Chapter 4: The Name on the Second DNA Report
For several seconds, nobody moved.
I stared at the name on the document.
David Morgan.
My best friend.
The man who had stood beside me at my wedding. The man who had helped me carry Margaret's coffin. The man who had held my shoulder while I cried at her funeral.
David had been my friend for thirty-eight years.
He knew everything about my marriage.
Or so I had believed.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Zachary slipped the document back into his jacket.
"Is it?""
I stepped toward him.
"David was like a brother to me.""
"Apparently, he was closer to your wife than you realized.""
Edward slammed his cane against the floor.
"Enough, Zachary.""
Zachary barely glanced at him.
"Grandfather, you've spent eleven years protecting a woman who destroyed this family. I think Christopher deserves to know what she did.""
I looked at Edward.
"Is this true?""
Edward lowered his eyes.
"David worked for my father. He and Margaret knew each other long before you met her.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
"No," he admitted.
"It doesn't.""
Hannah stood beside the emergency passage, holding the wooden box against her chest.
"Zachary, where is David now?""
He smiled.
"That's an interesting question.""
"Answer me.""
"He died three months ago.""
The room seemed to lose its air.
"What?""
"Heart failure. At least, that's what the family was told.""
I shook my head.
"David was perfectly healthy.""
"People die, Christopher.""
"Not three months after telling me he was going to retire and move to Florida.""
Zachary tilted his head.
"Did he tell you that?""
"Yes.""
"Then perhaps he was planning something else.""
I remembered David's last telephone call.
He had sounded unusually nervous. He'd asked whether I still kept Margaret's old letters.
I had told him I did.
He'd gone quiet.
Then he'd said, "Chris, some things are better left buried.""
At the time, I thought he was talking about grief.
Now I wasn't so sure.
Edward approached the table.
"Zachary, give me the document.""
"No.""
"It belongs to me.""
"Everything in this room belongs to this family.""
Edward's expression hardened.
"Not anymore.""
Zachary laughed.
"You still think you can control what happens here?""
He turned toward me.
"Let me explain something, Christopher. My biological father was David Morgan. Your wife knew that.
My mother knew that. Edward knew that.""
"Who was your mother?""
Zachary's expression changed.
For the first time, he seemed uncomfortable.
"Margaret.""
I felt my stomach drop.
Hannah looked between us.
"Wait. Mom was your mother?""
Zachary nodded.
"She gave birth to me when she was very young. Before she married Christopher.""
I shook my head.
"That's not possible. Margaret never had another child.""
"She did. She gave me up for adoption.""
Edward closed his eyes.
"Margaret was twenty-one. David was twenty-four. My father arranged the adoption because an illegitimate child would have destroyed the Albright family's reputation.""
I looked at the document again.
The pieces were beginning to fit.
Margaret had given birth to Zachary before she met me.
David was his biological father.
Edward's family had raised him as an Albright.
And Hannah...
Hannah wasn't related to Zachary.
She had married a man who had spent his entire life searching for the woman who had given birth to him.
"Why didn't you tell her?"" I demanded.
Zachary looked at Hannah.
"Because I needed her to trust me.""
Hannah's face went white.
"You married me to get close to Mom?""
"Initially.""
The single word was like a slap.
"Initially?"" she repeated.
He walked toward her.
"Hannah, things changed.""
"Don't come near me.""
"I loved you.""
"You lied to me for two years!""
"I was trying to find my mother.""
"You could have asked!""
"I did. She refused to see me.""
Hannah stared at him.
"Then why did you make me believe she was dead?""
Zachary's silence answered her.
I grabbed his jacket.
"You used my daughter.""
He shoved my hand away.
"Don't pretend you were an innocent husband. You never even knew your wife.""
I wanted to hit him.
I wanted to make him feel even a fraction of what I was feeling.
But Hannah suddenly screamed.
"STOP!""
We both turned.
She was holding a photograph.
It showed Margaret standing beside a young woman outside a hospital.
The woman was carrying a newborn baby.
On the back, Margaret had written:
*My first goodbye. My last mistake.*
Hannah's hands trembled.
"Why did you keep this?""
Zachary's eyes narrowed.
"Give it to me.""
"No.""
She turned the photograph over again.
Something was written beneath Margaret's message.
A date.
And an address.
Hannah read it aloud.
"April 17. Saint Mary's Hospital. Records Department.""
Edward looked up sharply.
"That's where the original adoption papers were stored.""
Zachary lunged toward her.
I caught his arm.
He swung at me, catching my cheek.
I stumbled into the table.
Edward shouted for the security guards.
But before anyone could move, Hannah pulled a small black object from the wooden box.
A flash drive.
She held it up.
"What's this?""
Zachary stopped.
For the first time, genuine fear crossed his face.
Edward whispered, "Margaret's recordings.""
Zachary looked at the flash drive as if it were a loaded weapon.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"That isn't possible. I watched her burn the original.""
Hannah backed away.
"You watched Mom burn what?""
Zachary took one step toward her.
And I finally understood why he had been so desperate to get that box back.
The photographs weren't the secret.
The documents weren't the secret.
May you like
The recording was.
And whatever Margaret had said on it was something Zachary was willing to destroy his own wife to keep hidden.
