Chapter 4
Mom stared at the message for almost a full minute.
Then she sat down.
“I don’t understand.”
Grandpa paced behind her.
“I do.”
Mom looked up.
“No, Dad.”
“He planned this.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He moved money before the fight. He forged your signature. He has another woman.”
“We don’t know who she is.”
Grandpa pointed at the picture.
“His hand is on her waist.”
“Maybe she’s—”
“Sarah.”
Mom stopped.
Grandpa’s voice softened.
“Stop defending him.”
That broke something in her.
Mom bent forward and cried.
I stood near the doorway.
Rebecca noticed me.
She walked over and crouched.
“Emily, do you want to watch television in the other room?”
“No.”
“Sweetheart—”
“I want to know.”
Mom wiped her face.
Rebecca glanced at her.
Mom nodded.
So I stayed.
Rebecca traced the unknown message.
“We need to identify the sender.”
Grandpa said, “Can police do it?”
“Possibly. But first I want everything preserved.”
Mom looked at the photograph again.
“I’ve seen that woman.”
Grandpa stopped pacing.
“Where?”
Mom zoomed in.
The woman had long dark hair and a red coat.
Mom stared.
“Daniel’s office Christmas party.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Who is she?”
“I think her name is Melissa.”
Rebecca typed the name.
“What’s Daniel’s company?”
“Carter Development Group.”
Grandpa laughed without humor.
“His mother’s company.”
Rebecca searched public records.
Two minutes later, she found a Melissa Grant.
Vice president of acquisitions.
Mom went pale.
“She works with him.”
Rebecca kept searching.
Then she found photographs from corporate events.
There they were.
Daniel.
Melissa.
Linda.
In one photograph, Melissa was standing beside Linda with her arm around her.
They looked close.
Too close.
Mom whispered, “Linda knows her.”
Grandpa grabbed his keys.
“I’m going to talk to that woman.”
Rebecca blocked him.
“No.”
“She helped my son-in-law steal from my daughter.”
“We don’t know that.”
“We know enough.”
“You hit Daniel yesterday.”
“He was beating Sarah.”
“A judge may understand that. A second confrontation makes you look reckless.”
Grandpa glared at her.
Rebecca didn’t move.
Finally, he put his keys down.
Mom whispered, “I want to go home.”
Grandpa turned.
“No.”
“I need documents.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“My laptop. Tax files. Emily’s records. Daniel kept everything in the office.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Police can escort you.”
That afternoon, two officers met us at the house.
I wasn’t supposed to go.
I begged until Mom agreed.
I wanted my clothes.
I wanted my books.
Mostly, I wanted to see if the house still felt like home.
It didn’t.
The moment we walked inside, everything felt wrong.
Dad’s shoes were gone.
His suitcase was gone.
Several framed family photographs were missing.
Mom walked through the living room slowly.
Then she stopped.
The drawer beneath the television was open.
Empty.
“The papers,” she said.
Rebecca looked inside.
“The DNA report?”
“Gone.”
One officer took notes.
Grandpa cursed under his breath.
Mom hurried toward Dad’s office.
The door was locked.
“That’s new.”
The officer asked, “Do you have a key?”
“No.”
Grandpa said, “It’s her house.”
The officer examined the lock.
“Do you authorize us to force entry?”
Mom nodded.
Grandpa kicked the door before the officer could.
The lock broke.
Rebecca stared at him.
“Robert.”
“What? It worked.”
Inside, the office had been stripped.
Computer gone.
File cabinets empty.
Desk drawers open.
Mom walked toward the wall safe.
The safe door was hanging open.
Nothing inside.
Rebecca took photographs.
“Daniel removed everything.”
One officer asked, “When was the last time you were in this room?”
“Three days ago.”
“Was everything here then?”
“Yes.”
I walked to the bookshelf.
Something silver caught my eye behind a row of books.
I pulled out a tiny metal object.
“Mom?”
She turned.
“What is that?”
The officer took it from me.
“A flash drive.”
Mom stared.
“I’ve never seen it.”
Grandpa smiled for the first time all day.
“Maybe Daniel missed something.”
Rebecca placed it in an evidence bag.
“We make a copy before opening it.”
Then I noticed something else.
A photograph lying facedown beneath the desk.
I picked it up.
It showed Dad and me at a baseball game.
I was five.
He had cotton candy stuck to his nose.
I was laughing.
My throat tightened.
Mom saw.
She walked over.
“You can keep it.”
