“RUN!”
Mom’s scream exploded through my phone.
Claire grabbed my hand.
The stranger smiled.
Then he lunged.
I didn’t wait to see what he wanted.
I shoved Claire toward the trail beside the picnic shelter and ran with her into the darkness.
“Michael!”
Branches slapped against my face.
Claire was barefoot, stumbling over rocks and roots, but adrenaline kept her moving.
Behind us, I heard footsteps.
Fast.
Too fast.
“Keep going!” I shouted.
“Where?”
“I don’t know!”
That was the terrifying part.
The lake was outside town, surrounded by woods, and the stranger’s truck had blocked my car.
We weren’t running toward safety.
We were just running away from him.
My phone was still in my hand.
“Mom!”
“I’m here!”
“Call the police!”
“Already did. Where are you?”
“Behind the lake. On the trail.”
“Don’t stop. Your father is coming.”
Then I heard something behind us.
“MICHAEL!”
The stranger’s voice carried through the trees.
Claire froze.
I yanked her forward.
“Don’t listen.”
But he shouted again.
“If you run, you’ll never know who your real mother is!”
I stopped.
Claire nearly crashed into me.
“Michael, no.”
My entire body went cold.
The stranger appeared between the trees about thirty yards behind us.
He wasn’t running anymore.
He knew he’d gotten my attention.
“That’s right,” he called.
“Ask Diane why there are no photographs of her pregnant with you.”
Claire pulled my arm.
“He’s trying to manipulate you.”
Maybe.
But the worst part was that I immediately thought about every family album I’d ever seen.
There were pictures of me as a newborn.
Pictures of Dad holding me.
Pictures of Mom rocking me.
But pregnancy pictures?
I couldn’t remember one.
Not a single one.
“Who are you?” I shouted.
The stranger took another step.
“My name is Daniel Mercer.”
Claire made a sound beside me.
Almost a gasp.
“You know that name?”
She stared at him.
“My mother was Evelyn Mercer.”
Daniel nodded.
“She was my sister.”
Claire’s knees nearly gave out.
“My uncle?”
“Biological uncle.”
Claire shook her head violently.
“No. Raymond was my uncle.”
“Raymond wasn’t related to you.”
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“He was supposed to protect you.”
“Mom said Raymond is dead,” I said.
“He is.”
“Then why did Claire grow up with a man calling himself Raymond?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Because that man wasn’t Raymond either.”
Silence.
Even the night seemed to hold still.
Claire whispered, “What?”
Daniel reached slowly into his coat again.
I stepped in front of her.
“Hands where I can see them.”
He stopped.
Then carefully pulled out a wallet.
From it, he removed a photograph and placed it on the ground.
“I’ll back away.”
He did.
I didn’t want to move toward him, but Claire suddenly did.
“Wait.”
She walked forward.
I stayed beside her.
The photograph showed three young adults standing beside a pickup truck.
Mom.
A younger man I recognized as the Raymond from her old photograph.
And a woman who looked exactly like the missing woman from the newspaper clipping.
Evelyn.
Claire’s mother.
On the back were three names.
Diane.
Raymond.
Evelyn.
Claire stared at it.
“Where are you?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Taking the picture.”
Claire looked up.
“If Evelyn was your sister, why didn’t you raise me?”
Daniel’s expression collapsed.
“Because I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“I was in prison.”
That answer didn’t exactly make me trust him more.
“For what?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Assault.”
Claire stepped backward.
“Great.”
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“That’s usually what people say.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I attacked the man who hurt your mother.”
Claire stopped.
“Who?”
Daniel’s eyes shifted toward me.
And suddenly I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Michael’s father.”
My breath disappeared.
“My dad?”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Tom isn’t your biological father.”
I laughed because the alternative was screaming.
“Of course he isn’t. Why not? Apparently nothing else tonight is real.”
“Michael,” Claire whispered.
But I couldn’t stop.
“My fiancée used to live in my childhood home. Her dead uncle apparently wasn’t her uncle. Her other uncle appears from the woods. My birth year might be fake. Now my dad isn’t my dad.”
Daniel looked almost sorry.
“You wanted the truth.”
“I want proof.”
He nodded toward the envelope still clenched in my hand.
“Open it.”
I had forgotten I was holding it.
My hands shook as I tore the envelope.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Not a copy.
An original.
I unfolded it.
Name: Michael Mercer.
Mother: Evelyn Mercer.
Father: Unlisted.
I stared at the paper until the letters blurred.
Then I looked at Claire.
She had already understood.
Her face turned white.
“No.”
I couldn’t speak.
Daniel closed his eyes.
Claire backed away from me.
“No. No, no, no.”
She covered her mouth.
I looked at Daniel.
