Chapter 5 - The Letter That Came Back
"Three months?"
Daniel stared at the DNA report.
I took it from him.
The date was unmistakable.
Three months earlier.
"How did she get Lily's DNA?"
My voice shook for the first time.
Daniel immediately took out his phone.
Sophia didn't answer.
He called again.
Voicemail.
I looked at Lily.
"Sweetheart, when Sophia came here, did she touch you?"
"No."
"Did she give you food?"
"No."
"Did she take anything?"
Lily thought.
"She asked if she could see Bunny."
My eyes moved toward the stuffed animal.
"Why?"
"She said he was cute."
Daniel picked up the bunny.
A small section of fur near one ear had been cut.
Hair.
Lily's hair could easily have become caught there.
But three months ago?
"No," I whispered.
Daniel understood.
"This isn't from today."
I called my mother.
She answered on the second ring.
"Elena?"
"Mom, has anyone contacted you about Daniel recently?"
Silence.
My heart sank.
"Mom."
"A woman called."
"When?"
"Months ago."
"What woman?"
"She said she worked for a law firm."
"What did she want?"
"She asked questions about Lily."
I closed my eyes.
"What did you tell her?"
"Nothing important."
"Mom."
"She already knew Daniel was the father."
My blood ran cold.
"How?"
"Elena, I assumed you told someone."
"I didn't."
Daniel was listening.
"Did this woman ever come to your house?"
My mother hesitated.
"Once."
"Why?"
"She said Daniel was updating medical records."
I nearly dropped the phone.
"Did you give her anything belonging to Lily?"
"A hairbrush."
Daniel swore.
"Mom, listen carefully. What did she look like?"
My mother described her.
Not Sophia.
Older.
Dark hair.
Gray coat.
Daniel began typing something.
"Name?"
"She called herself Margaret."
Daniel looked up.
"Margaret Cole."
I recognized the surname.
"Nathan?"
"His sister."
The analyst from the fake photographs.
Daniel called someone.
Ten minutes later, he had confirmation.
Margaret Cole had worked for Richard Whitmore for nine years.
Richard hadn't discovered Lily five years ago.
He had known earlier.
Possibly from the beginning.
The lies were peeling back one layer at a time.
And every layer made me angrier.
Sophia finally called.
Daniel answered on speaker.
"Where are you?"
"At my apartment."
"You knew."
Silence.
"Sophia."
"Yes."
"Three months?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Richard contacted me."
I felt sick.
"He told me Elena had a daughter. He thought she might be yours."
"And you tested her without permission?"
"I needed to know."
"You needed?"
"I was going to tell you."
"When?"
"When I figured out what it meant."
Daniel laughed bitterly.
"It meant I had a daughter."
"I know."
"No. Apparently everyone knew except me."
Sophia began crying.
Daniel didn't soften.
"Did Richard ask you to keep it secret?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He said Elena wanted nothing to do with you."
I took the phone.
"You could have called me."
"I know."
"You could have asked."
"I know."
"You had my daughter's DNA tested."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that."
Silence.
I handed the phone back.
Daniel said, "Don't contact Lily again."
"Daniel—"
"Not until Elena says otherwise."
"What about us?"
Daniel looked at me.
Then away.
"There is no us."
Sophia inhaled sharply.
"You don't mean that."
"I do."
"You can't erase seven years."
His face tightened.
"I'm learning that better than anyone."
He ended the call.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Lily appeared from the bedroom.
"Are grown-ups done yelling?"
Guilt hit me instantly.
"Yes."
"Good. I'm hungry."
Daniel laughed despite himself.
"Pizza?"
She looked at me.
"Can Dad eat with us?"
Dad.
Still strange.
Still painful.
"Yes."
We ordered pizza.
For one hour, we didn't discuss letters, DNA tests, betrayal, or Richard.
Lily made Daniel play a card game.
She cheated.
He noticed.
He let her.
I didn't.
"Lily."
"What?"
"You can't hide cards under Bunny."
Daniel looked offended.
"Bunny is clearly an accomplice."
She giggled.
I watched them.
This was dangerous.
Not Daniel.
Hope.
Hope was dangerous.
Because it made you imagine things before reality had earned them.
After Lily fell asleep, Daniel and I sat by the window.
"I'm filing for legal paternity recognition tomorrow," he said.
"Okay."
"Only with your agreement."
"Okay."
"I want to pay support retroactively."
"No."
"Elena."
"I don't need your money."
"It's not for you."
"Put it in a trust for Lily."
He nodded.
"Done."
"And no publicity."
"Absolutely."
"Nobody at Whitmore Technologies uses her name."
"Agreed."
"No surprise visits."
"Agreed."
"No gifts designed to buy affection."
He almost smiled.
"Define excessive."
"Daniel."
"Fine."
Silence settled.
Then he asked, "Were you happy?"
"In Seattle?"
"Without me."
I thought about it.
"Eventually."
He nodded.
"Good."
"You?"
He looked toward the city.
"Successful."
"That's not what I asked."
"I know."
Another silence.
"Sophia and I spent years trying to prove we'd made the right choice."
I looked at him.
"That's a terrible reason to stay together."
"Yes."
"Did you love her?"
"I did."
"Do you still?"
"No."
There was no hesitation.
That scared me more than if there had been.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Turn this into some story where discovering Lily suddenly means you were supposed to be with me."
"I'm not."
"Good."
He looked at me.
"But I'm allowed to regret losing you."
I stood.
"Good night, Daniel."
"Elena."
I stopped.
"I found your wedding ring."
My hand tightened.
"What?"
"In the warehouse."
I turned.
He removed something from his pocket.
My old wedding ring.
I had left it on the dresser the morning I signed the divorce papers.
"I thought you sold it."
"I couldn't."
"How did it get to the warehouse?"
"It was inside the box with your letter."
He held it out.
I didn't take it.
"Keep it."
"Why?"
"Because it belongs to a life that doesn't exist anymore."
His hand closed around it.
"You're right."
The sadness in his voice almost broke me.
The next morning, the conference continued.
I had a presentation at eleven.
Daniel offered to watch Lily.
I hesitated.
Then agreed for one hour.
When I returned, they were in the hotel café building something out of sugar packets.
Lily saw me.
"Mom!"
Daniel looked up.
For one impossible second, the scene looked normal.
Like a family.
I hated how much I wanted that illusion.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
This time there was a voicemail.
I played it.
Richard's voice.
"Elena, there's something you need to know about the night Daniel left you. I didn't create every lie."
I looked at Daniel.
The message continued.
"One of the photographs I gave Daniel was real."
My stomach dropped.
Daniel stood.
"What?"
Richard's voice finished:
"Ask Elena what Nathan Cole told her three days before the divorce."
Daniel looked at me.
I remembered.
And suddenly I understood which photograph Richard meant.
Nathan kissing me.
Not on the lips.
On the forehead.
But Daniel had never known why.
"Elena?"
Before I could answer, another message appeared.
This one came from Nathan Cole himself.
Seven years of silence.
May you like
Then six words:
WE NEED TO FINISH WHAT WE STARTED.
