Chapter 9: The Third Child
I ran upstairs.
"LILY!""
My daughter's bedroom door stood open.
Her stuffed rabbit lay on the carpet.
The window was unlocked.
I rushed toward it and looked outside.
Nothing.
Then I heard a small voice behind the wardrobe.
"Daddy?""
I turned.
Lily was hiding inside the narrow space between the wardrobe and the wall.
I dropped to my knees.
"Sweetheart!""
She ran into my arms.
I held her so tightly that she protested.
"Daddy, you're squeezing me.""
I loosened my grip.
"Are you okay? Did someone touch you?""
She shook her head.
"Grandpa came upstairs.""
My blood turned cold.
"What did he do?""
"He asked me to come with him. I said no.""
I kissed her forehead.
"Good girl.""
"He said Mommy would be sad if I didn't.""
I looked toward the hallway.
Vanessa was standing there, crying.
"Lily, sweetheart, I'm sorry.""
Lily moved closer to me.
"Why does Grandpa keep asking me to leave?""
Vanessa covered her mouth.
I didn't know what to say.
So I told her the truth.
"Because Grandpa has done some very bad things, and Daddy is going to make sure he can't hurt you anymore.""
I carried Lily downstairs.
Michael was sitting beside Sophie, who was trying to clean the dirt from his hands.
Margaret was pacing.
"Where's Richard?"" I asked.
"Outside," Michael replied.
"I saw him get into another car.""
I took out my phone.
This time, I called the police and requested officers from outside our local district.
I explained that a man had attempted to remove my child from the house and that we had evidence of kidnapping, unlawful confinement, and identity fraud.
When I finished, Margaret approached me.
"Mark, we need to talk about the third child.""
I looked at her.
"Who is it?""
She took a long breath.
"Your mother believed the third baby had been taken to a family in another state.""
"Why?""
"Because Richard arranged a private adoption. The records were falsified before the birth certificates were issued.""
Michael leaned forward.
"But why did he keep us apart?""
Margaret looked at him.
"Because the third child inherited something neither of you could.""
I frowned.
"The same trust?""
"More than that.""
She pulled out a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a little girl standing beside a tree.
She looked about ten years old.
On the back was a name.
*Claire Bennett.*
I stared at it.
"Who is Claire?""
Margaret's voice dropped.
"Your sister.""
Michael closed his eyes.
"She's alive?""
Margaret nodded.
"She was the first person to discover what Richard had done.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Where is she?""
Margaret hesitated.
"She disappeared six years ago.""
The room went silent.
Vanessa suddenly stood.
"That's impossible.""
Everyone turned toward her.
She looked at the photograph.
"I know that girl.""
My heart began pounding.
"How?""
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
"Because she came to our house.""
I stared at her.
"When?""
"Before Lily was born. She was looking for you.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Your father came that same evening. He told me she was dangerous.""
Michael shook his head.
"Claire was never dangerous.""
Vanessa continued.
"She left something behind.""
She hurried upstairs.
I followed her into our bedroom.
She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and removed an old wooden jewelry box.
Inside was a small silver key and a folded note.
She handed it to me.
The note was written in a hurried hand.
If Mark ever learns the truth, tell him to find the room beneath the old church.
The third child is not the only secret.
Mother is still alive.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Where did you get this?""
"Claire left it here.""
"Why keep it?""
"Because I was afraid.""
I unfolded the paper again.
At the bottom was another sentence.
Richard doesn't know that I found the original recording.
I looked toward the stairs.
"Who wrote this?""
Vanessa whispered.
"Claire.""
Then my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
A young woman's voice came through.
"Mark Bennett?""
"Who is this?""
"My name is Claire.""
I stopped breathing.
"Where are you?""
She ignored the question.
"Listen carefully. Your father is looking for me. He knows I have the recording.""
"What recording?""
"The one proving who really died fifteen years ago.""
I gripped the phone.
"My mother?""
Claire was silent for a moment.
Then she whispered:
"No. Your mother survived. The person who died was the woman you grew up calling Mom.""
I closed my eyes.
The woman who had raised me.
The woman whose funeral I had attended.
The woman whose grave I had visited for fifteen years.
My phone crackled.
Claire spoke again.
"And Mark, there's something else. Michael isn't your only brother.""
I looked toward the living room.
Michael was standing in the doorway.
He had heard her.
His face had gone completely white.
"Claire," I whispered, "what are you saying?""
Her voice broke.
"Your father had another son. And he's the man who has been helping him hide everything.""
A loud crash came from downstairs.
Then Michael shouted.
"MARK! GET DOWN HERE!""
I ran toward the stairs.
The front door was wide open.
Margaret was gone.
And on the dining table was a handwritten note.
*STOP LOOKING FOR YOUR FAMILY, OR YOU'LL LOSE THE ONE YOU HAVE LEFT.*
Beneath it was a photograph of Lily leaving her school that morning.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
*Your father isn't the only one watching her.*
