. But her mind wandered every few minutes, and it wasn't long before someone noticed.
"You alright?" Kaven asked, handing her a bottle of soda behind the bar.
She looked up, startled. "Yeah. Just tired."
He didn't buy it. "You're not blinking."
Lara gave a tight smile. "I didn't sleep well."
Kaven leaned on the counter and lowered his voice slightly. "Talk to me."
She hesitated. Then said, "How well does your dad know Mr. Hartley?"
Kaven blinked. "Uh... pretty well, I guess. They were friends. I think they worked together at some point. Why?"
"No reason." She forced a smile. "Just curious."
Kaven's gaze narrowed. "Lara."
"I said it's nothing."
He didn't press further, but his posture changed — just slightly. She noticed.
---
That evening, Lara found herself near the back office again. Hartley wasn't in. The hallway was quiet.
Her heart was pounding.
Just a quick look.
She pushed the door open, stepped inside, and scanned the room. The shelf. The folders. The photo wasn't visible anywhere — but she knew it had come from this shelf. She moved closer, fingertips brushing against the edges of file binders and loose papers.
Her hands trembled as she searched.
Then she saw it — half-tucked inside a manila envelope, the corner of that same photo peeking out. She pulled it out gently. Her father. Hartley. Kaven's father.
They weren't just casual aquaintances. The way they stood — arms around shoulders — they were close. friends. Maybe even partners.
Then she returned the photo carefully, just as she found it.
As she was about to turn away —
The office door creaked open.
Lara froze.
Kaven stood there.
His eyes widened when he saw her. "What are you doing here?"
"I—" she stepped back from the shelf, heart racing. "I just... dropped something earlier. Came back to look."
Kaven didn't move.
His gaze shifted briefly to the shelf behind her, then back to her face.
"You shouldn't be in here."
"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
He studied her a moment longer, jaw tight.
"Let's go," he said softly, stepping aside to let her pass.
---
Outside, the cold night air hit like a wave. They walked in silence down the side street, the distant sound of traffic humming like static between them.
Kaven finally spoke. "You found something, didn't you?"
Lara didn't answer.
He sighed. "Lara... if this is about that photo—"
"You knew?" she turned sharply. "You knew about it?"
"I saw it once. Years ago," he admitted. "I didn't think it meant anything."
"It means everything," she said, voice trembling. "My parents were friends with Hartley and your dad. That photo proves it. But no one ever told me."
"Maybe they didn't want to," Kaven said, almost too quickly.
"Why not?"
He looked away. "Sometimes people don't say things because the truth... is worse."
Lara stopped walking.
"Kaven," she said carefully, "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Silence.
For a second, he looked like he might say something. But then he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"No. Nothing."
---
That night, Lara sat on her bedroom floor, the folded paper in her hand.
The message — "It wasn't an accident."
The photo.
Kaven's reaction.
It all added up to something she couldn't yet name — but she knew, deep down, this was only the beginning.
Something terrible had happened.
And someone had buried the truth.
---
End of Chapter 2