Chapter 12: Emily's Final Recording
I grabbed Isaiah's hand.
“Stay behind me.””
Tasha looked toward the hospital entrance.
“Where did he go?””
I shook my head.
“You tell me.””
“I don't know.””
“You brought us here.””
“I brought you here because I needed the drive.””
“Then why did Sean disappear?””
She didn't answer.
Malcolm's voice came through my phone.
“Mom, listen to me.””
“I'm listening.””
“Sean isn't Isaiah's father.””
I looked at Tasha.
She shook her head.
Malcolm continued.
“I found the DNA report.””
My heart pounded.
“What does it say?””
“Sean is not a match.””
I looked toward the dark hospital entrance.
“Then who is?””
“I don't know yet.””
Tasha suddenly stepped forward.
“Give me the phone.””
“No.””
“Evelyn, you need to hear me.””
“You've lied to me for years.””
“I know.””
“And you stole my grandson's money.””
“I know.””
“You forged my signature.””
“I know.””
“Then why should I believe anything you say?””
Her voice broke.
“Because Emily told me to protect him.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
Tasha held up the second flash drive.
“She knew she was dying.””
“Everyone knew that.””
“No. She knew someone was going to come after Isaiah.””
“Who?””
“She never told me.””
“Then what did she tell you?””
Tasha looked at the hospital.
“She said the person responsible would eventually come looking for this.””
She held up the drive.
I took a step forward.
“Give it to me.””
She hesitated.
Then she placed it in my palm.
“Don't play it here.””
“Why?””
“Because there are things Isaiah should never hear.””
We returned to my house.
Malcolm arrived twenty minutes later.
He looked exhausted.
He hugged Isaiah so tightly that the boy disappeared against his chest.
“I'm sorry,” Malcolm whispered.
Isaiah clung to him.
“I thought you forgot me.””
Malcolm closed his eyes.
“I never forgot you.””
I watched them.
Then I placed the second flash drive on the table.
Malcolm stared at it.
“What is that?””
“Emily's final recording.””
His face drained of color.
“Where did you get it?””
“Tasha.””
Malcolm looked at her.
She stood near the door.
“You came here?””
“I needed to finish this.””
He stepped toward her.
“You lied to me.””
“I did.””
“You stole from my son.””
“I did.””
“You forged my mother's signature.””
“I did.””
“Why?””
Tasha looked at Isaiah.
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“That if you learned the truth, you'd leave.””
Malcolm's jaw tightened.
“Then tell me the truth.””
Tasha shook her head.
“Listen to Emily.””
I plugged the drive into my laptop.
A video opened.
Emily appeared on screen.
She looked painfully thin.
Her hospital bed was behind her.
She stared directly into the camera.
“If Malcolm is watching this, I'm sorry.””
Malcolm stopped breathing.
Emily continued.
“I need you to understand something before you hear the rest.””
She swallowed.
“Isaiah is your son.””
Malcolm's eyes closed.
I looked at Tasha.
She was crying silently.
Emily continued.
“Biologically, legally, and in every way that matters.””
Malcolm opened his eyes.
“Then why the DNA test?””
Emily looked down.
“Because someone told me otherwise.””
A long pause.
“I believed the lie for almost nine years.””
My heart pounded.
Emily's voice trembled.
“I found out the truth six months ago.””
She lifted a folder.
“The DNA test was done to prove that Malcolm is Isaiah's biological father.””
Malcolm whispered, “What?””
Emily continued.
“But the first test was altered.””
I looked at Tasha.
She covered her mouth.
Emily's eyes filled with tears.
“Someone changed the sample.””
The video went silent for several seconds.
Then Emily said:
“The person who did it is someone Malcolm trusts.””
The screen suddenly froze.
Malcolm stared at the laptop.
“That's it?””
“No.””
I checked the files.
There was another video.
I clicked it.
Emily appeared again.
This time she was crying.
“I know who changed the sample.””
The recording cut to black.
Then a final audio file appeared.
I pressed play.
Emily's voice filled the room.
“Malcolm, if you're hearing this, don't trust the person who tells you Isaiah isn't yours.””
A man's voice interrupted.
“Emily, you need to stop.””
Emily gasped.
The recording ended.
Everyone in the room was silent.
Malcolm stared at me.
“That was my voice.””
I looked at him.
“No.””
He shook his head.
“It sounded exactly like me.””
Tasha whispered,
“Because it was.””
Malcolm turned toward her.
“You're saying I was there?””
“No.””
She looked at me.
“I'm saying someone recorded him.””
My phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Malcolm standing outside Emily's hospital room on the day she died.
Beside him was another man.
The face had been partially cut off.
But the message beneath the photograph was clear:
*You have been blaming the wrong person for nine years.*
A second message appeared.
*Ask Malcolm what happened at 3:52 p.m.*
Malcolm stared at the screen.
His face went completely white.
“I remember that time.””
I stepped closer.
“What happened at 3:52?””
He looked at me.
May you like
And whispered,
“I wasn't alone with Emily.””
