Chapter 10 - The man who looked like William
Facial analysis did not immediately prove the man was William Prescott.
Older.
Thinner.
Scar near the jaw.
But similarities were strong.
Margaret insisted:
“That’s him.”
Brandon said:
“It isn’t.”
Too fast.
Ethan stared at the photograph.
I watched him.
He knew something.
“Ethan.”
He looked at me.
“When did you last see your father?”
“My father is dead.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Silence.
Emily sat straighter.
“Ethan?”
His face collapsed.
“Three years ago.”
Margaret stood so suddenly her chair nearly fell.
“What?”
Ethan covered his face.
William Prescott had contacted him privately.
No explanation.
No reunion.
He asked Ethan questions about Brandon.
About Crescent.
About old family accounts.
Then he disappeared again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Margaret asked.
“He said you knew.”
She looked betrayed.
Interesting.
The woman who had helped imprison my daughter could still be betrayed.
Human beings refuse simple categories.
Then Ethan admitted William contacted him again six months ago.
This time, he warned him.
“Stay away from Crescent.”
But Brandon promised Ethan money.
Control.
A larger role in the family.
And told him William was mentally unstable.
Ethan chose Brandon.
Then William sent one final message.
If you touch Emily’s trust, you become part of what I spent fifteen years trying to undo.
Emily’s trust.
William knew exactly what Brandon planned.
So why not stop him directly?
Maybe he was hiding.
Maybe dead after all and messages were staged.
Maybe someone impersonated him.
Reed refused assumptions.
Then the photograph source was traced.
Taken outside a private medical facility in Richmond.
Patient registration under the name:
Walter Price.
Age matched William.
No current patient.
Records showed he had been treated for complications related to an old gunshot injury.
When had William supposedly died?
Heart attack.
Closed casket.
Private burial.
Margaret arranged everything.
Everyone looked at her.
She whispered:
“I buried my husband.”
Reed asked:
“Did you see the body?”
Silence.
May you like
Margaret began shaking.
“No.”
