Chapter 2: The Woman in the Photograph
My father's eyes stayed on me.
For several seconds, he didn't blink.
The paper in his hand trembled so violently that the edges made a soft clicking sound against the counter.
I looked at Diane.
She seemed almost pleased.
"Tell me," I said.
Dad swallowed.
"Daniel...""
"Who is my real mother?""
Diane folded her arms.
"That's a good question.""
Dad shot her a warning look.
"Don't.""
She smiled.
"You've been hiding it for twelve years, Mark. I think your son deserves the truth.""
I looked back at my father.
"Twelve years?""
He closed his eyes.
That was when I knew.
Whatever was happening, Diane wasn't making it all up.
There was a secret.
A real one.
And my father had been carrying it since before I could remember.
"Dad," I whispered, "is the woman in that picture my mother?""
He opened his eyes.
"Yes.""
The word barely came out.
My chest tightened.
"Then where is she?""
He looked away.
"I don't know.""
Diane laughed softly.
"That's not what you told me.""
"Diane.""
"You told me she was dead.""
My father turned pale.
I stared at him.
"She's dead?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"I was told she was.""
"By who?""
He didn't answer.
"Dad!""
"I was told she died shortly after you were born!""
His voice cracked through the kitchen.
I froze.
Diane's expression sharpened.
"By whom, Mark?""
Dad looked at the photograph again.
"Her name was Elena.""
My heart was pounding.
"Elena what?""
He hesitated.
"Elena Hayes.""
Diane immediately looked away.
I noticed.
"You know her.""
She said nothing.
"Diane," Dad said.
Still nothing.
I stepped toward her.
"You know my mother.""
"I knew of her.""
"You said you didn't.""
"I said what I needed to say.""
Dad's head snapped toward her.
"What does that mean?""
Diane gave him a calm look.
"It means you don't remember everything.""
She picked up the photograph.
"The woman in this picture didn't disappear.""
Dad stared at her.
"Then where is she?""
Diane slid the photograph across the counter.
"Ask yourself why she was gone in the first place.""
I looked between them.
"You two know.""
Neither answered.
My hands started shaking.
"I deserve to know.""
Dad nodded slowly.
"You do.""
He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down.
For the first time that morning, he looked exhausted.
Not angry.
Not powerful.
Just tired.
"Dad?""
He gestured toward the chair beside him.
"Sit.""
I sat.
Diane remained standing.
Dad took a breath.
"When you were born, your mother and I were already having problems.""
"What kind of problems?""
"She wanted to leave.""
"Why?""
He stared at the table.
"Because she found out I had been lying to her.""
I frowned.
"About what?""
Before Dad could answer, Diane interrupted.
"About me.""
The room went silent.
I turned to her.
"What?""
Dad closed his eyes.
"Don't do this.""
"But he deserves the truth.""
Diane walked slowly around the island.
"Your father met me before your mother disappeared.""
My stomach dropped.
"You were cheating on her?""
Dad's face tightened.
"It wasn't that simple.""
Diane gave a bitter smile.
"It was exactly that simple.""
I looked at him.
"Did you cheat on my mom?""
He couldn't look at me.
That was answer enough.
I pushed my chair back.
"You lied to her.""
"I made mistakes.""
"You lied to me too.""
"I was trying to protect you.""
"From what?""
He finally looked up.
"The truth.""
I stood.
"Then tell me!""
My voice echoed through the house.
Diane's expression changed.
Dad stared at me for several seconds.
Then he said quietly, "Your mother found out about the affair.""
I felt sick.
"She left you?""
"She wanted to take you with her.""
"What happened?""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"I went to court.""
"Why?""
"Because I thought she wasn't stable.""
I stared at him.
"Wasn't stable?""
"I was angry.""
Diane stepped closer.
"And you won.""
Dad looked at her.
"That isn't what happened.""
"Isn't it?""
She turned toward me.
"Your father got custody.""
I shook my head.
"So my mother lost me?""
Dad stood.
"No. She disappeared before the custody hearing.""
Diane's eyes flicked toward him.
I noticed.
"You said she disappeared.""
"Yes.""
"Then why were you in court?""
Dad hesitated.
"Because we thought she might come back.""
I stared at him.
