Chapter 9
Agents surrounded my father.
He did not run.
That surprised me.
Thomas simply raised his hands and smiled.
“Counsel.”
One agent moved toward him.
“You can ask for counsel after we secure the scene.”
Dad looked at me.
“Find the file.”
Then they took him away.
I wanted to believe that was the end.
It wasn’t.
Catherine was transported to a hospital in Atlanta.
Sarah went too.
Daniel and Noah refused to leave her side.
Rebecca needed stitches.
Marcus spent six hours answering questions.
Victoria disappeared.
Not metaphorically.
One minute she was sitting beside me outside the hospital.
The next, her chair was empty.
Her phone was left behind.
I found a note beneath it.
I’m sorry.
That was all.
I stared at those two words until Daniel came into the hallway.
“Where’s Mom?”
I handed him the note.
He read it.
His jaw tightened.
“Of course.”
“Do you think Dad’s people took her?”
“No.”
He looked toward the elevator.
“She ran.”
“Why?”
“Because she knows what he meant by your file.”
I wanted to argue.
I couldn’t.
Sarah was released the next morning.
She had lost weight and had bruises on her wrists, but doctors said she would recover physically.
Emotionally was another story.
Noah refused to let her out of his sight.
If she walked to the bathroom, he waited outside the door.
If she closed her eyes, he shook her awake.
Daniel tried to reassure him.
Noah did not believe anyone anymore.
I understood.
Rebecca came to the hospital that afternoon.
Noah saw her.
His entire body stiffened.
Rebecca stopped twenty feet away.
“I won’t come closer.”
Daniel stood.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
“You already did.”
“Not to him.”
Noah pressed against Sarah.
Rebecca knelt in the hallway.
She did not ask him to approach.
“I hurt you.”
Noah stared at her.
“I was scared, and I made that your problem.”
He said nothing.
“I chained you outside.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
Daniel looked away.
Rebecca continued.
“There is no excuse.”
Noah whispered, “You slapped me.”
Rebecca began crying.
“Yes.”
“You said nobody wanted me.”
Her face crumpled.
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted you to stop trying to leave.”
“I wanted my mom.”
“I know.”
“You knew where she was?”
“No.”
“Did you help take her?”
“No.”
Noah looked at Daniel.
“Is she lying?”
Daniel paused.
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca accepted that.
She reached into her purse.
Sarah immediately tensed.
Rebecca froze.
“Just keys.”
She slowly placed them on the floor.
“My house.”
Daniel looked at her.
“What?”
“I signed it over to you this morning.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“No.”
“Sell it. Burn it. I don’t care.”
Her voice shook.
“Use the money for Noah.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You think property fixes this?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I don’t know what else to give.”
Noah looked at the keys.
Then at Rebecca.
“I don’t want your house.”
Rebecca smiled sadly.
“Neither do I.”
She stood.
“I’m turning myself in.”
I stared.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
Daniel looked surprised.
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.”
Rebecca looked at Noah.
“He deserves to know adults can admit when they do something wrong.”
Noah didn’t answer.
Rebecca walked away.
Two investigators met her near the elevators.
She went with them willingly.
Daniel sat down.
“I spent eleven years imagining coming home.”
He laughed bitterly.
“I pictured Mom hugging me. Rebecca yelling because I hadn’t called. You crying.”
“I did cry.”
He smiled faintly.
“I got one thing right.”
I sat beside him.
“Do you regret coming back?”
He looked through the glass at Sarah and Noah.
“No.”
Then his smile disappeared.
“I regret not coming sooner.”
“Mom threatened you.”
“I was twenty-two.”
“You were scared.”
“I left you.”
“You came back.”
He looked at me.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Make room for people.”
I frowned.
“Is that bad?”
“No.”
His eyes filled.
“I think it’s why Sarah trusted you.”
An investigator approached.
“Emily Carter?”
I stood.
“My married name is Walker.”
“Sorry. We have something for you.”
He handed me a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a key.
“Where did this come from?”
“Recovered from Thomas Carter.”
A small metal tag was attached.
A number.
214.
“What does it open?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why give it to me?”
“There was a note in his wallet instructing that if he was detained, this key should be delivered to you.”
Daniel stood.
“That sounds like manipulation.”
The investigator nodded.
“It probably is.”
“Then why give it to her?”
“Because the key itself isn’t illegal evidence to withhold, and Mr. Carter’s attorney requested compliance with the written instruction.”
I stared at the number.
214.
A memory flickered.
Hotel room.
I saw red carpet.
A brass number.
214.
Then it vanished.
“Emily?”
Daniel touched my arm.
“What?”
“You went pale.”
“I remember that number.”
“From where?”
“I don’t know.”
That was the truth.
But my body knew something my mind didn’t.
We left the hospital after Catherine stabilized.
Marcus was waiting outside.
He wore a sling.
“You look terrible,” I said.
“So do you.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Marcus looked at the key.
“Two-fourteen.”
“You recognize it?”
“No.”
I studied him.
“You hesitated.”
“I was thinking.”
“About?”
“Thomas likes private storage.”
“What kind?”
“Safe-deposit boxes. Storage units. Hotel rooms.”
My stomach tightened.
“Hotel.”
“What?”
“I keep seeing a hotel door.”
Marcus became serious.
“What hotel?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel said, “Childhood memory?”
“Maybe.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Did Victoria ever take you on trips alone?”
“I don’t remember.”
Daniel laughed softly.
“Mom took Emily everywhere.”
I looked at him.
“She did?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“When you were little, before Dad died, you and Mom disappeared sometimes.”
