Chapter 2: The Photograph in the Rain
My bride stared at the silver crest on the car door.
“Wait,” she whispered.
“I know that symbol.”
Her mother hurried into the rain behind her.
“What kind of trick is this?”
The suited man ignored her and handed my father a sealed folder.
“Everything is ready, Mr.
Henderson.
The board only needs your signature.”
My bride tightened her grip on my arm.
“You told me your father was a retired mechanic.”
“He is,” I said.
“And you laughed while your mother humiliated him for it.”
My father finally raised his eyes.
“A man’s work should never make him unworthy of respect.”
Her mother’s face suddenly lost its color.
She pointed at the folder.
“Where did you get that?”
Before my father could answer, the suited man opened it.
A photograph slipped out and landed at my bride’s feet.
She picked it up—and froze.
It showed my father standing beside the late owner of her family’s company.
On the back was a handwritten message with her mother’s name beneath it.
My bride read the first line aloud, then looked at her mother in horror.
“Mom…
you knew who he was?”
What was written in that message—and why was her mother terrified of Mr.
May you like
Henderson?
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