Chapter 5: The Man Who Never Stopped Looking for Me
The drive to Knoxville felt endless.
I sat in the back of Jace's truck, holding my mother's letter against my chest.
Linda's final words kept repeating in my head.
Ask him why your mother was in that car alone.
What if Tom had lied?
What if my father really had done something terrible?
What if the people cheering for me at graduation had only shown up because they needed something?
Jace glanced at me through the rearview mirror.
"You okay back there?""
"No.""
He nodded.
"Fair enough.""
"Do you think my father hurt my mother?""
Jace was quiet for a moment.
"My dad trusted your father with his life.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
"No. It doesn't.""
I appreciated that he didn't pretend to know everything.
After another fifteen minutes, we turned onto a narrow road surrounded by trees.
At the end stood a small white house.
A wooden porch stretched across the front. An old pickup truck sat beside a shed.
My heart began pounding.
Jace parked.
"Emily?""
I couldn't answer.
A man appeared in the doorway.
He wore a faded blue shirt and jeans. His hair was almost completely gray now.
He looked thinner than in the photograph.
But I knew him.
I had spent three years staring at his picture, wondering why he had left.
"Dad?""
The man stopped.
His hand tightened around the doorframe.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then he whispered something I could barely hear.
"Emily?""
My legs started shaking.
I took one step.
Then another.
He came down the porch stairs so quickly that he nearly stumbled.
"Oh, sweetheart.""
I wanted to run into his arms.
I wanted to slap his chest and demand five years of explanations.
Instead, I stood in front of him and asked the only question that mattered.
"Why didn't you come get me?""
His face crumpled.
"Emily, I tried.""
"No, you didn't!""
"I did, sweetheart. I swear I did.""
"Linda said you were dead!""
He closed his eyes.
"Your aunt told me you didn't want to see me.""
I laughed through my tears.
"She told me you didn't want me!""
My father made a broken sound.
Then he pulled a folded photograph from his shirt pocket.
It was a picture of me at twelve years old, standing outside my middle school.
The image was blurry, taken from a distance.
I stared at it.
"Where did you get that?""
"I used to drive past your school sometimes. I never got close. I was afraid someone would follow me back to you.""
"You watched me?""
He nodded.
"I wanted to know if you were safe.""
I couldn't hold it anymore.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.
He held me tightly, burying his face in my hair.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I'm so sorry.""
I cried against his chest.
For five years, I'd imagined what it would feel like to hug him again.
I hadn't imagined how much it would hurt.
When we finally separated, he touched my cheek.
"You look just like your mother.""
I wiped my eyes.
"Everybody keeps saying that.""
He smiled sadly.
Then he noticed Tom standing behind us.
"Tom.""
They exchanged a long look.
"You brought her," my father said.
"She deserved the truth," Tom replied.
My father stepped aside.
"Come inside.""
The house was modest.
There were two chairs, a small television, and a kitchen table covered with paperwork.
On the wall hung a photograph of my mother.
I stopped walking.
It showed her laughing in a field of yellow flowers.
I touched the frame.
"Dad, why is this here?""
"Because I couldn't bear to put it away.""
He made coffee while Jace and Tom examined the documents on the table.
I sat opposite him.
"Tell me what happened.""
He placed two mugs down.
Then he sat.
"Your mother and I discovered that Richard Hayes was stealing from the children's charity. At first, we thought it was a bookkeeping mistake. Then we found fake invoices, transfers, and signatures.""
"Why didn't you report him?""
"We did.""
My father rubbed his forehead.
"But Richard had friends in places where people should have been protecting us.""
He explained that my mother had collected copies of the financial records. Walter and Tom had helped preserve them.
Then, one evening, she received a phone call.
"She told me Richard knew about the evidence," my father said.
"She wanted to go to the police.""
"What happened?""
"I asked her to wait until morning. I wanted to make sure we had enough proof.""
His voice cracked.
"She never made it home.""
I stared at him.
"Was it really an accident?""
He shook his head.
"Her brakes had been tampered with.""
My stomach twisted.
"How do you know?""
"Because I found the mechanic who had worked on her car. He disappeared before he could testify.""
"Did you see the police report?""
"I saw the original evidence. Someone had altered it.""
I stared at the photograph on the wall.
My mother had been murdered.
For five years, I'd believed she had simply lost control of her car on a rainy road.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
My father reached across the table.
"Because I was terrified they'd come after you next.""
"Then why did you leave me with Linda?""
His expression darkened.
"Because she promised to protect you.""
I looked away.
"She didn't.""
"I know that now.""
He pulled out a folder.
Inside were letters addressed to me.
Some were birthday cards.
Others were photographs with handwritten notes.
One said:
I hope you like your new school, sweetheart. I wish I could walk you inside.
Another read:
I watched the graduation ceremony from a distance in my imagination today. I hope one day I get to see the real thing.
I couldn't stop crying.
"Why didn't any of these reach me?""
My father looked at Tom.
"Because Linda told me you returned them unopened.""
Tom shook his head.
"She kept them.""
My father lowered his eyes.
"I should have found another way.""
I reached across the table and took his hand.
"You're here now.""
He squeezed mine.
Then I noticed a thick folder underneath the letters.
My name appeared on the front.
I opened it.
Inside were documents showing that my father had transferred ownership of a small house and a savings account into my name.
There was enough money to pay for college.
And something else.
A legal document with Linda's signature.
I read it twice.
"Dad?""
He leaned forward.
"What is it?""
I pointed to the signature.
"Why did Aunt Linda sign a document saying she was my legal guardian and that you had voluntarily surrendered all parental rights?""
My father went completely still.
"I never signed anything like that.""
Tom took the paper.
His expression changed.
"John, this isn't just about the money.""
He turned the document toward us.
"Someone forged your signature.""
My father stood.
"That's impossible.""
Tom pointed to the final page.
"Look at the witness.""
There was a name beneath the signature.
Richard Hayes.
And beside it was another name.
A name I recognized from the bank statements.
Linda Parker.
My father stared at the page.
Then he whispered:
"They didn't just keep my money.""
He looked at me.
"They legally tried to erase me from your life.""
Before anyone could speak, a car horn sounded outside.
Once.
Twice.
Then a third time.
Jace rushed to the window.
His face went pale.
"Tom.""
Tom stood.
"What?""
Jace pointed toward the road.
A black SUV had stopped beside the mailbox.
May you like
Two men were getting out.
And one of them was holding a camera.
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