Chapter 10 - The Woman in the Photograph
I stared at the photograph.
My father.
A woman beside him.
Not my mother.
Daniel took it.
“This doesn't make sense.”
My mother began shaking.
“It was before me.”
“Who is she?”
My mother didn't answer.
Charles looked at her.
“You know.”
She whispered:
“Her name was Rebecca.”
“Was?”
“She died.”
“When?”
“Twenty-seven years ago.”
Thomas looked at the photograph.
“That's impossible.”
My mother turned toward him.
“What?”
“Rebecca wasn't dead.”
My mother stared.
“She was.”
Thomas shook his head.
“I met her last year.”
The room went silent.
My mother sat down.
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
My heart pounded.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Thomas looked at me.
“Because I didn't know she was your father's wife.”
I looked at the photograph again.
There was something written in the corner.
A date.
The day before my birth.
Daniel noticed it too.
“That's not possible.”
I looked at my mother.
“What happened that day?”
She whispered:
“Your father left.”
“Why?”
“Because he discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That the third child wasn't taken by your grandfather.”
I felt cold.
“Then who took her?”
My mother looked at Charlotte.
Charlotte whispered:
“Rebecca.”
Everyone turned.
“She took me.”
My mother stared.
“Why?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“She said she was protecting me.”
“From what?”
“From your grandfather.”
I sat down.
Everything was becoming more complicated.
My father had another wife.
She had taken Charlotte.
My mother had taken me.
Charles had been raised under another name.
And my grandfather had built a trust around a name.
But there was still one question.
“Why did Rebecca want Charlotte?”
Charlotte looked at me.
“Because she knew something about your father.”
“What?”
“That he wasn't the man everyone thought he was.”
My mother looked terrified.
Charlotte continued.
“He had evidence that your grandfather had been stealing from the family foundation.”
Thomas nodded.
“And Rebecca had the evidence.”
“Where?”
Charlotte looked at the photograph.
“She gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
She stared at me.
“You.”
I felt numb.
“Me?”
“You were a baby.”
“How could I have it?”
Charlotte pointed to the bracelet around my son's wrist.
I looked down.
A small silver charm hung from it.
It had been a gift from my father before he disappeared.
Charlotte whispered:
“That symbol.”
I touched it.
“What does it mean?”
“It opens a safety deposit box.”
My mother stood.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“Where?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Mom.”
“You cannot open it.”
“Why?”
“Because your father put everything inside.”
“What everything?”
She began crying.
“The proof.”
I felt my heart pounding.
Daniel took my hand.
“We're going.”
My mother grabbed my arm.
“Emily, listen.”
I turned.
“If you open that box, people will come after you.”
“People already came after my son.”
She froze.
“I won't stop.”
Charlotte stepped forward.
“I'll go with you.”
Charles nodded.
Thomas reached for his coat.
“So will I.”
Daniel looked at me.
“I won't let you go without me.”
For the first time, I felt something like strength.
Not because I wasn't afraid.
Because I wasn't alone.
We drove to Dayton.
The safety deposit box was in an old bank my father had used before his disappearance.
The manager brought out the box.
My hands trembled as I inserted the key.
The lid opened.
Inside was a stack of documents.
A flash drive.
A wedding ring.
And a sealed letter addressed to me.
I opened it.
The first sentence made my blood run cold.
Emily,
If you're reading this, your mother has finally told you about the children.
I stopped.
Daniel looked at me.
May you like
I read the next line.
But she still hasn't told you who your real father is...
