Chapter 6 - The Father Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
“Mommy?”
Nia’s voice came from behind the door.
I forgot everything else.
Daniel Mercer stood in front of me.
Alive.
Older.
Calmer.
And completely irrelevant compared with the sound of my daughter calling for me.
I pushed past him.
“Move.”
Daniel didn't.
“Sarah, wait.”
“Move!”
He stepped aside.
I reached the door and pulled it open.
Nia was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room.
Her paper crown was still crooked.
Her emerald dress was wrinkled.
Her cheeks were wet.
But she was unharmed.
I ran to her.
She jumped into my arms.
I held her so tightly that she squeaked.
“Mommy!”
“I've got you.”
“You came.”
“Of course I came.”
She wrapped both arms around my neck.
“I was waiting.”
“I know.”
“I was brave.”
“You were very brave.”
She pulled back.
“Is he bad?”
I looked over her shoulder.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
My daughter pointed at him.
“He gave me apple juice.”
I stared at Daniel.
“You gave her something?”
“He was thirsty.”
“She.”
He nodded.
“She was thirsty.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I held Nia tighter.
“You don't touch my daughter again.”
Daniel's face changed.
“I never wanted to hurt her.”
“You disappeared.”
“I had to.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I didn't have a choice.”
“There is always a choice.”
He looked at Ethan.
“No. Not this time.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Where have you been?”
Daniel gave him a tired smile.
“That's your first question?”
“Yes.”
“Not whether I'm alive?”
“I already know you're alive.”
“Then you have changed.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“You should not have brought Sarah here.”
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
Daniel looked toward Thomas.
Nobody spoke.
I suddenly understood.
“This was all arranged.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“Not me.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You shouldn't believe anyone right now.”
“Then give me one reason to believe you.”
Daniel looked at Nia.
“Because I could have taken her.”
My stomach tightened.
“But I didn't.”
“That's supposed to make me grateful?”
“No.”
He paused.
“It's supposed to make you understand that I'm not the person you think I am.”
I looked down at Nia.
She was watching him carefully.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Is he my daddy?”
The question shattered the room.
Daniel closed his eyes.
Ethan looked away.
Thomas said nothing.
I couldn't answer.
Because for four years, I had told Nia one simple story.
Her father had loved her.
Her father had died.
Her father had never abandoned her.
It had been easier than telling her the truth.
Whatever the truth was.
I knelt beside her.
“We'll talk about that later.”
She frowned.
“Why?”
“Because grown-up things are complicated.”
She looked at Daniel.
“He knows my birthday.”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
“How?”
Nobody answered.
Nia leaned toward me.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Why does everybody look scared?”
I pulled her against my chest.
“Because we're going home.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“You can't.”
I turned.
“Watch me.”
“If you leave this building, they will know.”
“Who?”
“The people who have been watching her.”
I froze.
Daniel pointed toward the hallway.
“They didn't bring Nia here to frighten you.”
“Then why?”
“To force you to open the records.”
I looked at the files scattered across the desk.
“What records?”
“The ones your mother hid.”
My blood went cold.
“My mother?”
Daniel nodded.
“Your mother knew Richard.”
“No.”
“She did.”
“My mother never met Richard Reeves.”
“She did.”
“You're lying.”
“She worked for him.”
I shook my head.
“My mother was a school secretary.”
“She told you that.”
Daniel's voice softened.
“She wasn't only a school secretary.”
I felt Nia's fingers curl around mine.
“What did she do?”
“She worked in Richard's private research office.”
I stared at him.
“For how long?”
“Four years.”
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“Because Richard made her promise.”
“Promise what?”
“Never to tell you what happened to your daughter.”
I looked at Nia.
“What happened to her?”
Daniel looked at Ethan.
“That's the part he doesn't know.”
Ethan's expression hardened.
“Stop speaking for me.”
Daniel ignored him.
“Richard believed Nia was the key to something.”
“What?”
“A genetic condition.”
Thomas spoke quietly.
“Not a condition.”
Everyone looked at him.
Thomas continued.
“A marker.”
Daniel nodded.
“Exactly.”
“What marker?”
Daniel reached into his coat and pulled out a folded document.
I recognized the hospital logo.
Boston Mercy.
He handed it to me.
I unfolded it.
There were medical terms I didn't understand.
But one sentence was clear.
Subject demonstrates rare inherited neurological resistance marker.
I stared at it.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel looked at Nia.
“It means she has something your family spent millions trying to find.”
“My family?”
“Not yours.”
“Richard's.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Richard wasn't interested in money.”
I looked at Ethan.
