Chapter 8
Daniel did not open the door.
He spoke through the security system.
“What are you doing here?”
Michael looked directly into the camera.
“I need to talk to Emily.”
“She doesn’t want to talk.”
“I’m her husband.”
“And this is my house.”
Linda stepped forward.
“Daniel, we need to discuss Grace.”
Grace heard her name.
She walked toward the door.
I stopped her.
“No.”
Linda continued.
“Ryan contacted us.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“That doesn’t give you permission to come here.”
“He made threats.”
“What kind?”
Michael looked behind him.
“He said if we keep Grace from him, he’ll go public.”
My stomach tightened.
“With what?”
Linda answered.
“The adoption.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“Public?”
We all looked at her.
“What am I, a celebrity?”
Linda heard her through the door.
“This isn’t funny, Grace.”
“I know. I’m laughing at you.”
Despite everything, Daniel almost smiled.
Michael knocked again.
“Emily, please.”
I opened the door.
Daniel looked at me.
I nodded.
“I need answers.”
Michael entered alone.
I blocked Linda.
“You stay outside.”
Her mouth dropped.
“Excuse me?”
“You stole from me.”
“You are still on that?”
“Yes, Linda. Theft remains relevant several hours later.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“Mom, wait in the car.”
She glared at me.
Then walked away.
I shut the door.
Michael looked exhausted.
His shirt was wrinkled.
His eyes were red.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t respond.
“I should have told you about Ryan.”
“Yes.”
“I should have told you about Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“I should never have let Mom take money.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“Everyone standing here has been affected by your decisions.”
Grace folded her arms.
Daniel remained quiet.
Michael looked humiliated.
Good.
“What did Ryan threaten?”
“He said he has documents proving the adoption was illegal.”
Daniel laughed sharply.
“It wasn’t.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Michael reached inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope.
My stomach tightened.
“What is that?”
“The investigator’s report.”
I grabbed it.
Inside were photographs.
Addresses.
Court records.
Copies of Ryan’s business filings.
And a page titled SUBJECT CONTACTS.
My eyes moved down the list.
There were names.
Mine.
Daniel’s.
Linda’s.
Then one that made no sense.
SARAH CARTER.
I stared at it.
“Sarah?”
Daniel stepped forward.
“What?”
I handed him the page.
His face drained.
“Why is my wife’s name here?”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“The investigator found emails.”
“What emails?”
“Between Sarah and Ryan.”
Grace stopped breathing.
“No.”
Daniel stared at him.
“My wife died eight months ago.”
“I know.”
“Why would she be emailing Ryan?”
Michael swallowed.
“They started communicating almost two years before she died.”
Grace sat down.
“That’s impossible.”
Daniel’s hands began trembling.
“Show me.”
Michael pulled out printed pages.
Daniel grabbed them.
I watched his eyes move across the first email.
His expression broke.
Grace stood.
“Dad?”
He couldn’t speak.
I took one page.
Sarah Carter to Ryan Hale.
The message was short.
I am not allowing you near Grace. She has a stable life and does not need your chaos. If you genuinely care about her, stay away.
The next email was Ryan’s response.
You don’t decide that.
Sarah replied.
Actually, legally, I do.
Another email was dated six months later.
Ryan:
I know Emily never told her husband.
Sarah:
That is Emily’s choice.
Ryan:
Maybe not for long.
I looked at Michael.
“You knew about these?”
“Not until today.”
Daniel stared at the dates.
“She never told me.”
Grace started crying.
“Mom lied too?”
Daniel dropped the papers.
“No.”
“She knew.”
“She was protecting you.”
Grace laughed through tears.
“Everyone keeps saying that!”
She backed away.
“Dad knew things. Mom knew things. Emily knew things. Michael knew things.”
She pointed toward the door.
“Linda knows things.”
Her voice broke.
“I’m the only person who knows nothing about my own life.”
“Grace.”
“Don’t.”
She ran upstairs.
Daniel followed.
I sank into a chair.
Michael sat across from me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I said, “You pretended to be shocked.”
His eyes lowered.
“When Linda showed you Grace’s photograph.”
“Yes.”
“You already knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I panicked.”
I laughed painfully.
“There’s that word.”
“I didn’t want Mom knowing I had kept it from you.”
“Why?”
“Because she would ask questions.”
“She was already stealing for you.”
“I know.”
I stared at him.
“Did you ever intend to tell me Daniel called?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“So no.”
He looked at me.
“I was angry.”
“Because I didn’t tell you?”
“Yes.”
“So you punished me by making sure I couldn’t meet my daughter.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I convinced myself if you wanted her in your life, you would have found her.”
I stared at him.
“That wasn’t your decision.”
“I know.”
“Say it.”
“What?”
“Say what you did.”
He swallowed.
“I kept Daniel’s call from you.”
“And?”
“I threatened him.”
“And?”
His eyes filled.
“I helped Mom take your money.”
“And?”
Silence.
I waited.
Finally he whispered, “I made you think you were forgetting.”
Tears burned my eyes.
“That part.”
He covered his face.
“I’m sorry.”
“You watched me tear apart the bedroom looking for cash.”
“I know.”
“You watched me check my bank statements.”
“I know.”
“You suggested I was stressed.”
“I know.”
“You made me question my own memory because admitting you were gambling was harder.”
He started crying.
“I know.”
For years, I thought seeing Michael cry would break me.
It didn’t.
It only made me tired.
“You need help.”
“I’ll get it.”
“For yourself.”
“For us.”
“No.”
His face went still.
“I don’t know if there is an us.”
“Emily.”
“I mean it.”
He reached across the table.
I pulled my hand away.
Then Daniel came downstairs.
His face was gray.
“Grace is gone.”
I stood so quickly the chair fell backward.
“What?”
“Bathroom window.”
My blood turned cold.
Daniel grabbed his keys.
“Her backpack is gone too.”
Michael stood.
“Where would she go?”
I looked at the papers scattered across the table.
At Ryan’s name.
Then at my phone.
Grace had sent me one message three minutes earlier.
I need to hear his side.
My knees weakened.
Daniel read it over my shoulder.
“No.”
Another message appeared.
May you like
Don’t follow me.
I whispered, “She went to Ryan.”
