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The mansion loomed ahead through the swirling snow like something from a half-remembered nightmare, its lights cutting sharp yellow slits across the driveway as Ethan’s car crunched to a stop just beyond the front steps.

I turned to Ethan, "You know what you have to do, right Ethan?"

Ethan nodded, his blue eyes looking conflicted and worried.

Adrien and I climbed out together, the cold biting instantly through my coat, settling deep in my bones, but neither of us hesitated. Ethan lingered a moment longer behind the wheel, his hands gripping it tightly, eyes darting toward the house with a look I couldn’t quite figure out, something guarded, almost reluctant.

"Be careful, you guys," he said quietly. Still, as we started moving, he didn’t follow, and I didn’t have time to question it. The flash drive burned in my pocket like a live coal, and every step toward the front door felt heavier than the last, the weight of Logan’s confession echoing in my head like a second heartbeat.

We pushed through the doors without knocking, the warmth of the foyer hitting us like a wall after the freezing drive. Voices drifted from the study, Keith’s, raised and furious, barking orders at some poor staff member who sounded like they were on the verge of tears.

"Burn everything!" he bellowed, his words slicing through the hall with a sharpness that twisted my stomach. "Every last scrap, papers, files, the backup drives in the safe. I want it all gone before those boys get back here with their little detective fantasies!"

Adrien’s hand brushed mine for half a second, a silent signal, and then we were moving faster, bursting into the study without knocking or warning. The room was a mess.

Drawers gaped open like broken jaws, papers lay scattered across the Persian rug, and a small fire crackled in the hearth where Keith was feeding documents one handful at a time.

His sleeves were rolled up, his usually immaculate hair disheveled, and his face...God, his face. It wasn’t the polished, charming mask I was used to seeing at dinners and charity events.

This was something else entirely: eyes wild with rage, mouth twisted into a snarl, the kind of expression that fit a man finally backed into a corner, not caring who saw his fangs. For the first time since moving into this house, I was seeing the real Keith Fell.

Not the generous stepfather, not the successful businessman, but the cold-blooded killer Logan had described in that video. The man who had orchestrated a car crash like it was just another Tuesday appointment.

As we entered, he turned toward us, his gaze locking onto the phone in my hand like a predator locking onto prey.

"What the hell were you two doing at that motel?!" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, stepping around the desk with a speed that made me instinctively back up a step. "You think you can dig around playing investigators and waltz in here like you own the place? Explain yourselves now!"

Adrien didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me, his shoulders squared and jaw set so tightly I could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin. The anger radiating off him was barely contained, like a live wire ready to spark.

"Did you kill my mother?" he asked, the words slicing through the air like a blade. His voice was low, almost too steady, but I could hear the tremor beneath it, the years of grief and lies surging into something raw and unstoppable.

"Did you kill her, Dad? Did you get Mr. Carlby to tamper with her brakes and then sit at her funeral pretending to mourn her?!"

Keith’s laugh was sharp and ugly, nothing like the warm chuckle I’d heard at family dinners.

"This is what your stepbrother has been feeding you?" he said, gesturing at me with a dismissive flick of his hand, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Of course I didn’t! How could you even accuse me of such?!"

Adrien looked like he was going to strangle him. And the only thing holding him back was me holding onto his arm. "Noah said he heard you admit to killing Ethan’s uncle. Did you kill him so he wouldn’t expose you?"

Keith looked different in that moment, taller somehow, more imposing, the polished facade stripped away to reveal the man who built an empire over other people’s graves. "You really think you can believe him over your own father?"

Adrien’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Don’t lie to me," he growled, advancing another step, voice rising with barely contained fury that made the air in the room feel electric. "I saw the confession video of Logan. I saw my mother’s journal...I know what you did to her, to Logan. To all of us, just tell me the truth for once in your damn life! Did you kill my mother?!"

Before Keith could respond, a sharp gasp sliced through the tension from the corner of the room. My mother stood there in the doorway, one hand pressed to her chest, her face drained of color as the weight of Adrien’s words finally sunk in.

For a moment...I thought, maybe...she had no clue about what Keith had done. That she was innocent in all of this.

But her eyes, they told me I was wrong to think that.

She’d slipped in unnoticed during the shouting, and now she looked between us as if she were seeing strangers for the first time. Her eyes met mine, wide and shocked, but there was something else there too...something colder, calculating, as if the pieces were clicking into place, and she didn’t like what they formed.

Keith seized the moment, his voice dropping back into that smooth, authoritative tone he used when he wanted to take control of the room.

"Helen, thank God, you’re here. Talk some sense into your son. He’s been running around with these wild accusations, dragging Adrien into his delusions. This is all just—"

But Helen wasn’t listening to him. She crossed the room in quick, purposeful strides and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the desk and toward the hallway and into a room. She slammed the door, her grip tighter than necessary. Her nails dug in just enough to sting, and she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper that only I could hear.

"What is going on here, Noah?! What have you done this time?! You’re tearing this family apart with your little investigations and secrets! Keith has given us everything, security, a home, a future! And you’re throwing it all away just to dig up the past and form a fake tale?!"

I stared at her, contempt rising in my throat like bile I couldn’t swallow. This was the woman who raised me, who doted on me like I was made of glass, who promised me a better life when she married Keith.

And now she was standing here defending him...defending a murderer, because the money and status had finally blinded her to everything else.

"I don’t know, Mom," I replied, my voice low but steady, every word tinged with the anger and hurt that had been building since the video ended. "You tell me. You’re the one who was with a married man while his wife was still alive. You married a murderer for his money and lied about it to my face for years. How long were you planning to keep it hidden, huh? How long were you going to pretend you aren’t just as fucking evil as he is?"

Helen’s eyes widened, a gasp escaping her lips as my words landed. For a split second, something raw and ugly flashed across her face, rage, pure and unfiltered, the kind I’d never seen from her in my life.

She’d always been gentle, the nurturing mother who treated me like something fragile. But in that moment, the mask shattered completely.

The slap came so fast I didn’t have time to brace myself. Her hand connected with my cheek in a sharp crack that echoed through the study, the sting blooming hot and immediate across my skin.

I staggered back a step, shocked into silence, my hand flying up to touch the burning spot where her palm had struck. The pain wasn’t even the worst part...it was the realization that, through every argument and rough patch, Helen had never once raised a hand to me.

She’d always coddled me, made me feel like the center of her world. And now that illusion lay shattered on the floor between us, just like everything else.

"You insufferable ingrate!" she yelled, her voice cracking with a fury I’d never heard from her before.

Her chest heaved, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something that looked almost like betrayal, as if I’d been the one to upend her perfect life instead of the other way around.

"After everything we’ve given you...everything Keith has provided, you turn around and accuse us of this?! You have no idea what it takes to survive in this world, Noah. No idea at all!"

The room fell into a stunned hush, the fire crackling in the hearth the only sound besides the ringing in my ears. The truth had finally come out.

I had finally seen the real Keith Fell.

And in doing so, I had lost the mother I thought I knew.