I couldn't take my eyes off the photograph.
My mother stood beside Michael, younger than I had ever seen her, her hand resting against his chest.
Behind them was a building I recognized.
My grandfather’s old office.
The date written on the back was impossible.
My mother had married my father before that date.
At least, that was what I had always believed.
I looked at her.
“Tell me the truth.”
She didn't answer.
“Mom.”
Her lips trembled.
“I married your father later than you were told.”
My father looked down.
“How much later?”
“Two years.”
I stared at both of them.
“You lied about your marriage?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael was still alive.”
The room seemed to become smaller.
My mother continued.
“I believed he would come back.”
“Then why marry Dad?”
“Because I thought Michael was dangerous.”
My father spoke quietly.
“She came to me after the bridge incident.”
I looked at him.
“You knew she was still married?”
“Yes.”
“And you married her anyway?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid.”
That answer didn't explain anything.
“What happened to the marriage?”
My mother wiped her eyes.
“Michael disappeared after the bridge. I believed he was dead. Months passed. Then a year.”
“And you never reported him?”
“We did.”
“Then?”
“Nothing.”
“Why not?”
My father answered.
“Because the investigation into the missing money was still active.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“So when did Lily enter this?”
My mother went completely still.
I knew before she spoke.
“Lily is Michael’s daughter.”
The words hit harder than anything else that night.
I looked toward the hallway as if Lily might suddenly appear.
“No.”
My mother began crying.
“I was pregnant when Michael disappeared.”
My father closed his eyes.
“I knew.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“And you raised her anyway?”
“She was a baby.”
My voice cracked.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid Michael would find her.”
“But he did.”
“Yes.”
The room fell silent.
I thought of every birthday.
Every school photograph.
Every time Lily had asked where she got her eyes.
Every time my mother had changed the subject.
“How long has Michael known?”
“We don't know.”
“Three months?”
“Maybe longer.”
I turned toward Detective Morris.
“Does this change the case?”
He nodded.
“It changes the motive.”
“What about the crash?”
“We’re still investigating.”
“Could Michael be trying to hurt Lily?”
“He may be trying to frighten her.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
He paused.
“We don't know what he wants.”
I looked at Daniel.
He had remained silent.
“Say something.”
He took a breath.
“The person who staged this wanted you to believe Lily was responsible. Now we know why.”
“Because she is Michael’s daughter.”
“Exactly.”
I shook my head.
“But if he wanted her, why frame her?”
“To isolate you. To make you distrust her. To create pressure.”
“Or to make the police take her away.”
Daniel nodded.
“That is possible.”
I felt sick.
My fifteen-year-old daughter had nearly been turned into a criminal because of a secret she had never known existed.
I went upstairs.
Lily was sitting on her bed.
She looked at me.
“Mom?”
I sat beside her.
“We need to talk.”
Her face tightened.
“Is someone coming back?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
I took her hand.
“Yes.”
She looked at me carefully.
“You're crying.”
I hadn't realized.
“There is something about your family I should have told you.”
“About Grandpa?”
“About your father.”
Her face changed.
“You mean Dad?”
I nodded.
She looked confused.
“My biological father.”
She stopped breathing for a moment.
“Who is he?”
I could not say it immediately.
“His name is Michael.”
She stared at me.
“Is he alive?”
I nodded.
Lily pulled her hand away.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought you were safer not knowing.”
“Is he the man who took the car?”
“We don't know.”
“Does he want me?”
“I don't know.”
She looked toward the window.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“Why did everyone lie?”
I had no answer.
She stood.
“I want to leave.”
“We can't yet.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has been watching you.”
She stared at me.
“Since when?”
“We don't know.”
She sat down again.
“Did he know about me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I swallowed.
“He took your picture.”
Her face went pale.
“Where?”
“Outside the store.”
She looked at the floor.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I remember someone.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“At the store.”
She looked toward the door.
“There was a man standing near the parking lot.”
“What did he look like?”
“Tall.”
“Anything else?”
“Dark jacket.”
“Did he speak to you?”
“No.”
“Did he follow you?”
“I don't know.”
“Did he look familiar?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
I leaned closer.
“Who did he remind you of?”
She whispered, “Grandpa.”
I froze.
“My father?”
She nodded.
“He had the same way of standing.”
I left Lily with Daniel and returned downstairs.
My father was sitting alone.
“Lily says the man at the store reminded her of you.”
He looked up.
“I've never seen him.”
“Did Michael look like you?”
My father hesitated.
“When we were young, people confused us.”
I stared.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“There were things we couldn't explain.”
“Like what?”
He stood and walked toward the window.
“Michael wasn't simply my wife's first husband.”
I waited.
“He was my business partner.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“We built the company together.”
“And the missing money?”
My father nodded.
“We both had access.”
“So you could have stolen it.”
“Yes.”
The admission was quiet.
I felt my stomach turn.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did Michael?”
“I don't know.”
My father looked at me.
“But there was one account neither of us controlled.”
“Whose?”
“Your grandfather’s.”
I remembered the envelope.
The will.
The photograph.
The old office.
“Where are those records?”
“Gone.”
“Who took them?”
“I don't know.”
I stepped closer.
“Dad.”
He looked exhausted.
“I think Michael knows.”
“Knows what?”
“The money was never stolen.”
“What?”
“It was transferred.”
“To where?”
He shook his head.
“That is what he has been searching for.”
I stared at him.
“And you know where it went.”
“I know where it was supposed to go.”
“Where?”
He didn't answer.
My phone rang.
Detective Morris.
“We found Evan.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“At a motel outside town.”
“Is he safe?”
“Yes.”
“Was he with Michael?”
“No.”
“Then why was his jacket at the scene?”
“He says it wasn't.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does he say?”
“He says someone stole it.”
“Who?”
“He doesn't know.”
“Can I speak to him?”
“Not yet.”
I turned toward my father.
He was staring at me.
I ended the call.
“Evan was framed too.”
My father nodded.
“I was afraid of that.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael has done this before.”
“What?”
“He makes people look guilty of crimes they didn't commit.”
My mother entered the room.
She looked at my father.
“You told her?”
“Not everything.”
She sat down.
“I think she deserves everything.”
My father looked at her.
“You don't know what that will do.”
“She already knows too much.”
My mother reached into her purse.
She removed a small envelope.
“I found this in the house after Michael disappeared.”
She handed it to me.
Inside was a birth certificate.
My name wasn't on it.
Lily’s was.
Under father’s name:
Michael Vance.
But the date of registration was only three months old.
Someone had obtained a replacement record recently.
My hands began shaking.
“Who requested this?”
My mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Daniel took the document.
“This is new.”
“How new?”
“Three months.”
The same time the threats began.
The same time my mother received the photograph.
The same time someone started watching Lily.
The same time Michael returned.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Lily.
Standing beside me in the hallway.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
I looked toward the staircase.
Nobody was there.
A message followed.
Now you know who she belongs to.
Then another.
Tomorrow, bring me the account records.
Or Lily disappears.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Threat Became Immediate When Lily Vanished From a Locked House, Leaving Only One Message and a Trail Toward the Old Bridge
The Police Said My Daughter Drove the Car, but One Detail About Her Locked Bedroom Made Their Entire Story Impossible
Part 6 of 15
