Chapter 4: The Weight Of A Mother's Secret
Morning came quietly,my eyes drifted toward the window as the first weak morning light crept in.
It reminded me of something,my mother standing in her studio years ago, pulling back the curtains, letting light spill across her canvases.
"Light tells the truth," she once said, smiling softly
"It always does, even when everything else doesn't."
I remembered standing beside her at twelve years old, trying to look brave even though i barely understood what she meant.
I left the house earlier than usual,i didn't sleep much,my mind kept circling the same things,my mother's face, her old studio, the unfinished painting she left behind.
I tried to focus on work, numbers, meetings, and schedules. Nothing stayed in place.
The company building looked calm from the outside, its tall glass windows catching the early light. To everyone else, it was just another busy day but to me, it felt different.
Everything around me carried a strange weight, like the air was thicker somehow.
I stood up, walked to my desk, and pressed a button on the intercom.
"Rowan," i said, "bring the painting from my car. The one covered in brown paper,handle it carefully."
"Yes sir," Rowan answered.
I paced the room until the door opened again,Rowan stepped in, carrying the wrapped canvas with both hands.
"Set it on the table," I said.
Rowan placed it down gently and stepped back.
"Anything else, sir?"
"No,you may go"
I stood over the painting for a long moment,I hesitated before removing the paper.
I wasn't sure why,maybe I was afraid of what I would feel this time or maybe the weight of it was heavier than I wanted to admit.
I finally unwrapped it,
The soft outlines of the two children appeared again, still unfinished and still carrying the familiar ache inside me.
A soft knock pulled me out of my thoughts,
"Come in," I said
The door opened, and Rowan entered carefully
"Sir… Mr Hale is here,you asked to see him"
"Finally"I stood up at once
Mr. Hale isn't family, but he was close to my mother long before death forced silence between them,
he handled antique art for decades, studied rare methods, and restored paintings when the company first started.
If anyone knew the secrets of my mother's style, it should be him.
"Send him in," I said
Rowan stepped back, and an older man entered the office. His hair has turned white now,his posture slightly bent but his eyes were sharp and observant as always.
"Adrian," they had a warm handshake
"It's been a while"
"Too long"
Mr. Hale smiled faintly"You sound like your mother when you say that"
I didn't respond,I walked to the small meeting table.
"Sit, Please"
Mr. Hale lowered himself into the chair with a tired breath.
"You said you needed to speak about your mother," he said gently "I admit… I didn't expect that"
I placed the painting on the long table,Mr Hale eyes softened immediately.
"Elara's work," he whispered
I nodded "I need you to look at it"
Mr. Hale stared at the canvas for a long time without speaking,he leaned close, then moved back, then leaned close again,his brows pressed together.
"This is different," he said quietly "She didn't paint this like her other works"
I crossed my arms "I know."
Mr. Hale studied the layers,his fingers hovered over the surface but didn't touch "She hid something under here"
I replied "I already thought so"
"No," Hale said "not that kind of secret,something else,something heavy and something personal"
I looked away, of course it was personal,everything about his mother always had two meanings:
one for the world, and one for me.
The world saw a legend,a genius,a woman whose paintings sold for millions.
"But look here" He pointed at a section of the canvas where the color shifted subtly "these strokes are not hers,they belong to another hand."
I frowned "Another artist?"
"Yes,someone she trusted,someone she allowed into her world,that alone is strange"
I felt something cold slide through me"Who?"
Hale shook his head "I can't be sure,but the hand is young,very young,someone with natural talent,someone with instinct"
The weight in my chest grew,I didn't know why, but I felt as if I was getting pulled toward something i couldn't avoid.
"Why would she hide a second painter?" I asked quietly
"Because that child meant something to her," Hale replied "Something she wanted to protect"
The word child echoed louder than it should have.
A hidden child,a secret painter and a message that made no sense.
"Light survives in the one who remembers"
I didn't want to think about it, and I didn't want the thought forming in my head,but the thought formed anyway.
"Did she ever mention someone?" I asked quietly "A student, maybe?"
Hale hesitated too long, too carefully.
And that hesitation told me everything
"You know something," I said,
Hale turned to me and said "Your mother once took in someone,a little girl in her studio apartments,barely seven,she was always with her whenever she paints most of her personal piece,
I only saw the child twice,then after the fire incident,I never saw her anymore.
A cold shock ran through my body,I felt like i had stepped into air instead of ground.
"Where can I find her?" I asked
"I have no idea, she was among the victim of the fire incident but rumor has it that she's alive but I cannot tell."
"She didn't hide her art because of fear" he said gently "she hid it because it held a truth she wasn't ready for the world to see,
some truths are personal, some are painful and some are gifts that must wait for the right moment"
His gaze lifted and met mine.
"And she believed your moment would come one day"
Silence filled the room,thick,heavy.
I looked at the painting again,the soft strokes,the hidden ones,the unfinished part,the strange light beneath the layers and the feeling of two timelines blending on one canvas.
My mother,a child,a fire that stole something from them both,a secret buried too deep.
Hale placed a hand on my shoulder "Your mother didn't hide things to punish you, Adrian, she hid them to protect someone."
"Protect who?"
"No idea,but whoever they are… they mattered to her, I'm sorry, I can't say explain what the painting says"
I felt worried,I hated riddles and hated how emotions worked without permission.
But I couldn't escape this one,even if I tried.
After Hale left, I remained seated, so many thoughts ran through my mind.
A memory,a hidden message
Everything was connected,I just didn't know how yet.
I leaned back on the chair and closed my eyes,
For the first time in many years, I didn't feel alone with my mother's silence
I felt closer to her,as if she were quietly leading me somewhere,
Somewhere important,
Somewhere I wasn't ready for,
But somewhere I needed to go.
And deep down, I felt it again,that pull inside me ,the one that started the moment I touched the painting.
I didn't know her name neither her face.
But knew one thing with certainty:
The girl at the center of my mother's secret was still out there.
And my life would not stay the same once I find her.