Ethan didn't know what to say.
His grandfather, Henry Walker, died thirty years earlier, long before Ethan was born. Rose rarely discussed the circumstances surrounding his death. She spoke instead about his generosity, his talent for repairing machinery, and his habit of giving away money the family desperately needed.
Ethan had always assumed the diner was simply another local business where his grandfather once worked.
Margaret was telling him something entirely different.
"Your grandfather helped me build this place," she explained quietly. "When I opened Willow Creek Café in 1986, I owned the property, but Henry was the one who made it feel like home."
She pointed toward the rear wall.
"Your grandmother cooked here. Henry maintained the ovens, repaired the roof, and built the original counter himself."
Ethan glanced around.
The diner had changed over the decades, but several old features remained. The oak paneling near the entrance, the narrow windows, and the brick wall behind the kitchen looked older than everything surrounding them.
Margaret continued.
"My husband became ill in 1991. I spent nearly every day at the hospital, so I hired someone to manage the finances."
"Who?"
"Richard Voss."
Ethan's stomach tightened.
"Patricia's father?"
Margaret nodded.
Richard had been a respected accountant and a familiar figure in Willow Creek. He offered to help Margaret restructure the café's debts, manage payroll, and negotiate with suppliers.
For a while, everything seemed normal.
Then bills began arriving for loans Margaret didn't remember authorizing. Her bank accounts were suddenly depleted. Suppliers claimed they hadn't received payments even though she had approved the invoices.
Richard blamed poor recordkeeping.
Eventually, he informed her that the café was insolvent and that she needed to surrender control.
"I believed him because I was grieving," Margaret admitted. "But Henry never believed the numbers."
Her eyes moved toward the photograph.
"He found irregularities in the company books. He thought Richard had forged documents and transferred money without permission."
Ethan leaned forward.
"Did he report it?"
"He was gathering evidence."
"What happened?"
Margaret looked away.
"His truck crashed on the highway during a storm."
Ethan felt his throat tighten.
Rose had always told him the crash was an accident.
Margaret seemed to understand what he was thinking.
"I have no proof anyone caused Henry's death. I won't accuse someone without evidence. But after he died, the records disappeared, and Richard told everyone Henry had helped steal the money."
Ethan stared toward Patricia's office.
"Grandma never told me."
"Richard convinced her I was responsible."
Margaret carefully folded the photograph.
"For thirty years, she believed I betrayed her husband."
Ethan took out his phone.
"Then there's somebody we need to see."
Margaret looked frightened.
"Who?"
"My grandmother."