Chapter 3 - THE CASSETTE TAPES
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lila gasped, scooping Emma into her arms. "Please, Mr. Callahan. I need this job. I don't know any Kenji. My husband's name was David."
"You're lying," Richard said, though his voice lacked anger. It was filled with a desperate, agonizing hunger. "I know every detail of Kenji’s life. Or at least, I thought I did. He didn't have family. He didn't have a wife."
"And he still doesn't," Lila said fiercely, backing away toward the servant's entrance. "Because David is dead, too. He died before Emma was born. Now please, let us go."
Richard stood up, raking a hand through his hair. His mind was racing, connecting dots that had been scattered for over a decade. He couldn't let her leave. If she walked out that door, he might lose the only link to the man he had wronged—the man whose genius had built the foundation of Callahan Global.
"Don't run, Lila," Richard said softly. "I'm not going to fire you. But I am not going to let this go. Tomorrow morning, bring the tapes to my office. The ones you claim your husband used."
Lila hesitated, her eyes darting to the door. "If I bring them, will you leave us alone?"
"I will give you the truth," Richard promised. "Which is more than anyone ever gave Kenji."
The next morning, the mansion was quiet. The catering crews had cleaned away the remnants of the gala, and the grand halls felt empty again. Lila walked into Richard’s expansive, glass-walled office holding a dusty cardboard shoebox.
She placed it on his mahogany desk. Inside lay a dozen old micro-cassettes and a battered Sony Walkman.
"David left these for Emma," Lila said, her voice tight. "He recorded them when he got sick. He wanted her to hear his voice, to learn his language. He told me he changed his name when he moved to America because he wanted to leave his old life behind. His real name wasn't David."
Richard’s hands shook as he picked up one of the tapes. He slotted it into the player and pressed play.
Static hissed through the small speaker, followed by a cough. And then, a voice spoke in Japanese. It was raspy, weak, but undeniably familiar.
May you like
"Emma... my little bird. If you are hearing this, Papa is gone. But I leave you the language of our ancestors. And I leave you the truth. The empire that Richard Callahan built... it was not his alone. And the betrayal that tore us apart was a lie."
Richard collapsed into his leather chair, a tear slipping down his cheek. Kenji. It was Kenji. And he had a daughter.
