Chapter 4: The Daughter He Buried
The phone kept ringing.
One shrill note after another echoed through the archive, bouncing off steel cabinets and concrete walls.
I stood frozen over the photograph.
*Your sister.*
The words didn't make sense.
My father had another daughter.
Meline had known her.
Elena had known her.
And somehow, everyone had decided I was the one person who couldn't be trusted with the truth.
"Damen.""
Bernard's voice came from behind me.
I turned.
"Open the door.""
He was already working the electronic lock.
"It's been overridden.""
"Then override it again.""
"I can't.""
"Try.""
"I am trying.""
His fingers flew across the keypad.
Nothing.
I looked back at the photograph.
Meline was younger.
Maybe nineteen.
She looked terrified.
My father stood beside her with one hand resting protectively on the baby's blanket.
I picked up the photograph and turned it over.
There was another line beneath my father's handwriting.
*The child must never enter the Vance family.*
My stomach twisted.
"Bernard.""
He looked over.
"Yes?""
"Why would my father hide his own daughter?""
"I don't know.""
"You said you found this archive tonight.""
"I did.""
"And you never saw these photographs before?""
"No.""
"Then how did Elena know about it?""
Bernard didn't answer.
I stared at him.
"You knew she was coming.""
His face changed.
"Not tonight.""
"Then when?""
He looked down.
"Three weeks ago.""
My blood went cold.
"You've been meeting Elena for three weeks?""
"No.""
"Don't lie to me.""
"I'm not.""
"Then explain.""
Bernard swallowed.
"She contacted me after your father’s memorial.""
I stepped toward him.
"What did she want?""
"Information.""
"About Meline?""
"About the trust.""
"Why?""
"Because she believed your father had hidden something from her family.""
I laughed bitterly.
"She was right.""
Bernard lowered his voice.
"She wasn't looking for the company.""
I stopped.
"What?""
"She was looking for the girl.""
The phone stopped ringing.
Silence swallowed the room.
Then it rang again.
I looked toward the desk.
The sound was coming from beneath a stack of folders.
I pulled them aside.
An old black telephone sat underneath.
There was no cord.
No visible connection.
Yet it was ringing.
I picked it up.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice whispered.
"Damen?""
I froze.
I knew that voice.
Not from the video.
Not from the hospital.
From childhood.
It was the voice of my father's sister, Aunt Vivian.
But Vivian had been dead for six years.
"Who is this?""
"Damen, listen carefully.""
My grip tightened around the receiver.
"How do you know my name?""
"Because your father told me you'd eventually find the archive.""
Bernard stared at me.
"Where are you?""
"That doesn't matter.""
"It matters to me.""
"No. What matters is that Elena gets nowhere near the child.""
I looked at the photograph.
"She's alive?""
A pause.
"Yes.""
"Where?""
"Safe.""
"Who is she?""
The woman breathed shakily.
"You've already met her.""
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"What does that mean?""
"Your father spent twenty-seven years making sure you never knew.""
"Twenty-seven?""
"Because he believed you'd destroy her.""
I clenched my jaw.
"My father thought I was dangerous?""
"He didn't fear your temper, Damen.""
Her voice softened.
"He feared your ambition.""
I looked at Bernard.
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Tell me who she is.""
"I can't.""
"Then tell me why Meline was protecting her.""
Another silence.
Then:
"Because Meline is her mother.""
The words hit me harder than any punch.
I dropped into the chair.
"No.""
"Damen—"
"No.""
My voice cracked.
"Meline was nineteen.""
"Yes.""
"And my father—"
"Was not the girl's father.""
I stared at the photograph again.
"Then who was?""
The woman didn't answer.
A noise came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Bernard grabbed my shoulder.
"We have to leave.""
"Not without the truth.""
"Damen, now.""
The steel door suddenly unlocked.
We both turned.
It opened slowly.
But Elena wasn't standing there.
A security officer collapsed through the doorway.
Blood covered his shirt.
Bernard dragged him inside.
"He's alive," Bernard whispered.
The officer's eyes fluttered.
"She... she's going upstairs.""
"Who?""
His mouth moved.
"Your wife.""
My heart stopped.
"Meline?""
The officer nodded weakly.
"She woke up.""
I ran.
The hospital was thirty minutes away.
I made it in fourteen.
When I reached Meline's room, two nurses were standing outside.
One of them looked at me.
"Mr. Vance, you can't go in.""
"Why?""
"Your wife asked us not to let anyone inside.""
I stared at her.
"She asked for me earlier.""
"She changed her mind.""
"Is she alone?""
The nurse hesitated.
"There's a woman with her.""
My blood went cold.
"Who?""
Before she could answer, the door opened.
Elena stepped out.
Her coat was gone.
Her expression was calm.
Almost gentle.
She looked at me and smiled.
"You're late.""
I lunged toward her.
Two nurses screamed.
Elena didn't move.
"You killed my father," I said.
Her smile disappeared.
"No.""
"You pushed Meline.""
"I did.""
"You lied to me.""
"Yes.""
I stared at her.
"Why?""
She leaned closer.
"Because you were never supposed to find out that the woman you married was hiding your sister.""
My breath caught.
"My sister isn't Meline's daughter.""
Elena's eyes hardened.
"You still don't understand.""
She reached into her pocket and handed me a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
It was a DNA test.
The name at the top was mine.
The second name was Meline's.
The result was unmistakable.
*Probability of paternity: 99.98%.*
My vision blurred.
Elena whispered:
"Your daughter isn't your sister.""
I looked toward Meline's hospital room.
"Then who is she?""
Elena smiled again.
"Ask your wife.""
She walked away.
I shoved open the hospital door.
Meline was sitting upright.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes immediately dropped to the DNA test in my hand.
She began to cry.
"Damen...""
I held up the paper.
"Tell me the truth.""
She closed her eyes.
"The baby is yours.""
I stared at her.
"Then why did Elena say she's my sister?""
Meline's lips trembled.
"Because...""
She looked toward the incubator.
"Your father wasn't talking about our baby.""
May you like
Her voice broke.
"He was talking about me.""
