112

The decision of Jarek Strong to help uncover the truth fell upon the house like a breath of new air, though thick with tension. For days, the atmosphere hung between hope and fear.
Natalia barely slept; she would wake up startled, wondering what they might find if they truly unearthed the past. Nathan, calmer, tried to keep everyone composed, while Jarek spent long hours locked in his study, going through old files and calling former contacts.
The clock was nearing midnight when old Strong shut the last file with a sharp thud. His eyes held both exhaustion and determination. He had achieved what he thought impossible: access to the original case file of Georgie, locked away for years in judicial archives.
One of his old colleagues, Inspector Vega, had agreed to meet him the next day, though clearly uneasy.
"You don’t know what you’re getting into, Jarek," the man had said over the phone, his voice trembling. "That case should stay closed. There are names in there nobody wants to see written again."
"That’s exactly why I’ll do it," Jarek had replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The next morning, Natalia watched from the window as her father left early, coat over his shoulder and a folder under his arm. For the first time in years, she saw him move with a purpose other than anger.
She wondered whether destiny was leading them toward a truth too painful to face—or toward the release they all needed.
Meanwhile, Nathan decided to take Suzanne and the twins to the park. He wanted to clear his mind, but even there, amid the laughter of children, he couldn’t stop thinking about his dead brother. Georgie would have turned twenty that day. The thought shook him deeply.
He looked at Suzanne, playing with one of the little ones, and thought that maybe their family was being given a chance to heal.
"Are you okay?" she asked, noticing his distant stare.
"Yeah… I was just thinking about Georgie," he answered quietly. "I always wondered what it would’ve been like if he were still here."
Suzanne stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm.
"Maybe all of this is meant to bring him peace, Nathan. Maybe finding the truth is how you honor him."
Her words resonated within him, bringing a calm he had never known.
(...)
Elsewhere in the city, Jarek arrived at the old judicial archives. Inspector Vega awaited him in a narrow office, with a pile of documents on the desk. The air smelled of dust and dampness. Vega, older and more wrinkled than before, looked at him with concern.
"Here’s everything I could get without being seen," he said, extending the folder. "But I warn you, Jarek—some pages are missing, signatures don’t match… even reports that were never officially filed."
Jarek frowned.
"What are you implying?"
Vega lowered his voice.
"That someone tampered with the file. And it wasn’t just anyone. There are court seals that only someone high up could have had."
A chill ran through the old man’s body. He opened the folder and began reading the reports—photos of the scene, statements, forensic tests—everything he already knew, but now with details that hadn’t been there before.
 One line caught his eye in particular:
 *"Statement of anonymous witness: the vehicle was not driven by Richard Lerner at the time of impact."*
Jarek looked up, incredulous.
"What does this mean?"
Vega met his gaze with sorrow.
 "It means someone else was there, and they tried to hide it. The witness disappeared two days after giving the statement. We never found him."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Jarek shut the folder tightly and rose slowly.
"Thank you, Vega. This won’t end here."
The inspector stopped him before he could leave.
"Jarek… if you keep going, you’ll be facing powerful people. This isn’t just about justice anymore. It’s about survival."
The old man didn’t respond. He simply walked out of the building, carrying the resolve of someone with nothing left to lose.
(...)
That afternoon, Natalia decided to visit the cemetery. She hadn’t done so in months, unable to face her son’s gravestone. But something inside her urged her to go. The autumn wind carried dry leaves, and the gray sky mirrored her melancholy.
She knelt before the tomb and placed a small bouquet of white lilies.
"Hi, my love," she whispered, her voice breaking. "We’re trying to understand what happened. I don’t know if we’ll succeed, but I promise I won’t rest until I find the truth."
Tears blurred her vision. She closed her eyes, recalling Georgie’s smiling face, the warmth of his hugs, his voice calling her “Mom.”
For the first time in years, she didn’t feel only sorrow, but a strange sense of peace.
When she stood up, she noticed something odd—a shadow a few meters away, watching her. It was a tall man in a dark coat. He stood motionless, as if waiting. Natalia tensed and took a step back. But when she blinked, he was gone. Only the wind stirred the leaves around her.
 A chill ran through her entire body.
(...)
That night, the air in the house was heavy. Jarek came home later than usual. He sat before the fire without saying a word, the folder still in his hands. Natalia watched him from the doorway, knowing he had found something.
"What did you discover?" she asked cautiously.
He took a few seconds before answering.
 "Lies. Too many lies. The file was altered. There’s a missing witness and a driver who wasn’t Richard."
Natalia’s face turned pale.
"So… it wasn’t him?"
Jarek didn’t answer. His eyes reflected doubt and fear.
"I don’t know yet. But there’s something else." He opened the folder and pointed to a yellowed page. "Look at this name… Henry Dalton. He was the prosecutor in charge. He died a month after the trial. Officially a heart attack—but there are too many coincidences."
Nathan, who had been listening from the doorway, spoke up.
"You think they silenced him?"
"I think someone wanted that case closed forever," Jarek replied harshly. "And that Richard was the scapegoat."
Natalia covered her mouth in horror.
"My God… if that’s true…" Her eyes filled with tears. "Dad, that means Georgie died for something much bigger than an accident."
Jarek nodded slowly.
"And it’s time to find out what it was."
For the first time, there were no shouts or reproaches among them. Only silence—an unspoken understanding that they were about to uncover something that could change everything.
(...)
Hours later, when everyone had gone to bed, Jarek remained awake, watching the fire burn down in the fireplace. His mind replayed the image of his grandson, the smile that had vanished too soon.
 "Forgive me, little one," he murmured, voice trembling. "I failed you then. I won’t fail again."
At that moment, a dull noise made him look up. A window had opened on its own, and the wind swept a page from the file to the floor. Jarek walked over to pick it up… and froze when he read the heading.
*"Confidential report. Witness: S. H. Date: March 18."*
 S. H. Those initials were familiar. Too familiar. His heart began to race.
"It can’t be…" he whispered, feeling the blood drain from his face.
If his suspicions were right, that anonymous witness was someone very close to the family.
The fire crackled softly behind him, lighting up his expression of shock and fear. Outside, the wind kept blowing, as if the past refused to stay silent.