Chapter 3 - The Photograph My Mother Hid
I read the message six times.
Mom.
My mother.
The woman I'd watched disappear behind a hospital curtain six years earlier.
The woman whose funeral I'd attended.
The woman whose birthday cards I kept beneath my bed.
Alive.
"No," I whispered.
Ethan reached for the phone.
I pulled it away.
"Don't."
"Harper, the photograph could be fake."
"It could be real."
"Yes."
That answer surprised me.
He wasn't trying to convince me.
Rebecca examined the photograph.
"Where was this taken?"
Behind Mom was a diner window.
A red neon sign reflected in the glass.
EAT.
Part of another word was hidden.
I zoomed in.
Ethan noticed something else.
"Her necklace."
Mom wore a small silver key.
I remembered it.
She used to tell me it opened something important.
After she died, I searched everywhere for it.
Never found it.
"That's hers."
Rebecca looked at me.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
The phone buzzed again.
COME ALONE.
A location appeared.
Lincoln Park.
Midnight.
Ethan immediately said, "No."
I looked at him.
"You don't get to decide."
"If Laura is alive—"
"If?"
He stopped.
"She's my mother."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
My voice cracked.
"You knew her. You knew Daniel. You knew about this apartment. You knew my name. Everyone knows my life except me."
Ethan lowered his eyes.
I hated that he looked guilty.
Because guilty adults usually had reasons for silence.
And reasons usually hurt.
I walked into my old bedroom.
Something about the height marks bothered me.
D — 6'1".
Mom hadn't measured random adults against my door.
I touched the D.
The wood moved.
A thin strip came loose.
Behind it was a tiny compartment.
Inside lay a folded photograph.
Mom.
Daniel.
And me.
I was a newborn.
Daniel held me.
He was smiling.
On the back, Mom had written three words.
Harper and Dad.
My knees gave out.
Rebecca caught me.
"No."
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.
Daniel Grant.
The missing billionaire heir.
The man who disappeared three weeks before I was born.
My father.
Ethan crouched in front of me.
"I'm sorry."
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You knew!"
"I didn't have proof."
"You had this apartment."
"Not this photograph."
"Did my mother tell you?"
"She told Evelyn."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because Daniel made us promise."
"He's dead?"
Ethan hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
"You don't know."
"No."
I laughed once.
It sounded terrible.
"So my mother might be alive. My father might be alive. And I've spent six years in foster care because everybody was protecting me?"
Rebecca's eyes filled.
"That's the part we can never justify."
"Good."
I wiped my face.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Tell me it was for my own good."
Neither of them did.
That mattered.
A little.
Behind us, the baby girl cried.
I picked her up.
She quieted against my hoodie.
Ethan watched.
"Her name is Hope."
I looked at him.
"The girl?"
He nodded.
"And him?"
"James."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't ask."
That was such a normal answer that I almost smiled.
Almost.
"Why were you behind the warehouse?"
Ethan looked at Rebecca.
Then at me.
"I received a message yesterday saying Daniel was alive."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"The message told me to bring the twins to the warehouse tonight."
"Why would you bring babies?"
"It said whoever had information about Daniel also knew where Hope and James lived."
His voice tightened.
"I wasn't leaving them somewhere unprotected."
"Where's their mother?"
Another silence.
"Ethan."
"Her name is Natalie. She disappeared two days ago."
I stared at the babies.
"So somebody took their mom?"
"We don't know."
"And you went alone?"
"I thought I could keep them safer that way."
"That was stupid."
Rebecca said, "Thank you."
Ethan glared at her.
I looked again at the message supposedly from Mom.
COME ALONE.
"Nobody goes alone," I said.
Ethan frowned.
"What?"
"If Mom sent this, she'll understand."
"And if she didn't?"
"Then I'm definitely not going alone."
At 11:52 p.m., we reached Lincoln Park.
Evelyn finally appeared in person.
She was in her fifties, silver beginning at her temples, calm eyes behind dark-framed glasses.
I recognized her voice immediately.
"You."
"Me."
"You knew my mother."
"She was my closest friend."
I didn't hug her.
She didn't try.
That made me trust her slightly more.
"Why did Mom leave me?"
Evelyn's expression broke.
"She didn't."
"Then where has she been?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No. I expect you to question everything tonight."
Midnight arrived.
A figure appeared near the empty pavilion.
Woman.
Dark coat.
Same height as Mom.
My heart slammed.
"Mom?"
She turned.
I ran.
Ethan shouted my name.
I didn't care.
The woman stepped into the light.
I stopped.
Not Mom.
Carol.
My foster guardian.
She looked terrified.
"Harper."
"Why are you here?"
"Because Laura told me to come."
I stared.
"You know my mother?"
Carol began crying.
"I knew her before you came to live with me."
Every adult in Chicago apparently knew my mother.
"Is she alive?"
Carol nodded.
"Where?"
"I don't know anymore."
"What does that mean?"
"She contacted me six months ago."
Six months.
I felt sick.
"Why didn't she come get me?"
"Because she believed someone was watching you."
"Who?"
Carol looked toward Ethan.
"His family."
Ethan stepped forward.
"My father is dead."
"Your father wasn't the only one."
Rebecca stiffened.
"Who else?"
Carol reached into her coat.
Ethan moved instinctively.
"It's just a letter," Carol said.
She handed it to me.
Mom's handwriting.
Harper,
If you're reading this, the protection failed.
There are things I wanted to tell you myself.
Daniel is your father.
He did not abandon you.
Neither did I.
What happened to us began with Charles Grant, but it did not end with him.
There is someone else.
Someone Ethan trusts.
I looked up.
Ethan's face had gone pale.
"Keep reading," Evelyn said.
The next sentence had been smeared by water.
Only five words remained clear.
The person protecting the twins...
The rest was gone.
Then headlights appeared behind us.
Rebecca turned.
A car stopped.
The rear door opened.
A woman stumbled out.
Ethan made a sound I had never heard from another human being.
"Natalie."
The twins' mother was alive.
But she wasn't alone.
Someone stepped out behind her.
A tall man.
He lifted his face toward the park lights.
Ethan froze.
Rebecca whispered, "That's impossible."
I looked at the old photograph still clutched in my hand.
Same eyes.
Same jaw.
Older now.
But unmistakable.
The stranger looked directly at me.
"Harper."
May you like
My photograph slipped from my fingers.
My father had just stepped out of the car.