"Did she?""
"No.""
"Did you look for her?""
His silence hurt.
"Dad.""
"I did.""
"For how long?""
He lowered his head.
"A few months.""
I felt something inside me crack.
"Only a few months?""
"I hired someone.""
"For how long?""
He didn't answer.
Diane did.
"Three weeks.""
Dad glared at her.
She shrugged.
"He stopped looking after that.""
I stared at my father.
"Why?""
"Because I was told she had left the country.""
"Who told you?""
Dad looked at the envelope.
"Her lawyer.""
I felt a strange chill.
"Her lawyer had proof?""
"Yes.""
"Where is it?""
"I don't know.""
I looked at Diane.
Her expression was unreadable.
Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out another sheet of paper.
"This is why.""
She placed it on the counter.
Dad immediately stepped forward.
"Where did you get that?""
"My lawyer.""
He picked it up.
His eyes scanned the page.
Then stopped.
"What is this?""
Diane said nothing.
Dad read it again.
His hands began to shake.
I moved around the counter.
"What is it?""
Dad tried to hide the document.
I grabbed it.
He released it.
I read the heading.
*Emergency Medical Transfer Authorization.*
My eyes moved down the page.
Patient.
Elena Hayes.
Date.
Six months after I was born.
Hospital.
Riverside Medical Center.
Transferred to another facility.
Destination:
*Unknown.*
I looked up.
"She was alive.""
Dad didn't speak.
"She was alive six months after I was born.""
He nodded slowly.
"I didn't know.""
"You said she died.""
"I believed she had.""
Diane leaned against the counter.
"That's not even the worst part.""
Dad turned toward her.
"Stop.""
She reached inside the envelope.
"Then maybe I should show him this.""
She pulled out a second document.
I recognized my father's signature.
"What's that?""
He stared at it.
"I never signed that.""
Diane smiled.
"You did.""
Dad snatched the paper from her.
"No.""
"You signed it twelve years ago.""
He looked at the signature.
His face drained of color.
I leaned closer.
"What does it say?""
Dad tried to fold the paper.
I caught his wrist.
"Let me see.""
He hesitated.
Then released it.
I unfolded the document.
It was a parental authorization form.
My father's name was printed at the top.
Underneath was a sentence that made my stomach twist.
*I, Mark Carter, authorize Diane Carter to act as legal guardian for my son, Daniel Carter, in the event of my incapacity or absence.*
I looked at my father.
"Why would you sign this?""
"I was in the hospital.""
"When?""
"After the accident.""
"What accident?""
He didn't answer immediately.
Diane did.
"The accident that almost killed him.""
I frowned.
"What accident?""
Dad stared at me.
"You were there.""
My heart stopped.
"What?""
"When you were three.""
I shook my head.
"I don't remember.""
"You weren't supposed to.""
Diane smiled faintly.
"Because you hit your head.""
Dad's expression darkened.
"That's enough.""
"No," I said.
"It's not.""
I looked at him.
"I want everything.""
He nodded.
"You deserve it.""
Then Diane pulled one final item from the envelope.
A folded letter.
No name on the outside.
She held it between two fingers.
"This arrived yesterday.""
Dad stared at it.
"Where?""
"My mailbox.""
"Who sent it?""
Diane looked at me.
"I think you should ask your father.""
Dad didn't move.
I reached for the letter.
Before I could take it, he grabbed my hand.
"Don't.""
"Why?""
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Because whoever sent that letter knows where she is.""
My pulse raced.
"Who?""
Dad stared at the envelope.
Then at the photograph.
Then at me.
"I don't know.""
Diane's smile disappeared.
A sudden sound came from the front of the house.
Three knocks.
Slow.
Heavy.
Everyone froze.
Another knock.
Dad's face went white.
Diane stepped backward.
I looked at the front door.
"Who is that?""
Nobody answered.
Then a woman's voice came through the door.
Soft.
Shaking.
But unmistakably clear.
"Mark?""
My father stopped breathing.
Diane whispered, "No.""
The woman knocked again.
"I know you're in there.""
Dad's eyes filled with tears.
I stared at the door.
Then he said the one thing I never expected to hear.
May you like
"Daniel... don't let her see you.""
The door handle began to turn.