“How long?”
“Weekends.”
“Where?”
“She always said you were visiting her friend.”
I looked at Marcus.
“Did Victoria have friends outside Atlanta?”
“Plenty.”
“Any hotels?”
He thought.
Then stopped.
“Thomas owned one.”
“Where?”
“Savannah.”
“What was it called?”
“The Bellweather.”
The name hit me.
A hallway.
Red carpet.
Brass numbers.
A woman crying.
Room 214.
I grabbed the wall.
“Emily?”
I closed my eyes.
The memory sharpened.
I was small.
Maybe five.
Victoria held my hand.
She was arguing with someone behind a door.
A woman said, “You promised she would never know.”
Victoria answered, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Then a man opened the door.
Dad.
Alive.
But this would have been before his supposed death.
He crouched in front of me.
He gave me a piece of candy.
“Sweetheart, remember our game?”
I heard my own little voice.
“Daddy is Uncle Tom.”
I opened my eyes.
Daniel stared.
“What happened?”
“I met Dad before he died.”
“Of course you did.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I mean secretly.”
Marcus went pale.
“What do you remember?”
“He told me to call him Uncle Tom.”
Marcus swore.
Daniel looked confused.
“Why?”
I looked at him.
“Because Mom was already hiding that he was my father.”
Marcus said, “The Bellweather closed fifteen years ago.”
“Does the building still exist?”
“Yes.”
“Who owns it?”
He took out his phone.
“No signal issue here.”
After a few minutes, his face tightened.
“Thomas.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Marcus looked closer.
“Actually, one of his companies.”
“What is it now?”
“Storage and offices.”
I looked at the key.
“Room 214.”
Daniel shook his head.
“We should tell investigators.”
“We will.”
“Before going.”
I stared at him.
He knew me too well already.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Marcus sighed.
“I’m apparently the irresponsible uncle, so I’m coming too.”
We called the lead investigator.
He told us not to enter the building.
We agreed.
Then we drove to Savannah anyway.
Not because we planned to ignore him.
Because I needed to see the place.
The Bellweather sat six blocks from the river.
The old sign was gone.
The windows were dark.
A chain-link fence surrounded the parking lot.
Federal agents met us there forty minutes later.
The lead investigator looked annoyed.
“You couldn’t wait in Atlanta?”
“No.”
“At least you called.”
He held out his hand.
“The key.”
I gave it to him.
Agents entered first.
We waited outside.
Twenty minutes later, one returned.
“There’s a room 214.”
My heart pounded.
“What’s inside?”
“Office door. Key fits.”
“And?”
He looked at me strangely.
“You should probably see this.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“She doesn’t go alone.”
The agent nodded.
“You can both come.”
Marcus followed.
Room 214 looked like it had not been touched in years.
Dust covered the furniture.
Boxes lined one wall.
Photographs covered another.
All of me.
Baby pictures.
School pictures.
Photos taken through windows.
Medical records.
Report cards.
Letters.
Every stage of my life.
I felt violated.
Daniel opened a box.
“Emily.”
Inside were videotapes.
Each labeled by year.
The earliest date was the year I was born.
The investigator stopped us from touching them.
Then Marcus found a metal cabinet.
Locked.
The key opened that too.
Inside was one file.
EMILY HALE.
Not Carter.
Not Walker.
Hale.
My mother’s original surname.
The investigator opened it wearing gloves.
The first page was a birth certificate.
Victoria Hale listed as my mother.
Father blank.
The second page was an adoption petition.
It named Catherine and Thomas Carter as prospective adoptive parents.
I stared.
“They were adopting me?”
Daniel whispered, “Catherine knew?”
The petition was dated when I was three months old.
Then there was a withdrawal form.
Signed by Catherine.
Reason:
Fraud discovered regarding paternity.
I felt sick.
More documents followed.
Custody disputes.
Private agreements.
Then a photograph slipped free.
It showed Victoria holding me outside the Bellweather.
On the back was handwriting.
Thomas gets Emily every second weekend.
Catherine never finds out.
Daniel stared at it.
“Mom let Dad have secret visitation?”
Marcus said nothing.
I turned to him.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I knew Thomas kept seeing Victoria.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
He looked ashamed.
“I didn’t know about you.”
The investigator pulled one final envelope from the file.
It had never been opened.
Written across the front:
FOR EMILY, WHEN SHE IS OLD ENOUGH.
The handwriting was Catherine’s.
My hands began shaking.
The investigator looked at me.
“We need to log it.”
“Can I read it?”
“After it’s documented.”
He photographed the envelope.
Then carefully opened it.
Inside were four pages.
He handed me copies.
Daniel stood beside me.
I began to read.
Emily,
If Victoria ever gives you this, then she finally did one brave thing without being forced.
You are not responsible for how you came into this family.
I loved you before I knew who your father was.
I loved you after I learned.
Thomas will tell you that I tried to take you from your real mother.
That is not true.
Victoria asked me to adopt you because she was afraid of him.
Then she changed her mind.
Not because she wanted you back.
Because Thomas threatened her.
My breathing stopped.
Daniel took the page.
“Keep reading.”
I did.
There is one thing you must know.
Thomas did not begin poisoning me because I wanted to leave.
He began after I found out what happened to his first wife.
I stared at Daniel.
“First wife?”
Marcus swore.
“I never knew.”
The next line made my blood run cold.
Her name was Elizabeth.
She had a daughter.
Thomas told everyone both died in a boating accident.
Elizabeth died.
The child did not.
I turned the page.
May you like
There was one sentence.
That child was Victoria.
