Chapter 9: My Father's Last Secret
The next morning, I woke up in Caleb's guest bedroom.
I hadn't really slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother's hospital bracelet, the fake medication authorization, and Vanessa being dragged away from the desk.
The police had taken her in for questioning.
But they hadn't charged her with anything related to my mother's death.
Not yet.
There were too many missing records.
Too many suspicious documents.
Too many people who had disappeared.
At 8:17 a.m., Caleb knocked on my door.
"Emily?""
I sat up.
"What?""
"There's someone downstairs.""
"Who?""
He hesitated.
"He says he's your uncle.""
I stared at him.
"My uncle?""
"He gave me his name. Thomas Bennett.""
I recognized it from my mother's letter.
Her brother.
The man she had supposedly lost contact with twenty years earlier.
I hurried downstairs.
A tall man in his early fifties stood beside the living room window.
He had gray hair, tired eyes, and a small scar across his chin.
When he saw me, he froze.
"Emily?""
I nodded.
He took one step forward.
"You look just like Laura.""
I didn't know what to say.
"You're my mother's brother?""
"Yes.""
"Where have you been?""
His eyes filled.
"Trying to keep you alive.""
The words made my stomach tighten.
Caleb stood behind me.
Thomas glanced at him.
"Can we talk privately?""
"No," I answered.
"Whatever you know, you can say in front of him.""
Thomas nodded slowly.
"Your mother contacted me six years ago. She had discovered Vanessa and Daniel were trying to steal the inheritance she had set aside for you.""
"Why didn't you help her?""
"I tried. But I was living overseas. By the time I returned, Laura was already in the hospital.""
I folded my arms.
"Did you know Michael Carter?""
Thomas's expression changed.
"Yes.""
"He's my biological father?""
"Yes.""
"Where is he?""
Thomas looked toward the window.
"That's complicated.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone keeps saying that. I'm tired of complicated.""
He reached into his jacket and removed a folded photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside a man outside a small restaurant.
Michael.
He looked older than he did in the hospital photograph, but the same gentle expression was visible in his eyes.
On the back was a handwritten address.
"Your mother gave me this," Thomas said.
"She told me that if anything happened to her, I should take you there.""
I took the photograph.
"Why didn't you come sooner?""
"Because I received a message saying you had died.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
Thomas looked devastated.
"Six years ago, I received a copy of your death certificate. It said you had died after an allergic reaction. Your mother had supposedly died three days earlier.""
I felt sick.
"Someone sent you the fake certificate.""
"Yes. It came with a letter claiming Richard had adopted another child and wanted no further contact with the family.""
I looked at Caleb.
The fake death certificate wasn't simply an attempt to collect insurance money.
It had been used to erase me from the lives of people who might have protected me.
Thomas continued.
"I spent years trying to find you. Every time I got close, someone changed the address or claimed you had moved.""
"Vanessa.""
He nodded.
"Probably.""
I sat down.
"Where is Michael?""
Thomas placed the photograph beside me.
"At the address on the back. He's been waiting.""
My throat tightened.
"Waiting for what?""
"For you.""
I looked at the address.
It was a small town outside Dallas.
Before I could ask anything else, my phone rang.
Richard.
I answered.
"Dad?""
His voice sounded exhausted.
"Emily, where are you?""
"With Caleb.""
"I need to see you.""
"Why?""
"Because Vanessa wasn't the only person hiding things.""
I closed my eyes.
"What now?""
He took a shaky breath.
"I found something in her car. Something she forgot to destroy.""
"What?""
"A hospital identification badge.""
"Whose?""
"Margaret Hale's.""
My blood ran cold.
"How did you get it?""
"Police let me collect some of my belongings. I found it beneath the spare tire.""
"Why would Vanessa have Margaret's badge?""
"I don't know. But there's a photograph attached to it.""
I waited.
Richard's voice dropped.
"Emily, it's a photograph of you.""
My stomach tightened.
"What kind of photograph?""
"Taken at the hospital. The night your mother died.""
I stood up.
"Send it to me.""
"I will. But there's something else.""
"What?""
He hesitated.
"Your mother wasn't supposed to be in Room 314.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
"She was originally admitted to Room 208. Someone transferred her after midnight.""
"Who?""
"I checked the old hospital records. The transfer request was approved by a nurse.""
"What's her name?""
Richard went quiet.
Then he said:
"Margaret Hale.""
The call ended.
A few seconds later, the photograph arrived.
I opened it.
It showed me as a twelve-year-old girl sitting outside a hospital room.
My face was wet with tears.
I remembered that night.
I remembered Vanessa telling me to wait in the corridor while she spoke with the doctors.
I remembered falling asleep on a plastic chair.
But I had never noticed the woman standing behind me.
Margaret Hale.
She was holding a small envelope.
On the back of the photograph was a message.
*Emily was never supposed to leave the hospital that night.*
I read it again.
Then I noticed something else.
A reflection in the glass door behind Margaret.
A man standing at the end of the corridor.
A man holding a bouquet of white flowers.
I zoomed in.
It was Michael Carter.
My biological father.
And written beneath the photograph, in my mother's handwriting, were five words:
*He came back for you, sweetheart.*
My eyes filled with tears.
Then Thomas's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
"Where?""
He listened.
"Are you certain?""
Another pause.
Then he slowly lowered the phone.
I looked at him.
"What happened?""
Thomas swallowed.
"Michael knows we've found the photograph.""
"How?""
"Because he just called me.""
"Where is he?""
Thomas looked directly at me.
"He's not at the address anymore.""
My heart sank.
"Where did he go?""
Thomas's voice broke.
"Someone came to his house last night. They left a message on his front door.""
"What message?""
He hesitated.
Then he showed me a photograph on his phone.
A white envelope had been taped to Michael's door.
Across it, someone had written:
*STOP LOOKING FOR EMILY, OR SHE'LL END UP LIKE HER MOTHER.*
May you like
And beneath the warning was a single name.
*VANESSA.*
