Chapter 4: The Man Who Claimed to Be Her Father
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the ticking clock on Rachel Collins's office wall.
Daniel Mercer.
My wife's younger brother.
The man who had attended Maya's birthday parties, brought her Christmas presents, and once spent an entire afternoon teaching her how to ride a bicycle.
The man who had stood beside me at my wedding and promised to treat my daughter like his own niece.
Now he was claiming to be her biological father.
I looked at Rachel.
“Are you telling me Daniel contacted this school and said Maya was his daughter?””
Rachel nodded carefully.
“He requested access to her educational and medical records. He provided a copy of a document suggesting he was her biological parent.””
“That's impossible.””
“I understand this is difficult.””
“No. You don't understand.”” I pushed the paper toward her.
“I've raised Maya since she was born. I was there when she took her first breath. I signed her birth certificate. I have photographs from the hospital.””
Rachel folded her hands.
“Then I strongly recommend you preserve those records and speak with an independent attorney.””
Maya was sitting beside me, swinging her feet beneath the chair.
She hadn't said anything.
I turned toward her.
“Sweetheart, did you know Uncle Daniel was saying something like this?””
She nodded.
“When did you hear him?””
“The night he came over with Mommy.””
“When was that?””
“Last month.””
Rachel exchanged a glance with me.
“What did he say?””
Maya looked down at her shoes.
“He told Mommy that he was tired of waiting.””
My throat tightened.
“Waiting for what?””
“He said you had everything that belonged to him.””
I stared at my daughter.
“Did he say anything else?””
Maya nodded.
“He said when you weren't living here anymore, he could take me.””
Rachel slowly reached for her notepad.
“Michael, I'm going to document that statement.””
I looked at her.
“Please do.””
On the drive home, Maya sat quietly in the passenger seat. I had moved her booster seat from the back because she wanted to sit where she could hold my hand at stoplights.
Halfway down our street, she finally spoke.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Is Uncle Daniel my real daddy?””
I gripped the steering wheel.
“No, sweetheart. I'm your daddy.””
“But he said he was.””
“He's lying about something. We're going to find out exactly what.””
She watched the houses pass outside the window.
“Why would he want to take me?””
I didn't have an answer that a nine-year-old should ever have to hear.
So I gave her the truth I could promise.
“Because some grown-ups make selfish choices. But none of those choices are your fault.””
When we arrived, Vanessa's car was gone.
Brielle was sitting on the living room sofa, scrolling through her phone.
She looked up when we entered.
“Mom said you took Maya to school to tell lies about her.””
I stopped.
“Excuse me?””
“She said you're trying to make her look abusive.””
Maya moved behind my leg.
I looked at Brielle.
“Did your mother tell you what happened in the garage?””
Brielle shrugged.
“She said Maya chose to sleep there.””
I stared at her.
“Do you believe that?””
She rolled her eyes.
“I don't know. Maya always gets special treatment.””
I lowered my voice.
“Brielle, your stepsister is nine years old. She was sleeping on concrete.””
“She had a blanket.””
The casual way she said it made my stomach turn.
I walked to the sofa and picked up a shopping bag.
Inside were Maya's books, coloring pencils, and several of her clothes.
Someone had packed them.
“Why are these here?””
Brielle looked away.
“Mom said we might have to rearrange rooms again.””
“Why?””
She shrugged.
“Because Uncle Daniel is coming over.””
I froze.
“When?””
“Tonight.””
“Did your mother tell you why?””
Brielle finally looked at me.
“He's bringing some papers.””
I placed the bag down.
“What papers?””
“I don't know. Something about the house.””
I studied her face.
“Brielle, has your mother told you that Daniel is Maya's biological father?””
Her eyes widened.
Then she quickly looked back at her phone.
“I'm not supposed to talk about that.””
I sat opposite her.
“Who told you not to?””
She said nothing.
“Brielle.””
“Mom.””
I leaned forward.
“Listen to me. Whatever is happening between the adults, Maya is not responsible for it. She's your sister. She needs protection, not punishment.””
Brielle's jaw tightened.
“She isn't my sister.””
The words hung between us.
Then she stood and walked upstairs.
I waited until I heard her bedroom door close.
At 4:36 p.m., my phone rang.
It was Daniel.
I answered.
“Hello?””
“Michael. Finally.””
His voice sounded almost cheerful.
“We need to talk.””
“About what?””
“Vanessa tells me you've been asking questions.””
I looked at Maya, who was sitting at the dining table drawing a picture.
“Then you know what I'm asking.””
Daniel chuckled.
“Listen, brother-in-law. Let's not make this ugly.””
“You contacted my daughter's school.””
“I contacted a school where my daughter happens to study.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“She's not your daughter.””
There was a pause.
Then Daniel said, “You really believe that?””
I didn't answer.
He continued.
“Vanessa should have told you years ago. But she was afraid you'd leave.””
“Leave because of what?””
“Because Maya isn't biologically yours.””
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“Prove it.””
“Gladly.””
“Bring the evidence.””
“I'll come tonight.””
“Bring everything.””
Daniel laughed softly.
“You might want to sit down first, Michael. There's something else you should know.””
“What?””
“Laura knew.””
I stopped breathing.
Laura.
My first wife.
Maya's mother.
The woman who had died when Maya was only three.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Your late wife knew exactly who Maya's biological father was. And she made Vanessa promise to keep the truth hidden.””
Then he hung up.
I stood motionless in the kitchen.
Maya looked up.
“Daddy?””
I forced myself to turn.
“Yes, sweetheart?””
“Are you sad?””
I walked over and knelt beside her.
“A little.””
She put down her colored pencil.
“Is it because of me?””
I held her face gently.
“Never because of you.””
Then my phone vibrated again.
A message from Daniel.
It contained a photograph of a handwritten letter.
The signature at the bottom was unmistakable.
Laura's.
May you like
And the first sentence read:
*Vanessa, if anything happens to me, please make sure Michael never discovers what happened the night Maya was born.*
