Chapter 3
We drove without speaking.
Daniel gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
I kept calling Ava.
No answer.
I called Michael.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Daniel finally spoke.
“You need to tell me everything before we get there.”
“I have.”
“No.”
His eyes stayed on the road.
“You’ve told me the parts Michael already exposed.”
That sentence cut deeply.
Because it was true.
“What else happened?”
I swallowed.
“There was one more time he contacted me.”
Daniel laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Of course there was.”
“It was three years ago.”
He looked at me.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“Money.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“How much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“For what?”
“He said he was in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“And you gave it to him?”
“No.”
Daniel exhaled.
For half a second, I thought that might help.
Then he asked, “Did you tell me?”
“No.”
He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand.
“Damn it, Sarah.”
“I thought ignoring him was the safest thing.”
“You keep making choices for everyone and calling them protection.”
I looked out the window.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because Ava’s fifteen years old and sitting with a man we know almost nothing about because you spent twelve years making sure none of us could talk openly about him.”
I turned toward him.
“I know exactly what Michael is capable of.”
“Then tell me.”
I took a breath.
“When Ava was born, Michael wasn’t just drinking.”
Daniel went still.
“He was gambling.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that people came to our apartment looking for money.”
Daniel swore under his breath.
“One night two men came at three in the morning. Ava was eleven days old. They pounded on the door until the neighbors called police.”
“Why didn’t the court papers mention that?”
“Because Michael’s attorney argued it was hearsay.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“And your father paid him?”
“My father believed Michael would get worse if we cornered him.”
“So he gave a violent gambler fifty thousand dollars.”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“At twenty-two, it made sense to me.”
Daniel stared through the windshield.
I continued.
“Michael disappeared after that. For years, I believed the money had solved everything.”
“Until he contacted you when Ava was eight.”
“Yes.”
“What did his letter say?”
I hesitated.
Daniel noticed.
“Sarah.”
“He said he was sober.”
“And?”
“He said my father had lied to both of us.”
Daniel frowned.
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never opened the blue letter?”
“No.”
“But you read another letter?”
“Yes.”
“Why was the blue one different?”
“Because it wasn’t addressed to me.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Who was it addressed to?”
“Ava.”
His hands tightened again.
I whispered, “It said, ‘For my daughter when she turns fifteen.’”
Daniel’s head snapped toward me.
“Fifteen?”
“Yes.”
“And she turned fifteen two weeks ago.”
“Yes.”
He looked sick.
“You had a letter addressed to her specifically for her fifteenth birthday, and you didn’t give it to her?”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means no.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what was inside?”
“Yes.”
“Did your father know?”
“He was the one who had kept it.”
Daniel frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense. You said Michael mailed it.”
“I assumed he did.”
“You never checked?”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You assumed a lot.”
We reached the address twelve minutes later.
It was a small rental house near the highway.
One porch light was on.
Michael’s truck sat outside.
Daniel parked across the street.
“I’m calling the police.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“Wait.”
He stared at me.
“You think I’m walking into that house without telling anyone where Ava is?”
“No. Call them. But don’t go in angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You’re furious.”
“I’m terrified.”
That stopped me.
His eyes filled with tears.
“She may not consider me her father tonight, but she’s still my daughter.”
My chest broke.
“I know.”
He called 911.
We explained that our minor daughter had left home and was with her biological father, who had no current custodial rights.
The dispatcher told us officers were on the way.
Then the front door opened.
Ava stepped outside.
Alone.
I jumped out.
“Ava!”
She held up her hand.
“Don’t.”
I froze on the sidewalk.
She looked older than she had two hours earlier.
Her eyes were red.
Her face was pale.
Daniel came around the car.
“Ava, are you okay?”
She looked at him.
Her chin trembled.
But she said nothing.
Then Michael stepped onto the porch.
I hadn’t seen him in twelve years.
He was older.
Gray touched his beard.
He wore a clean button-down shirt and dark jeans.
He didn’t look like the monster I had carried in my memory.
That was what frightened me most.
He looked ordinary.
“Sarah.”
“Stay away from her.”
Michael smiled.
“You still give orders before saying hello.”
Daniel moved between us.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Michael looked him up and down.
“So you’re Daniel.”
“I’m Ava’s father.”
Ava flinched.
Michael noticed.
His smile widened slightly.
“Interesting choice of words.”
Daniel stepped forward.
I grabbed his arm.
“No.”
Michael lifted both hands.
“I’m not here to fight.”
“You broke into our house,” Daniel said.
“I didn’t.”
“The security system says otherwise.”
Michael looked at Ava.
My stomach dropped.
“Ava?”
She stared at the ground.
“I let him in.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
“I gave him the code.”
“How did you even meet him?”
She wiped her face.
“He contacted me three weeks ago.”
Everything stopped.
Three weeks.
Before tonight.
Before the argument.
Before she screamed at Daniel.
Before she started calling him “not my real father.”
Daniel understood at the same moment I did.
“This has been going on for weeks?”
Ava nodded.
Michael leaned against the porch railing.
“She had questions.”
“You went behind our backs.”
“She found me.”
Ava finally shouted, “Because nobody here would tell me anything!”
I stared at her.
“You could have asked me.”
“I did!”
Her voice broke.
“Every time I asked about him, you said, ‘He left.’ That was it. You never told me why. You never told me he wrote to me. You never told me he wanted to meet me.”
“Because you were a child!”
“I’m still your child!”
She pointed toward the house.
“But he showed me more truth in one night than you did in twelve years.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Then tell me what’s in the blue letter.”
I stopped.
Ava’s eyes narrowed.
“You still haven’t read it, have you?”
“No.”
“Well, I did.”
My heart pounded.
Michael’s expression changed.
For the first time, he looked nervous.
That frightened me more than his smile.
“What did it say?” I asked.
Ava walked down the porch steps.
Her hands shook.
“It wasn’t written by him.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“The handwriting isn’t Michael’s.”
Daniel looked at Michael.
“Who wrote it?”
Ava looked directly at me.
“Grandpa.”
I couldn’t speak.
“My father?”
Ava nodded.
“He wrote it before he died.”
My legs felt weak.
“He said if I was reading it, then I was old enough to know what he did.”
Daniel whispered, “What did he do?”
Ava’s tears started falling.
“He said he paid Michael fifty thousand dollars.”
“I told you that.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Not to disappear.”
I looked at Michael.
His jaw tightened.
Ava continued.
“Grandpa paid him fifty thousand dollars to take the blame for something.”
A police siren sounded in the distance.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“What something?”
Ava looked at Michael.
Then back at me.
“The night the glass door broke.”
My skin went cold.
She held up the blue letter.
“Grandpa said Michael didn’t throw that chair.”
I couldn’t breathe.
May you like
Ava’s next words nearly dropped me to my knees.
“He said you did.”
