Chapter 5
Eric lived forty minutes away.
Forty minutes.
For years, I had imagined him somewhere across the country.
Maybe another state.
Maybe another life.
Instead, he had been less than an hour from his son.
Noah stared at my phone.
“Put him on speaker.”
I hesitated.
“Mom.”
I did.
Eric’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Is Noah there?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then, very carefully, Eric said, “Hey, Noah.”
My son’s face changed.
Not happiness.
Not anger.
Something in between.
“You tried to contact me?”
Eric inhaled.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“How many?”
“At least eight.”
I looked at Rachel.
She closed her eyes.
Noah asked, “Why did you leave?”
The question came out small.
Eric didn’t hide from it.
“Because I was selfish.”
Noah looked surprised.
“I was drinking. I was unreliable. Your mom gave me chances I didn’t deserve.”
I swallowed.
That part was true.
“She asked me to get help, and instead I ran.”
Noah’s eyes filled with tears.
“So why come back?”
“Because I got sober.”
“How long?”
“Almost nine years.”
I froze.
Nine years.
Noah was fourteen.
Eric had left when he was two.
That meant he had been sober for years before Mark entered our lives.
“Why didn’t you come sooner?” I asked.
“I did.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“When Noah was six.”
Just before I met Mark.
“I sent letters.”
“I never got them.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because Mark contacted me.”
The kitchen became silent.
“What?”
Eric continued.
“He called me about seven years ago.”
My hand started shaking.
“What did he say?”
“He told me you were engaged.”
“We weren’t engaged then.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“He told me Noah was happy. He said you wanted me to stop contacting you.”
“I never said that.”
“I know that now too.”
“Why did you believe him?”
“Because I thought you had every right to hate me.”
Noah turned away.
Eric’s voice grew rough.
“I didn’t want to crash into your life and hurt him again.”
“So you disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“That was easy for you.”
“No.”
I heard pain in his voice.
“But it was cowardly.”
Noah looked at the phone again.
“What about the emails?”
“I tried again before your mom’s wedding.”
My eyes closed.
“What did Mark say then?”
“He came to see me.”
I gripped the phone.
“In person?”
“Yes.”
Rachel made a sound beside me.
I held up one hand.
“What happened?”
“He told me you knew everything.”
“He lied.”
“I understand that now.”
“What did he want?”
“He offered me money.”
Noah turned sharply.
“What?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
“To stay away?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take it?” Noah asked.
“No.”
My son’s shoulders dropped slightly.
Eric continued.
“I told him I didn’t want money. I wanted one chance to speak with your mom.”
“And?”
“He said if I contacted you again, he would make sure you knew every ugly thing I did when I was drinking.”
I almost laughed from shock.
“I already knew.”
“I know.”
“But you believed him.”
“I was ashamed.”
The word landed heavily.
Eric took a breath.
“Then he showed me adoption papers.”
I sat down.
Noah’s eyes widened.
“What adoption papers?”
“He said you wanted him to adopt Noah.”
I whispered, “I never filed adoption papers.”
Mark and I had discussed adoption once.
Years ago.
Noah was nine.
He’d asked if Mark could officially become his father.
Mark had cried.
He’d hugged him.
He’d promised we would look into it.
Then somehow, the conversation faded.
There was always a reason.
Too expensive.
Too complicated.
Wrong timing.
Now I understood.
Mark had never wanted Eric involved.
But he also hadn’t wanted a legal adoption that might expose the fact that Eric had not abandoned contact completely.
“Do you still have the documents?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Send them to me.”
“I will.”
I looked at Noah.
He had wrapped both arms around himself.
“I think that’s enough for now.”
“Okay.”
Eric hesitated.
“Lisa?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
I almost ended the call.
Instead I said, “We’ll talk later.”
When the call ended, Noah walked outside.
I followed him to the backyard.
He sat on the steps.
I sat beside him.
For a while, we said nothing.
Finally he asked, “Did you love my dad?”
“When I was young, yes.”
“Do you still?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Do you hate him?”