“Tell me this is fake.”
“It isn’t.”
“Evelyn was Claire’s mother.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re saying she was mine too?”
“Yes.”
The world tilted.
Claire’s engagement ring was sitting back in her car.
Suddenly that ring felt like it belonged to a different lifetime.
Claire whispered the question neither of us wanted answered.
“Are Michael and I brother and sister?”
Daniel didn’t respond.
“ANSWER HER!”
“I don’t know.”
I charged toward him.
“You don’t KNOW?”
Daniel didn’t flinch.
“Evelyn gave birth to you six years before Claire. But Claire’s legal birth records were altered during the custody case. I never learned whether Evelyn was her biological mother or simply the woman listed as her mother.”
Claire stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Evelyn may have adopted you privately.”
“May have?”
“Your mother was hiding things from everyone.”
Police sirens sounded faintly in the distance.
Daniel looked toward the road.
Relief washed over me.
But his reaction was the opposite.
He looked terrified.
“We need to go.”
I laughed.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Someone has spent more than twenty years making sure none of you compare the records.”
The sirens grew louder.
“Who?”
He looked toward the approaching lights.
“Tom.”
I stepped forward.
“You keep my father out of this.”
“He’s the center of it.”
“You’re lying.”
“Ask him where Evelyn died.”
“She disappeared.”
“No.”
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“Evelyn died in your parents’ house.”
Claire gasped.
I stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“I was there.”
Before I could answer, headlights appeared through the trees.
A vehicle came racing down the access road.
Not police.
Dad’s truck.
It screeched to a stop near the trail.
Dad jumped out.
“MICHAEL!”
Daniel stepped backward.
Dad saw him.
And stopped dead.
I’ve known my father my entire life.
I’d seen him angry.
I’d seen him worried.
I’d seen him cry when Grandpa died.
But I’d never seen pure terror on his face.
Not until that moment.
“You,” Dad whispered.
Daniel stared back.
“Hello, Tom.”
Dad’s hands curled into fists.
“You stay away from my son.”
“Your son?”
Daniel almost laughed.
“Interesting choice of words.”
Dad rushed him.
I jumped between them.
“STOP!”
“Michael, move!”
“No!”
Dad stared at me.
I held up the birth certificate.
“Is this real?”
His face told me before his mouth did.
Dad’s anger disappeared.
“Son…”
“IS IT REAL?”
His shoulders dropped.
“Yes.”
Claire began crying behind me.
I could barely breathe.
“Evelyn Mercer was my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Was she Claire’s mother?”
Dad looked at Claire.
“I don’t know.”
“Everybody keeps saying that!”
“Because we truly don’t know.”
I stepped closer.
“Why did you tell me Mom gave birth to me?”
Dad’s eyes filled.
“Because Diane is your mother.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“We raised you.”
“That’s not what I asked!”
Dad flinched.
I had never screamed at him like that.
He looked suddenly old.
“Evelyn asked us to.”
“Why?”
Dad glanced at Daniel.
Daniel’s face hardened.
“Tell him.”
Dad shook his head.
“Not here.”
“Tell me!”
Dad swallowed.
“Because someone was trying to kill you.”
The anger drained out of me.
“What?”
“Evelyn came to us with you when you were six. She was terrified. She said someone had discovered where you were.”
“Who?”
“She wouldn’t tell us.”
Daniel scoffed.
“She told you.”
Dad snapped toward him.
“You don’t know what she told me.”
“I know what happened that night.”
Dad went pale.
Claire stepped between them.
“What happened to my mother?”
Dad looked at her.
His voice softened.
“Evelyn brought Michael here. She asked us to take him. She said she’d come back.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three nights later.”
Daniel interrupted.
“Bleeding.”
Dad closed his eyes.
My stomach twisted.
“What happened?”
“She’d been stabbed.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Dad continued.
“We tried to call an ambulance. Evelyn wouldn’t let us. She kept saying he’d find Michael if there was a police report.”
“Who was ‘he’?”
Dad stared at me.
“Your biological father.”
Silence.
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know his real name.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
Dad glared at him.
“You think this is funny?”
“No. I think you’ve had twenty-two years to stop lying.”
Dad took a step toward him.
Then Claire shouted.
“Enough!”
Everyone stopped.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
“I don’t care about your feud. I want to know who I am.”
Dad looked at her.
“Claire…”
“Was Evelyn my mother?”
Dad hesitated.
“She raised you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He looked away.
Claire’s voice cracked.
“Was she my biological mother?”
Dad finally whispered, “No.”
Claire froze.
I stared at him.
“Then who was?”
Dad’s eyes moved toward me.
“That’s what Evelyn was trying to tell us the night she died.”
My skin went cold.
