Chapter 2: The Brother We Buried
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
My dead brother was sitting on a filthy mattress in my house, holding my daughter as if she were the only thing keeping him alive.
Behind me, Vanessa was crying.
Downstairs, footsteps crossed the foyer.
I turned toward the staircase.
“Who's here?””
Vanessa said nothing.
Michael tightened his fingers around my wrist.
“Don't go down there.””
I looked at him.
“Michael, I watched them lower your coffin into the ground.””
“I know.””
“I stood beside your grave for eight years.””
“I know, Mark.””
“Then explain how you're sitting in my house!””
My voice cracked on the last word.
Michael lowered his eyes.
“I can't explain everything in one conversation.””
“Try.””
He swallowed. His lips were cracked, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible.
“The body in that coffin wasn't mine.””
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.””
“They showed you a burned body after the accident. You couldn't recognize the face. Dad told you the dental records matched. He told everyone the same thing.””
“Our father identified you.””
“No.”” Michael looked straight at me.
“Dad told everyone he had identified me.””
A memory flashed through my mind.
The funeral had been closed-casket for most of the service. Our father had insisted that the accident had left Michael too badly injured for anyone to see him.
At the time, I had been too devastated to question anything.
Now that memory felt like a knife turning inside my chest.
I stepped closer to my brother.
“Why didn't you come home?””
Michael gave a hollow laugh.
“Because every time I tried, someone made sure I couldn't.””
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
“Mark, please. Let me explain.””
I rounded on her.
“You have been letting our daughter crawl around a wall to feed a man you told me was dead!””
“I never told you he was dead.””
“You told me he was gone. You told me not to ask questions about him because it hurt you.””
“I was trying to protect Lily.””
“From what?””
Vanessa looked toward the open panel.
Michael answered for her.
“From our father.””
The words struck me harder than the revelation that my brother was alive.
“Our father is dead,” I said.
Michael shook his head.
“You went to the funeral. You saw the coffin. Did you see his body?””
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Three years earlier, our father, Richard Bennett, had supposedly died from a sudden heart attack while traveling for business. His attorney had handled the arrangements. The casket had remained closed, supposedly because of the condition of his body.
I remembered being furious that the funeral director wouldn't let me see him.
I remembered the attorney placing a hand on my shoulder and saying, “Your father wouldn't want you to remember him that way.””
I had accepted it.
Why hadn't I questioned it?
A floorboard creaked downstairs.
Michael flinched so violently that Lily grabbed his hand.
“It's okay, Uncle Michael,” she whispered.
He pulled her closer.
“No, sweetheart. It isn't.””
I crouched in front of him.
“Tell me what happened.””
Michael took a shaky breath.
“Eight years ago, I discovered something about Dad's business. Something involving the construction company, the family trust, and a property in Savannah. I thought I could confront him and force him to stop.””
“What did you discover?””
“Fake identities. Altered records. Money being moved through companies that didn't exist. And a birth certificate that wasn't supposed to exist either.””
I frowned.
“What birth certificate?””
Michael glanced at Lily, then back at me.
“Not yet.””
“Michael, don't do that. Don't give me half a story and expect me to—”
“He told me he'd explain everything when you were ready,” Michael interrupted.
“But you're not ready, Mark. You still believe the people who taught you what to believe.””
I grabbed his shoulders.
“I'm your brother!””
“I know!”” he shouted.
The sound startled Lily.
Michael immediately softened his voice.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart.””
Lily touched his cheek.
“Daddy gets mad when people lie, too.””
My throat tightened.
“Lily, why didn't you tell me about Uncle Michael?””
She looked down at her hands.
“Mommy said you would get hurt.””
“Who told you to feed him?””
“No one. I heard him coughing behind the wall one night. I found the little door when Mommy was asleep.””
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Lily continued, “He was thirsty, Daddy. He said he didn't want to scare me, but he couldn't stand up.””
I looked at my wife.
“How long has he been in there?””
Vanessa's shoulders shook.
“Eight years.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“Eight years? You've been keeping my brother in a locked room for eight years?””
“I didn't put him there!””
“Then who did?””
She looked at the staircase.
Before she could answer, the footsteps downstairs stopped.
A man's voice called from the foyer.
“Vanessa? I know Mark's home. Let's not make this difficult.””
My blood turned to ice.
I knew that voice, too.
It was deeper than I remembered, older, but unmistakable.
Richard Bennett.
My supposedly dead father.
Lily buried her face against Michael's chest.
Michael went completely still.
Then he whispered, “He found out you were coming home.””
I stood and moved toward the doorway.
Michael grabbed my hand.
“Mark, listen to me. If he tells you I killed myself, don't believe him. If he tells you I'm insane, don't believe him. And if he tells you Lily belongs to someone else—”
A shadow fell across the hallway.
Vanessa screamed.
“DON'T YOU DARE TELL HIM THAT!””
I turned.
She wasn't looking at Michael.
May you like
She was staring at our daughter.
And Lily had begun to cry.
