Chapter 7: The Man Who Died Twice
“Don't let him show her the other photograph!””
Diane's scream tore through the house.
The two officers in the living room immediately turned toward the kitchen. Ryan stood frozen beside me, clutching the photograph so tightly that its edges bent beneath his fingers.
I stared at him.
“Your father died four years before Claire gave birth?””
Ryan nodded slowly.
“That's what I've always been told.””
“By whom?””
His eyes moved toward the living room.
“Mom.””
A strange silence settled between us.
I thought about the locked cabinet, the prescriptions, the missing documents, and the woman who had spent five years convincing her son that his first wife was dead.
Every secret seemed to lead back to Diane.
But this one was different.
If Ryan's father had been dead for years, how could he have signed a document concerning Claire's newborn daughter?
And why was Diane so desperate to keep me from seeing another photograph?
One of the officers approached us.
“Mr. Carter, please hand me the photograph.””
Ryan hesitated.
“It's evidence.””
“Exactly. We'll document it.””
Ryan passed it over.
The officer examined the front, then turned it over.
“Where did you get this?””
“Inside the cabinet. It was hidden behind the lower shelf.””
“Was it inside the metal box you mentioned?””
“No. The box is missing.””
The officer placed the photograph inside a protective sleeve.
“Do you know the man pictured here?””
Ryan stared at the image.
“My father was named Robert Carter. He died when I was twenty-four.””
“How did he die?””
“A heart attack. That's what the death certificate says.””
The officer looked at him carefully.
“And you never saw his body?””
Ryan's face changed.
I remembered what he'd told me about Claire.
He hadn't seen her body either.
Two people he'd believed dead.
Two deaths arranged by someone else.
Ryan swallowed.
“No. My mother handled the funeral.””
The officer wrote something in his notebook.
“Mr. Carter, I need you to understand that we're going to verify these records. Please don't contact anyone about the photographs or the documents until we've finished examining them.””
Diane appeared in the doorway.
“This is absurd. Robert is dead. Everyone knows that.””
The officer turned toward her.
“Then the records will confirm it.””
She stepped into the kitchen, her voice sharpening.
“You're wasting your time investigating a family that has already suffered enough.””
I held up the discharge paper.
“Then why does this document carry a signature that appears to belong to a dead man?””
Diane looked at it.
For a fraction of a second, her face betrayed her.
Then she reached for the paper.
Ryan moved between us.
“Don't touch it, Mom.””
She stared at him as if he'd slapped her.
“You're choosing her over your own mother?””
Ryan's voice shook.
“I'm choosing to find out what happened to my daughter.””
Diane went completely still.
I watched her eyes narrow.
“Your daughter?””
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“Claire's baby. The child you told me had died.””
Diane laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“You were grieving. You weren't thinking clearly. I did what I had to do.””
“What did you do?””
She turned toward me.
“You have no idea what Claire was like after childbirth. She was unstable. She couldn't care for herself, let alone a baby.””
“Then why didn't you let the doctors decide?”” I asked.
“Because I knew what was best!””
Her voice echoed through the kitchen.
One officer stepped closer.
“Ma'am, I need you to lower your voice.””
Diane ignored him.
“Ryan was barely functioning. Claire was in and out of treatment. Robert was handling the family finances, and everyone expected me to clean up the mess. Do you have any idea what that was like?””
Ryan stared at her.
“Robert was dead.””
Diane's mouth closed.
He took a step toward her.
“You told me he died four years before Claire gave birth. You told me you watched them bury him.””
She said nothing.
“Mom, look at me.””
Slowly, she raised her eyes.
“Was my father alive when Claire gave birth?””
Diane's lips trembled.
Then she whispered, “You weren't supposed to find out this way.””
My stomach turned.
Ryan gripped the edge of the counter.
“So he was alive.””
Diane shook her head.
“It's complicated.””
“No. It's a yes-or-no question.””
She looked toward the officers.
“I want a lawyer.””
The older officer nodded.
