"And the night he died... he'd found something...related to your brother."
Serena leaned forward, her expression intent as she pressed Sam. "What do you mean he'd found something? What kind of information?"
Sam swallowed hard, his face pale as he tried to organize his thoughts. "He called me that night," he began, his voice shaky. "Just before the accident. You know how he used to leave you with us sometimes when things got... complicated. When he called that evening, I assumed it was to let me know he'd be coming to pick you up. That was the usual routine."
He paused, his brow furrowing as if reliving the moment. "But this time, his tone was different—urgent, almost frantic. I could tell right away that something was wrong. I asked him what was the matter, but he didn't give me much to go on. All he said was that he'd found something—something about his son. His voice was so... I don't know, shaken. Like he was struggling to believe it himself."