I shook my head.
“Why did he leave this one?”
Mom couldn’t answer.
Before we left, I went upstairs.
My bedroom looked untouched.
My pink blanket.
My drawings.
My stuffed animals.
I opened my closet.
Most of my clothes were still there.
Then I saw something on my pillow.
A white envelope.
EMILY was written across the front.
“Mom!”
Everyone rushed in.
Rebecca picked up the envelope.
“Don’t touch it.”
“It’s from Dad,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“That’s his handwriting.”
Mom’s face tightened.
The officer opened it with gloves.
Inside was a single page.
Rebecca read it first.
Then she looked at Mom.
“What?”
Mom grabbed the letter.
Her lips moved as she read.
Then she sat on my bed.
“What does it say?” I asked.
Mom hesitated.
I took the page.
The words were simple enough.
Emily,
I am sorry you saw what happened.
None of it should have happened in front of you.
I am angry and confused.
I need time.
I don’t know what I am to you anymore.
But you deserve to know the truth.
Ask your mother why Luke Bennett suddenly disappeared seven years ago.
Dad.
I read the last word twice.
Dad.
He still signed Dad.
I looked at Mom.
“Why did Luke disappear?”
Mom’s face was completely white.
Grandpa turned toward her.
“Sarah?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel clearly thinks you do.”
“I don’t.”
Rebecca crossed her arms.
“When was the last time you saw Luke?”
Mom looked at the floor.
“The night Emily was conceived.”
Grandpa blinked.
“Never after that?”
“No.”
“Not once?”
“No.”
Rebecca asked, “Did you try to contact him?”
“I called him two weeks later.”
“And?”
“His number had been disconnected.”
“Email?”
“No response.”
“Family?”
“He didn’t have much family.”
Grandpa frowned.
“I remember his mother.”
“She died before graduation.”
“What about his father?”
“Gone.”
Rebecca looked at the letter again.
“Daniel knows something.”
The officer stepped into the hallway.
“Ma’am?”
We turned.
He held another envelope.
“This was taped beneath the desk.”
Mom stared at it.
The front had her name.
SARAH.
Not Dad’s handwriting.
A different hand.
Older.
Shakier.
She opened it.
Inside was a yellowed letter.
The date was seven years ago.
Mom read the first line.
Then gasped.
“What?” Grandpa demanded.
She handed it to Rebecca.
Rebecca read aloud.
Sarah,
I don’t know whether Daniel ever gave you my message.
Luke was in an accident last night.
He survived, but there was serious head trauma.
He keeps asking for you.
Please come if you can.
Margaret Bennett.
Mom backed into the wall.
“No.”
Grandpa took the letter.
“What is this?”
Mom’s voice cracked.
“I never got that.”
Rebecca looked at the envelope.
“It was already opened.”
Everyone turned toward each other.
Mom whispered, “Daniel had this.”
Grandpa’s face filled with rage.
“He knew Luke was trying to reach you.”
Mom shook her head harder.
“No. No, Daniel wouldn’t…”
But she couldn’t finish.
I looked at the date.
Then at Mom.
“What happened to Luke?”
Nobody knew.
Rebecca pulled out her phone.
“I’m finding out.”
It took less than five minutes.
She searched his name.
Then her expression changed.
She turned the phone toward Mom.
A news article appeared.
LOCAL TEACHER RECOVERS AFTER SEVERE HIGHWAY CRASH.
The photograph beneath it showed Luke.
Mom touched the screen.
“He survived.”
Rebecca scrolled.
The article was old.
Seven years old.
Another result appeared.
A more recent one.
Luke Bennett.
Owner of Bennett Youth Sports Foundation.
Portland, Oregon.
Alive.
Mom stared at his photograph.
The man in the picture was older now.
But it was him.
Grandpa whispered, “Daniel knew.”
Mom’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered slowly.
“Hello?”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then a man said something.
Mom dropped the phone.
Rebecca picked it up and put it on speaker.
“Sarah?”
Mom stared at the device like it was a ghost.
The man spoke again.
“It’s Luke.”
I stopped breathing.
Mom whispered, “How did you get this number?”
Luke answered.
“Your husband called me this morning.”
Grandpa’s eyes narrowed.
“What did he want?”
Luke went silent.
Then he said the sentence that changed everything again.
“He told me Emily is my daughter.”
Mom grabbed the table.
May you like
Luke continued.
“And he told me if I want her, I should come get her before you lose custody.”
