Chapter 6 - The Shadows of the Past
The kitchen seemed to tilt on its axis.
“A twin?” I repeated, looking from Julian to Ethan, searching their faces for a resemblance I had somehow missed for nearly a decade. Now that I looked closely, the shape of their jawlines was identical, though the years of hard living had carved deep lines into Julian’s face that Ethan’s smooth skin lacked. “Ethan, you never told me you had a twin brother. You told me your parents died in a car accident when you were a teenager and you were an only child.”
Ethan stared down at the kitchen counter, tracing the wood grain with a trembling finger.
“I had to bury that part of my life, Clara,” Ethan whispered. “If I told you the truth when we met, you never would have looked at me twice.”
“What is he talking about, Ethan?” Detective Miller asked, stepping closer. “Start talking, and make it quick, because right now you’re looking at obstruction, fraud, and a whole list of local ordinances.”
Ethan let out a long, shuddering breath.
“Julian and I grew up in a very different world,” Ethan began, his voice barely above a whisper. “Our father wasn't a businessman. He was a career criminal—head of a loan-sharking and extortion ring in Chicago. When we turned eighteen, Julian chose to follow in his footsteps. He wanted the fast money, the power, the life. I wanted out. I ran away, changed my last name legally, earned my degree, and built a clean life here in Portland with you.”
I felt the ground dropping out from under me. “You lied about your entire identity?”
“Everything else about me is real, Clara!” Ethan pleaded, his eyes welling with tears. “My love for you, my love for Lily—that wasn't a lie. I built an honest man out of the wreckage of a monster’s son. I thought I left that world behind forever.”
“Until two months ago,” Julian interjected quietly, pulling the foil blanket tighter around his shoulders.
“What happened two months ago?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
May you like
Julian looked at Ethan, and a heavy, sorrowful understanding passed between the brothers.
“Two months ago,” Julian said, “our father died in prison. And the men he owed money to—the syndicate bosses—decided that the debt passed down to his sons.”