“What was he interested in?”
Ethan answered quietly.
“Control.”
The word settled over us.
I looked back at the document.
“There is another name here.”
Daniel's face tightened.
“Whose?”
“Rebecca Reeves.”
Ethan went still.
“My mother.”
I looked at him.
“Your mother was involved?”
“She died when I was ten.”
Daniel nodded.
“She was the reason Richard started the research.”
“Why?”
“Because she was sick.”
Ethan's face changed.
“My mother wasn't sick.”
“She was.”
“You're lying.”
“She had a degenerative neurological disease.”
Ethan stepped toward him.
“My father said she died of a heart condition.”
“Your father lied.”
Ethan stared at Daniel.
Daniel continued.
“Rebecca's condition progressed rapidly. Richard spent years searching for a genetic explanation. He eventually discovered a rare marker in a small number of families.”
“And my daughter has it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because she inherited it.”
“From whom?”
He didn't answer.
I already knew the answer was going to hurt.
“From me?”
“No.”
“Then from Daniel?”
“No.”
I looked at Ethan.
He didn't move.
Daniel's eyes remained on him.
“From Richard.”
Ethan's face emptied.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if the paternity records were altered.”
I looked between them.
“What are you saying?”
Daniel pulled another paper from his coat.
“This is the original birth registration.”
He placed it in my hands.
I read the names.
Mother: Sarah Bennett.
Then the father line.
I stared.
My entire body went cold.
The name wasn't Daniel.
It wasn't Ethan.
It wasn't Richard.
It was a name I had never seen.
Alexander Reeves.
I looked up.
“Who is Alexander?”
Ethan's face had gone completely white.
Thomas stepped backward.
Daniel whispered:
“Richard's older brother.”
I stared at the page.
“That can't be.”
“He died twenty-eight years ago.”
“Then how could he be Nia's father?”
“He couldn't.”
Daniel looked toward the photograph on the desk.
“That's why the records were changed.”
I couldn't understand.
“Then whose DNA was tested?”
Daniel didn't answer.
I looked at Ethan.
“Whose?”
Ethan picked up the report again.
His hands were shaking.
“The test says I'm related to Nia.”
“How closely?”
He looked at the percentage.
“It's not a normal father-child match.”
“What does it mean?”
Thomas took the report.
His eyes widened.
“This is impossible.”
“What?”
He looked at Ethan.
“It's a sibling-level match.”
The room went silent.
Ethan stared at me.
I stared back.
Daniel stepped closer.
“That's why Richard couldn't tell you the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Ethan wasn't supposed to be Nia's father.”
My heart pounded.
“Then why did the test say he was?”
Daniel looked toward Thomas.
“Because someone changed the reference sample.”
Thomas suddenly looked sick.
“Richard's sample.”
Daniel nodded.
“Exactly.”
Ethan's voice was barely audible.
“My father switched the DNA.”
“For what?”
“To make it look like you were the father.”
I stared at Ethan.
“Why would he do that?”
Daniel answered.
“To protect the real identity of Nia's father.”
I felt Nia move closer to me.
“Who is my daddy?”
I looked down at her.
My daughter was staring at me.
Waiting.
I couldn't lie anymore.
But I couldn't tell her something I didn't understand myself.
Daniel crouched slowly.
“Nia.”
She looked at him.
“Do I know you?”
His eyes filled with emotion.
“Yes.”
“Are you my daddy?”
He hesitated.
Then whispered:
“I was supposed to be.”
My chest tightened.
Nia frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel looked at me.
“It means someone stole four years from both of us.”
I pulled Nia behind me.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“I won't hurt her.”
“You already did.”
His face broke.
“I know.”
The overhead lights suddenly flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then every light in the basement went out.
Nia screamed.
I grabbed her.
“It's okay.”
A red emergency light came on.
The records room door slammed shut.
Thomas rushed toward it.
Locked.
Then a projector on the far wall suddenly turned on.
A video appeared.
A hospital room.
Three years earlier.
I saw myself lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
I saw a nurse carrying a newborn.
I saw Richard Reeves enter.
Then Ethan appeared.
Twenty-four years old.
Standing beside him.
And behind them was another man.
A man I had never seen.
The video zoomed closer.
The man's face became clear.
Ethan stared at the screen.
Thomas whispered:
“No.”
Daniel stepped backward.
I looked at the face.
Then at Ethan.
Then back at the screen.
Because the man holding my newborn daughter wasn't Richard.
It wasn't Ethan.
May you like
It wasn't Daniel.
It was someone who looked exactly like Ethan.