“What did she say?”
“She said Claire’s real mother was still alive.”
Claire’s lips parted.
“Alive?”
“At least she was then.”
“Who?”
Before Dad could answer, blue and red lights flooded the trees.
Two sheriff’s vehicles pulled into the lot.
Officers stepped out.
“Hands where we can see them!”
Dad raised his hands.
So did Daniel.
I expected everything to finally calm down.
Instead, Daniel looked at me and whispered, “Watch your father.”
One deputy approached Dad.
The other went toward Daniel.
“Daniel Mercer?”
Daniel nodded.
The deputy immediately turned him around and cuffed him.
Claire stared.
“Why are you arresting him?”
“Outstanding warrant.”
Daniel didn’t resist.
But as they led him away, he looked at me.
“Michael!”
I stepped forward.
“What?”
“Ask Tom what’s under the nursery floor!”
Dad’s face went white.
The deputy shoved Daniel toward the patrol car.
“Keep moving.”
Daniel twisted around.
“THE NURSERY FLOOR, MICHAEL!”
Then the car door slammed.
I slowly turned toward Dad.
“What is he talking about?”
“Nothing.”
It came too quickly.
Dad knew it too.
“What’s under the nursery floor?”
“He’s trying to turn you against us.”
“Then look me in the eye and tell me there’s nothing there.”
Dad wouldn’t.
Claire stepped beside me.
“Michael.”
She was staring at Dad.
“He knows.”
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“Please. Both of you. Come home. We can talk there.”
That was exactly what we did.
The ride back was silent.
Claire sat beside me in Dad’s truck because neither of us wanted to separate.
Mom was waiting on the porch.
The moment she saw Claire, she ran down the steps and hugged her.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire stood stiffly.
“For what?”
Mom couldn’t answer.
We went inside.
Nobody sat down.
I pointed toward the staircase.
“Where’s the nursery?”
Mom’s face changed.
Dad sighed.
“Michael…”
“Where?”
Mom whispered, “Your old bedroom.”
I stared at her.
“My bedroom?”
“It was the nursery before it became yours.”
I headed upstairs.
Dad followed.
“Son, don’t.”
I opened my bedroom door.
Nothing had changed much since I was a teenager.
Same bookshelf.
Same closet.
Same hardwood floor.
Claire came in behind me.
“What are we looking for?”
I didn’t know.
Then I noticed something.
One floorboard near the old radiator was a slightly different shade.
I knelt.
Dad stood in the doorway.
“Michael.”
I wedged my fingers beneath the edge.
“Please.”
The board lifted.
Mom started crying downstairs.
Underneath was a narrow cavity.
Inside sat a plastic-wrapped package.
Claire crouched beside me.
I pulled it out.
There were three things inside.
A cassette tape.
A hospital bracelet.
And a sealed letter.
The bracelet was tiny.
For a newborn.
I turned it over.
The name printed across it made Claire gasp.
BABY GIRL CALDWELL.
Claire looked toward Dad.
“Caldwell?”
Our last name.
Dad lowered his head.
My hands started shaking.
I opened the letter.
The first line nearly stopped my heart.
Diane and Tom,
If Claire ever comes back to this house, tell her the truth.
Claire grabbed my shoulder.
“Keep reading.”
I did.
Her real mother deserves the chance to explain why she gave her away.
Claire whispered, “Who?”
I read the next sentence.
Then I couldn’t continue.
“What does it say?” Claire asked.
I looked toward the hallway.
Mom was standing there now.
Her face was soaked with tears.
I handed Claire the letter.
She read it.
Her entire body went still.
Then she looked at Mom.
“No.”
Mom began sobbing.
Claire stared at her.
“Tell me this isn’t true.”
Mom stepped into the room.
“Claire—”
“Tell me!”
Mom covered her mouth.
Claire held up the hospital bracelet.
BABY GIRL CALDWELL.
Then she read the final line aloud.
The words that Evelyn had hidden beneath my bedroom floor for more than two decades.
“Claire’s biological mother is Diane Caldwell.”
My mother.
Claire looked at me.
I looked at her.
And suddenly the question of whether Claire and I were related became even more terrifying.
Because if Mom was Claire’s biological mother…
there was only one question left.
“Mom,” I whispered.
“Who is Claire’s father?”
Mom stared at Dad.
Dad stared at the floor.
And from downstairs came a sound none of us expected.
The front door opening.
Then a man’s voice called through the house.
“Diane?”
Mom’s face drained of color.
Dad whispered one word.
“Impossible.”
Footsteps moved slowly toward the staircase.
Claire grabbed my hand.
The man downstairs spoke again.
“I think it’s finally time our daughter knew who I am.”
TO BE CONTINUED………………….
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