A Painful Truth

WHITAKER MANSION

The grand Whitaker Mansion stood eerily silent under the dim glow of the moon. The towering iron gates and thick hedges made it look like a fortress, one that had kept secrets buried for years.

Damien's black car pulled up to the entrance, its headlights casting long shadows across the cobblestone driveway. He killed the engine, sitting still for a moment as he rubbed his temples.

It had been three months.

Three months since his father, Richard Whitaker, had left without a word. He had traveled for business, or so Damien was told. But something about his sudden departure had never sat right with him.

Now that Richard was finally back, Damien needed answers.

Stepping out of the car, he made his way into the house. The butler, an elderly man named Harris, bowed slightly as Damien entered.

"Good evening, sir."