“You're entitled to seek legal counsel. We still need to establish the circumstances surrounding your granddaughter's possible medication exposure.””
Diane turned to Ryan one last time.
“You think you're a good father because you married Emily and bought a house? You don't even know what your own family did to keep you safe.””
Ryan looked devastated.
“What does that mean?””
She didn't answer.
Instead, she walked toward the living room, accompanied by the officer.
I waited until they were gone before turning back to my husband.
“Ryan, you said your father died when you were twenty-four. How old were you when Claire gave birth?””
“Twenty-seven.””
“And you never questioned the dates?””
“I did. Mom told me the funeral records were correct and that I was confusing the years because I was grieving.””
I stared at him.
“You accepted that?””
He looked down.
“I wanted to believe her.””
I thought of Lily lying in a hospital bed, trusting us to protect her.
“Wanting something to be true doesn't make it true.””
Ryan nodded, tears gathering in his eyes.
“I know.””
His phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
*The man in the photograph is alive. Ask Diane where she kept the original birth certificate.*
Ryan showed me the message.
I immediately forwarded it to the officer.
Then I called Claire.
She answered on the first ring.
“Did you find something?”” she asked.
“Yes. A photograph of your baby. Ryan's father is in it.””
Claire went silent.
Then I heard her take a sharp breath.
“Robert?””
“You recognize him?””
“I saw him the night I gave birth. He was standing outside my hospital room with Diane.””
“Why would he be there?””
“I don't know. Ryan told me his father had died years earlier, but I remember Robert. He was holding a folder, and he kept telling Diane that the paperwork needed to be finished before morning.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What paperwork?””
“I couldn't see. I was exhausted, and they had given me medication. But I remember hearing him say that the child couldn't stay under my name.””
I closed my eyes.
“Claire, where is your daughter now?””
“She's with someone I trust. I won't tell you where until I'm sure it's safe.””
I understood.
Neither of us knew who to trust anymore.
“Can you come to the house?”” I asked.
“The police are here. We have the photograph and the discharge document.””
“I'll come.””
Before she ended the call, she added something else.
“Emily, there's one thing I never told Ryan.””
“What?””
“When I was recovering after the birth, I overheard Diane speaking to a nurse. She said the baby wasn't the only reason they needed me out of the way.””
I felt cold.
“What was the other reason?””
Claire hesitated.
“Money.””
The word hung between us.
Then she continued.
“Robert had been moving money through accounts in my name. I found the records before I gave birth. I think they were afraid I'd expose him.””
I looked at the broken cabinet.
The prescriptions.
The hidden papers.
The missing metal box.
Maybe the medicine wasn't the only thing Diane had used to keep people quiet.
“Claire,” I whispered, “what happened to Robert?””
“I don't know.””
Her voice broke.
“But if he's alive, Emily, then the man who supposedly died four years ago may be the only person who can explain why your husband was told to bury his own child.””
The call ended.
I turned toward Ryan.
He was staring at the photograph sleeve on the counter.
“Your father might still be alive,” I said.
Ryan shook his head.
“No.””
“Ryan—”
“I saw the death certificate.””
“Then someone needs to explain why his signature is on a document from five years ago.””
He looked at me.
For the first time, I saw something more frightening than guilt in his expression.
Hope.
The desperate hope that his father might still be alive.
Then the front doorbell rang.
One of the officers went to answer it.
A few seconds later, he called out.
“Mr. Carter? There's someone here asking for you.””
Ryan stepped into the hallway.
A man stood on the porch.
He wore a dark coat and carried a black leather briefcase. His hair was almost completely gray, but his posture was straight, and his eyes were fixed on Ryan.
Ryan stopped breathing.
The man smiled sadly.
“Hello, son.””
Ryan stumbled backward.
“Dad?””
The man stepped inside.
“I'm sorry it took so long.””
Then he looked at me.
“And you must be Emily.””
May you like
His smile disappeared.
“There's something you need to know about your daughter before Diane makes another attempt to silence this family.””