“I did for a long time.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know him anymore.”
Noah picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“Do I have to meet him?”
“No.”
“Can I?”
The question hurt.
But I answered immediately.
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“Because Mark is my dad too.”
I swallowed.
“He raised you.”
“He taught me to ride a bike.”
“I know.”
“He came to every game.”
“I know.”
“He stayed with me in the hospital when I broke my arm.”
I squeezed his hand.
“I know.”
Tears rolled down Noah’s cheeks.
“How can someone do all those good things and still be bad?”
I took a breath.
“People aren’t simple.”
“That doesn’t answer it.”
“No.”
I looked across the yard.
“Sometimes someone can love you and still do terrible things. Sometimes love doesn’t fix what’s wrong inside them.”
He wiped his face.
“Do you think he loves me?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
Whatever Mark had done to me, I had seen him love Noah.
That made everything worse.
My phone buzzed.
The documents from Eric arrived.
I opened the first image.
There was my name.
A fake signature beneath it.
My stomach turned.
The second page contained another signature.
Mark Bennett.
The third carried a law office letterhead.
I stared at the name.
Greene and Mercer.
Thomas Greene’s firm.
I called him immediately.
When he answered, I didn’t bother saying hello.
“Did you prepare adoption papers for Mark?”
“What?”
“I’m looking at documents on your letterhead.”
“Send them.”
I did.
Thirty seconds later, Thomas called back.
“These are not ours.”
“The letterhead is.”
“It’s old letterhead. We changed the design eight years ago.”
“Could someone have gotten copies?”
“Possibly.”
“Rachel?”
My sister appeared in the doorway.
Thomas hesitated.
“Rachel worked in our office for one summer.”
I turned slowly.
She looked confused.
“What?”
I put him on speaker.
Thomas said, “Seven years ago, Rachel worked temporary reception for us.”
Rachel’s face drained.
“Wait.”
I stared at her.
“You had access to the letterhead.”
“I didn’t make those!”
“But you could have.”
“No.”
Thomas interrupted.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The document contains a file number.”
I looked at the page.
A sequence was printed in the upper-right corner.
Thomas said, “That file number belonged to your father.”
Rachel sat down hard.
“What kind of file?” I asked.
“His dispute with Marcus Bell.”
The same file.
Mark.
Dad.
The missing money.
Everything was connected.
My phone rang again.
Mark.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
His voice sounded breathless.
“Lisa, listen carefully.”
“Did you forge adoption papers?”
Silence.
“Did you?”
“I didn’t create them.”
“Who did?”
“I can’t explain this over the phone.”
“You’ve had seven years.”
“Lisa.”
“Who sent Eric the picture?”
“I did.”
That stopped me.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you need someone outside the family right now.”
I looked at Rachel.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Rachel is lying to you.”
“She admitted she was with Dad.”
“That’s not the lie.”
“Then what is?”
“Ask her why Dad’s missing forty thousand dollars appeared in her bank account three days after he died.”
Rachel shot to her feet.
“That’s a lie!”
Mark heard her.
“You let her in?”
Rachel shouted toward the phone.
“You disgusting coward!”
Mark yelled back, “Tell her!”
I stood between my sister and the phone as if that made sense.
“Everybody stop!”
Silence.
My hands were shaking.
“Mark, where are you?”
“I’m outside Thomas Greene’s office.”
Thomas went quiet.
“Why?”
“Because I’m done hiding.”
Mark’s breathing was heavy.
“I have the original account records.”
Rachel whispered, “No.”
Mark heard her.
“Yes, Rachel.”
Her face collapsed.
“No.”
“What account records?” I asked.
Mark answered.
“The ones that prove your father’s money wasn’t stolen by me.”
I looked at Rachel.
She looked terrified.
Mark continued.
“It was transferred into an account in Rachel’s name.”
My sister shook her head over and over.
“No.”
Then Mark said, “And there’s one more thing.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course there was.
“There’s security footage from your father’s house.”
Rachel stopped breathing.
May you like
Mark’s voice dropped.
“From the night he died.”
