Chapter 9: The Man My Mother Never Forgot
The auditorium seemed to shrink around me.
My mother stared at the photograph as if it were a weapon.
Grandma Margaret sat down, visibly shaken.
Daniel, meanwhile, appeared strangely calm.
"Jonathan Reed is alive," he repeated.
"And he knows about the trust.""
I looked at my mother.
"Who is he?""
She wiped her cheeks.
"He was someone I knew before I married your father.""
"Someone you loved?""
She hesitated.
"Yes.""
The single word felt enormous.
I glanced toward the photograph again.
The man holding my newborn self looked nothing like Richard.
"Did you know he might be my father?""
My mother nodded slowly.
"I suspected. But when I became pregnant, Jonathan and I weren't together anymore. Richard knew about the relationship. He told me he wanted to raise you as his own.""
"Then why did nobody tell me?""
"Because we believed Jonathan had died.""
Daniel cleared his throat.
"That's not entirely true.""
My mother turned sharply.
"What did you do?""
Daniel opened the briefcase and pulled out a newspaper clipping.
It was dated eighteen years earlier.
A small article described a car accident on a rural highway. One man had been declared dead after a vehicle fire.
The victim's name was Jonathan Reed.
My mother covered her mouth.
"I attended his memorial.""
Daniel nodded.
"Because someone wanted you to believe he was dead.""
"Who?""
Daniel looked at Richard's empty seat.
"Your husband.""
I felt dizzy.
"Richard arranged his death?""
"Not necessarily," Daniel replied.
"But he paid someone to obtain a death certificate using Jonathan's identity.""
My mother grabbed the newspaper.
"Why would he do that?""
Daniel looked directly at her.
"Because Jonathan was going to challenge the adoption and paternity arrangements.""
My thoughts raced.
"Adoption?""
My mother turned toward me.
"Richard legally adopted you when you were six months old. He signed every document. He raised you. He loved you.""
I looked at her.
"But if Jonathan was my biological father, why was he never allowed to see me?""
She looked down.
"Your father told me Jonathan had chosen to leave. He showed me letters supposedly written by him.""
Daniel interrupted.
"Those letters were fake.""
My mother slowly turned.
"What?""
"Richard hired someone to write them. He wanted you to believe Jonathan had abandoned you.""
I looked at the photograph again.
The man holding me looked happy.
His eyes were fixed on the baby in his arms.
I wondered whether he had spent eighteen years wondering what happened to me.
"Does he know I'm alive?""
Daniel nodded.
"Yes.""
"Does he know where I am?""
"He does now.""
My mother grabbed the photograph.
"How?""
Daniel hesitated.
"Because I contacted him.""
The officers immediately stepped forward.
"Why would you contact him without informing investigators?""
Daniel raised his hands.
"Because I needed him to confirm the identity of the person who falsified the death certificate.""
My mother looked furious.
"You put Maya in danger.""
"No. I tried to protect her.""
"By hiding the truth for eighteen years?""
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"I was protecting William's trust. Your father and Vanessa weren't the only people involved in this.""
Grandma Margaret stood.
"Daniel, what aren't you telling us?""
He looked at her.
"William discovered that the money in Maya's education trust was being used to finance something much bigger. He suspected that Richard was working with a group of investors to acquire several properties through fraudulent companies.""
"That still doesn't explain Jonathan," I said.
Daniel looked at me.
"Jonathan was the original owner of one of those companies. He discovered the fraud before Richard could complete the transactions.""
My mother shook her head.
"Then why didn't he come forward?""
"Because he was threatened.""
A long silence followed.
Then Daniel placed a small business card on the table.
It belonged to Jonathan Reed.
There was a phone number handwritten on the back.
"He gave me permission to share this with you," Daniel said.
I stared at the number.
My mother took my hand.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to call him today.""
I looked at her.
"I need to know.""
She nodded.
I picked up my phone.
My fingers trembled as I dialed.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Then a man's voice answered.
"Hello?""
I couldn't speak.
"Hello?"" he repeated.
I swallowed.
"Is this Jonathan Reed?""
There was a pause.
"Yes. Who is this?""
"My name is Maya Brooks.""
Silence.
Then I heard something that sounded like a sharp breath.
"Maya?""
My mother began crying beside me.
I closed my eyes.
"Are you my father?""
The silence lasted so long that I thought the call had dropped.
Then the man spoke.
His voice was shaking.
"I've been waiting eighteen years for you to ask me that question.""
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
"Why didn't you find me?""
"I tried, sweetheart. I swear I tried.""
"Then why did you disappear?""
He exhaled.
"Because the last time I tried to see you, someone showed me a photograph of you sleeping in your bedroom.""
My blood turned cold.
"What?""
"They told me that if I ever came near you again, you'd be taken somewhere your mother would never find you.""
I looked at Angela.
She was staring at the phone.
Jonathan continued.
"I have something your grandfather left for you. Something that explains everything. But I can't give it to you over the phone.""
"Where are you?""
"I'm outside the auditorium.""
I turned toward the entrance.
My heart began pounding.
The doors slowly opened.
A man stepped inside.
The same man from the photograph.
Older now. Gray around his temples. His eyes fixed on me.
He took one step forward.
Then another.
My mother whispered his name.
"Jonathan.""
He stopped when he saw her.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then his eyes returned to me.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small velvet box.
"I know this is a terrible way to meet your daughter," he said, his voice breaking.
"But your grandfather wanted you to have this before your eighteenth birthday.""
I stared at the box.
"What is it?""
Jonathan opened it.
Inside was a gold key and a tiny folded note.
He handed me the note.
There were only two sentences.
The money was never the real secret.
Your mother knows who ordered the disappearance.
I slowly looked up.
My mother had gone completely pale.
Because the note was signed by my grandfather.
May you like
And beneath his signature were four words:
*ASK ANGELA ABOUT THE FIRE.*
