Chapter 6 - A Father at the Door
Daniel read Nathan's message twice.
"What did you start?"
"Nothing."
"Elena."
"Don't use that tone with me."
"What tone?"
"The one you used seven years ago when you had already decided I was guilty."
He stopped.
"You're right."
That surprised me.
I exhaled.
"Nathan knew someone was manipulating the Harlow acquisition."
Daniel stared.
"He told you?"
"Three days before the divorce."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I tried."
"When?"
"That night."
I remembered Daniel walking through the door at nearly midnight.
I'd started talking.
He'd received a call from Sophia.
She was crying.
He left.
The next day, he came home with divorce papers.
"I never got the chance."
"What did Nathan know?"
"He found irregular transfers."
"Richard?"
"He suspected Richard."
Daniel sat down.
"And the photograph?"
"Nathan was scared. He thought he was going to lose his job. We met at a restaurant. When we left, he hugged me and kissed my forehead."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"The photograph cut off the angle."
"Yes."
"So I saw exactly what Richard wanted."
"Yes."
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
"I was such an idiot."
"You were."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Then I called Nathan.
He answered.
"Elena."
"Why now?"
"Because Richard contacted me."
"Everybody seems popular with Richard lately."
Nathan sighed.
"He thinks Daniel is going to expose the old accounting fraud."
"He is."
"Then you need the original ledger."
"Where?"
"I have it."
Daniel leaned toward the phone.
"Nathan, this is Daniel."
Silence.
"Whitmore."
"Where are you?"
"New Jersey."
"Bring it."
"I don't trust you."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"You don't have to. Trust Elena."
Nathan agreed to meet that evening.
By then, Daniel's attorney had filed preliminary documents establishing paternity.
He also arranged a legitimate DNA test.
"Another one?" Lily complained.
"This one involves permission," I said pointedly.
Daniel winced.
Lily didn't understand.
Good.
The results would take time, but none of us needed them emotionally.
Daniel was her father.
The paperwork simply needed to catch up.
That afternoon, he took Lily to a bookstore with me.
She selected six books.
I put four back.
Daniel quietly returned them to the basket.
I removed them again.
He stared at me.
"No buying affection."
"Books don't count."
"They absolutely count."
"That's unreasonable."
Lily whispered, "I agree with Dad."
"Both of you are impossible."
Daniel smiled.
And there it was again.
That old rhythm.
The one I'd spent seven years forgetting.
That evening, Nathan arrived.
He looked older, thinner.
He gave me a brief hug.
Daniel watched.
I noticed.
"Don't," I said.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Your eyebrow is doing something."
Nathan laughed.
"Some things never change."
Daniel didn't.
We went upstairs.
Nathan opened a leather folder.
Inside were financial records proving Richard had diverted company funds through shell entities.
Millions.
Enough to explain everything.
"He needed the divorce finalized before Daniel discovered the missing money," Nathan said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because one shell company was technically attached to a property included in your marital asset disclosures. If you'd reviewed the transaction during the acquisition, you might have found it."
I stared.
"So I wasn't collateral damage."
"No."
Nathan shook his head.
"You were a target."
Daniel went silent.
Nathan continued.
"Richard studied your marriage. He knew Daniel was getting emotionally close to Sophia. He exploited it."
Daniel looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
"Later."
Nathan nodded toward the documents.
"This can prove fraud."
Daniel's attorney collected them.
For the first time, the corporate mystery had an ending in sight.
But the personal damage didn't.
That night, Daniel walked us to our suite.
Lily hugged him.
"Are you coming tomorrow?"
"If your mom says yes."
She looked at me.
"Mom?"
"Yes."
Daniel smiled.
"Then yes."
Lily disappeared into the bedroom.
Daniel remained at the door.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Letting me have today."
"You don't have to thank me every time."
"I probably will for a while."
I leaned against the doorframe.
"Daniel."
"Yeah?"
"Why didn't you have children with Sophia?"
He looked surprised.
"We tried."
I hadn't expected that.
"For years."
"I'm sorry."
"She had two miscarriages."
My anger toward Sophia suddenly became more complicated.
"Daniel..."
"It destroyed something between us. Not because of the losses. Because neither of us knew how to grieve together."
I understood that.
Pain didn't always unite people.
Sometimes it exposed every distance they'd ignored.
"She wanted to keep trying. Eventually I didn't."
"Why?"
He looked at Lily's closed bedroom door.
"I think some part of me believed I didn't deserve to be a father."
I said nothing.
He smiled sadly.
"Turns out I already was one."
He left.
I closed the door.
At midnight, someone knocked.
I checked the peephole.
Daniel.
I opened it.
"What happened?"
His expression was strange.
"Richard confessed."
"To everything?"
"Most of it."
"That's good."
"There's more."
Of course there was.
"He told the investigators he sent the anonymous messages."
"All of them?"
"No."
My stomach tightened.
"The photograph of your letter wasn't from him."
"Then who?"
"He doesn't know."
Daniel handed me his phone.
Security footage from the hotel.
A figure stood outside our suite the previous night.
A woman.
Dark coat.
Baseball cap.
She placed something beneath the door.
Then she looked directly toward the camera.
I recognized her.
Sophia.
"Why would she keep sending evidence against herself?"
Daniel whispered, "I don't think she was."
He enlarged the image.
Sophia wasn't leaving something.
She was picking something up.
An envelope.
Someone had slid it under my door.
Before she reached it.
"She intercepted another message," I said.
Daniel nodded.
"She claims she was trying to protect us."
"From what?"
"She finally gave me the envelope."
He reached into his coat.
My name was written across the front.
Inside was one page.
No signature.
Only an address and a sentence.
ELENA CARTER SHOULD ASK HER MOTHER WHY DANIEL WAS NEVER TOLD.
My blood turned cold.
"No."
"Elena."
"My mother wanted me to call you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Then I remembered the day Lily was born.
My mother had stood beside my hospital bed.
I'd been exhausted.
Terrified.
She'd said something I'd forgotten until now.
He doesn't deserve to know what he lost.
At the time, I thought it was anger.
Now I wasn't sure.
I called her.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then my phone rang.
Mom.
I answered.
"Mom?"
She was crying.
"Elena, I'm sorry."
My heart stopped.
"What did you do?"
"I thought I was protecting you."
"From what?"
"From going back to him."
Daniel stared at me.
"What did you do with my calls?"
Silence.
"Mom."
"I changed your number."
"I knew that."
"No."
Her voice broke.
"I changed it before you asked me to."
I couldn't breathe.
"What?"
"Daniel called."
Daniel's face changed.
My mother whispered:
"He called the week Lily was born."
I looked at him.
Daniel shook his head.
"I never—"
Then he stopped.
His eyes widened.
"I did."
"What?"
"I called your old number."
My mother began sobbing.
"And I answered."
The hallway seemed to tilt.
"What did he say?"
May you like
My mother's next words destroyed the last version of the past I thought I understood.
"He said he wanted you back."
