Chapter 8 - The Man Who Was Supposed To Be My Father
The nurse's words stayed in the air.
"Mr. Carter, there is someone downstairs claiming to be your real father."
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
I looked at my father.
The man standing beside Emily's bed.
The man I had spent twelve years mourning.
He looked like he had just been hit.
Not because someone was pretending to be him.
Because he knew exactly who was waiting downstairs.
"You know him."
My voice was quiet.
My father didn't answer.
That hurt more than any lie.
I turned toward Michael.
"You know him too."
Michael closed his eyes.
"Daniel..."
"No."
I stepped away.
"No more."
My chest felt heavy.
"Every person in this room has known something about my life that I didn't."
I looked at Emily.
"I spent ninety-three days believing you betrayed me."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I spent twelve years believing my father was dead."
Then I looked at Michael.
"And you spent years deciding what I was allowed to know."
Nobody argued.
Because they couldn't.
The truth was standing in front of us.
I walked toward the door.
My father grabbed my arm.
"Daniel."
I stopped.
His hand was shaking.
"I need you to understand something."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"I am your father."
The sentence should have comforted me.
Instead, it made me angry.
"Then why did you let me bury you?"
His face collapsed.
Because he had no answer.
"I thought I was protecting you."
I pulled my arm away.
"Everyone says that."
I opened the door.
"I'm going to meet him."
Michael immediately stepped forward.
"No."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
His silence answered before his words did.
"Because if he is here..."
He stopped.
"Because if he is here, everything changes."
I stared at him.
"Everything already changed."
I walked into the hallway.
The hospital was strangely quiet.
Doctors moved quickly.
Machines beeped.
People lived normal moments around me.
But my entire life had become something I no longer recognized.
The elevator doors opened.
I pressed the button for the lobby.
Emily called my name.
I turned around.
She was sitting up.
Weak.
Afraid.
But looking at me like she was terrified I would disappear again.
"Daniel."
I waited.
She swallowed.
"Please come back."
Those three words almost broke me.
Because they were the same words I wanted to hear three months ago.
The same words I waited for.
But now there were too many secrets between us.
"I'll come back."
I paused.
"But I need the truth first."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I know."
The elevator doors closed.
And for the first time in years...
I went looking for answers.
Not from Michael.
Not from my father.
From someone who supposedly shared my blood.
When I reached the lobby, I saw him immediately.
A man standing near the entrance.
Older than my father.
Taller.
Wearing a dark coat.
His hands rested calmly in front of him.
Like he had been waiting.
He looked at me.
And smiled.
"Daniel Carter."
I stopped.
"Who are you?"
The man studied my face.
Like he was comparing me to a memory.
"My name is Richard Carter."
My heart stopped.
The last name.
Again.
Another Carter.
He stepped closer.
"I'm your biological father."
I stared at him.
"No."
His expression didn't change.
"I know this is difficult."
"You have no idea."
He reached into his coat.
I immediately stepped back.
But he only pulled out an old photograph.
He handed it to me.
My hands trembled when I saw it.
It was a picture of a baby.
A newborn.
A hospital bracelet around his tiny wrist.
The name written on it was mine.
Daniel Carter.
I looked at him.
"What is this?"
Richard looked toward the elevator.
"Your father told you he protected you."
I tightened my grip on the photo.
"He lied."
My heart raced.
"How do you know?"
Richard looked at me.
"Because I was there the night they took you."
The hallway seemed to disappear.
"What?"
He lowered his voice.
"Your father didn't lose a son."
I stared.
"He stole one."
The words hit like a punch.
I wanted to reject them.
I wanted to call him insane.
But something stopped me.
Because somewhere deep inside...
I remembered.
A memory from childhood.
A conversation I wasn't supposed to remember.
My mother crying.
My father shouting.
A suitcase.
A stranger.
And a sentence.
"Nobody can ever know."
I looked at Richard.
"What happened?"
He looked at the security cameras above us.
Then at the people walking through the lobby.
"Not here."
I almost laughed.
"Again?"
Everyone always said the same thing.
Not here.
Not now.
Not yet.
He handed me another envelope.
"This contains proof."
I didn't open it.
"What proof?"
"Your birth records."
I frowned.
"I have birth records."
"No."
He shook his head.
"You have the records they created."
My fingers tightened around the envelope.
"Created?"
Richard looked at me.
"Daniel, your entire identity was changed."
The world went silent.
"Why?"
"Because your real family was dangerous."
I stared.
"My real family?"
He nodded.
"Your mother knew."
My heart stopped.
"My mother?"
"She tried to take you away."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Where is she?"
Richard looked down.
And for the first time...
He looked sad.
"Your mother didn't disappear."
I waited.
"She was forced to disappear."
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
"What are you saying?"
Richard looked toward the hospital elevators.
"She has been alive this entire time."
My breath caught.
No.
That was impossible.
Another impossible thing.
Another dead person returning.
Another piece of my life being rewritten.
"Where is she?"
Richard opened his mouth.
But before he answered...
A loud alarm suddenly echoed through the hospital.
People started running.
A nurse shouted from the hallway.
"Security breach on the eighth floor!"
My blood went cold.
Emily.
I turned toward the elevator.
Richard grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't go up there."
I looked at him.
"What?"
His face had changed.
The calm was gone.
The fear was back.
"He's not here for you."
My heart raced.
"Who?"
Richard looked toward the elevator doors.
"He came for the baby."
The elevator arrived.
The doors opened.
Inside was nobody.
Except for a small envelope lying on the floor.
My name was written on it.
Daniel.
I picked it up.
Richard whispered:
"Don't open that."
But it was already too late.
Because the envelope had one sentence written across the front.
May you like
A sentence that made my hands freeze.
"Your child is not the only survivor."
