Chapter 4 - The Child Mark Tried To Erase
I unfolded the paper with shaking hands.
For a few seconds, I couldn't understand what I was looking at.
The words blurred together.
The ink looked old.
The handwriting looked familiar.
But the name at the top made my entire body freeze.
Ethan Dawson.
I looked at Emily.
"Who is Ethan?"
She didn't answer immediately.
That scared me more than anything.
Because Emily had always been the person who spoke quickly when she was nervous.
But now she was silent.
Like she was preparing herself to reopen a wound that never healed.
"Emily."
My voice cracked.
"Who is Ethan?"
She looked down.
"Mark's son."
The room became completely silent.
I stared at her.
"No."
The word came out automatically.
"No, that can't be true."
Emily didn't look away.
"Before you, there was another family."
My fingers tightened around the paper.
I looked at the document again.
The date.
The signature.
Everything was real.
"Mark never told me he had a son."
"Because he didn't want you to know."
I felt sick.
Seven years of marriage.
Seven years of believing I knew the man I shared my life with.
And there was an entire part of him I had never seen.
"What happened to Ethan?"
Emily took a deep breath.
"He disappeared."
The word hit me.
Disappeared.
Not left.
Not moved away.
Disappeared.
"What does that mean?"
Emily looked toward Lily's hospital room.
"That's the same question I asked myself."
I stood up.
My emotions were changing too quickly.
Anger.
Confusion.
Fear.
"Tell me everything."
Emily nodded slowly.
"Mark was married before you."
I felt my chest tighten.
"I knew he was divorced."
"That's not what he told you."
My eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?"
Emily opened the envelope again.
Inside were several papers.
Photographs.
Records.
Old messages.
"I met Mark before you did."
I looked at her.
"You never told me that."
"I tried."
Her voice broke.
"But every time I got close, something happened."
"What kind of things?"
Emily looked at me.
"Threats."
I froze.
"From Mark?"
She nodded.
"He told me if I ruined his life, I would regret it."
My stomach turned.
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"I did."
"Then why didn't anyone help?"
Emily looked down.
"Because he was careful."
That sentence stayed in my mind.
Careful.
Not innocent.
Not misunderstood.
Careful.
"He knew exactly how to appear normal."
Emily continued.
"He was charming. Responsible. Calm. Everyone believed him."
I thought about all the times people praised Mark.
The perfect husband.
The hardworking father.
The man who always seemed in control.
I remembered how often I defended him.
How many times I told people:
"He's just strict."
"He means well."
"He loves Lily."
My own words suddenly felt like lies.
"Tell me about Ethan."
Emily looked at the paper.
"Ethan was twelve when things started changing."
"What things?"
"Mark began controlling everything."
My heart sank.
"Like Lily?"
Emily nodded.
"Exactly like Lily."
I closed my eyes.
Because suddenly I saw the pattern.
The punishments.
The fear.
The way Lily apologized for things she didn't do.
"He told Ethan mistakes showed weakness."
Emily's voice became quieter.
"He said children needed to be broken before they could be shaped."
I felt a wave of anger.
"He said that?"
"Yes."
"About his own son?"
Emily nodded.
"Especially his own son."
I looked at Lily sleeping.
My daughter.
My little girl.
The thought of Mark seeing her as something to control made me feel sick.
"What happened the night Ethan disappeared?"
Emily hesitated.
"That night started with something small."
I waited.
"He broke a picture frame."
My blood ran cold.
"A picture frame?"
Emily nodded.
"Just like Lily broke the glass."
The room seemed to spin.
"Same excuse."
"Yes."
Emily pulled out another document.
"This is what I found later."
I looked at the paper.
It was a report.
An old police report.
My eyes moved across the page.
Missing child.
Ethan Dawson.
Age twelve.
Last seen at home.
My breathing became uneven.
"Why was this hidden?"
Emily looked at me.
"Because Mark convinced everyone Ethan ran away."
"And you don't believe that?"
"No."
Her answer was immediate.
"Because I saw Mark that night."
I looked at her.
"What did you see?"
Emily's face changed.
Fear returned.
"The way he looked after Ethan disappeared."
I waited.
"He wasn't scared."
My skin turned cold.
"He was relieved."
Detective Harper returned a few minutes later.
She immediately noticed our expressions.
"What happened?"
I handed her the document.
She read it.
Then looked at Emily.
"Is this real?"
Emily nodded.
"I kept copies because I knew someday someone would need them."
Detective Harper looked at me.
"Mrs. Carter, we need to ask you something."
I already knew I wouldn't like the answer.
"What?"
"Did your husband ever talk about having another child?"
"No."
"Did he ever mention Ethan Dawson?"
"No."
Detective Harper closed the folder.
"Then we need to understand why your husband was hiding this."
I looked toward Lily.
"Because he didn't want anyone seeing who he really was."
Nobody spoke.
Then Detective Harper's phone rang.
She answered.
At first, her expression was neutral.
Then it changed.
"What?"
She walked away.
Emily watched her carefully.
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
But deep down, I knew.
Something else had been found.
Something connected to Mark.
A few minutes later, Detective Harper returned.
She looked directly at me.
"Your husband came to the station."
My heart stopped.
"Why?"
"He requested to speak with an attorney."
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because I couldn't believe him.
"He hurt our daughter, and he's worried about a lawyer?"
Detective Harper didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Then she added:
"He also brought something."
"What?"
"A box."
I frowned.
"What kind of box?"
"An old wooden box."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
Detective Harper looked at Emily.
"Because he said it belonged to Ethan."
Emily's face went pale.
"No."
"What?"
Emily stood up.
"No, he wouldn't still have that."
Detective Harper looked confused.
"What are you talking about?"
Emily stepped closer.
"Where is the box?"
"In evidence."
"Open it."
Detective Harper looked at her.
"Why?"
Emily whispered:
"Because if Mark kept that box..."
She stopped.
Her eyes filled with fear.
"If he kept that box, then he never told us the truth about what happened to Ethan."
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Lily was finally resting.
The doctors said she was improving.
But my mind was trapped somewhere else.
A twelve-year-old boy.
A missing child.
A hidden past.
A husband I no longer recognized.
At 2:13 in the morning, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I stared at the screen.
I almost ignored it.
Then another message appeared.
"I know what happened to Ethan."
My heart started racing.
Another message came immediately.
"Your husband is not the only person who lied to you."
I sat up.
My hands trembled.
Then the final message arrived.
It contained one picture.
A picture taken inside my house.
May you like
And in the background of that picture was someone who should not have been there...
A person everyone believed was gone.
