Chapter 3: The Secret My Mother Buried
The darkness lasted only seven seconds.
But seven seconds was enough time for my entire world to change.
One moment, I was standing in a hospital hallway with my father—the man I had spent half my life believing chose to leave me.
The next moment, the lights disappeared.
The emergency alarms started screaming.
People shouted.
Footsteps rushed across the floor.
And in the middle of the chaos, I heard one voice.
“Nia!””
Bear.
My father.
Calling my name like he had been saying it every day for years.
A hand grabbed my arm.
I almost screamed.
Then I realized it was him.
“Stay close,” Bear said.
I pulled away immediately.
“Don’t touch me.””
The words came out automatically.
His hand dropped.
Even in the darkness, I saw the hurt on his face.
For a second, I hated myself for noticing.
I hated that after everything, some part of me still cared.
The emergency lights flickered on, painting the hallway red.
Nurses rushed past us.
A hospital employee shouted that everyone needed to remain calm.
But I couldn’t move.
Because my mind was stuck on one sentence.
They know you found me.
Who were they?
And why did they care?
Bear looked toward the hospital entrance.
His entire body had changed.
The gentle man who had held Eli like he was made of glass was gone.
Now I saw the person everyone else seemed to know.
The biker.
The survivor.
The man who had spent years looking over his shoulder.
“Who was on the phone?”” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Marcus.””
The name made him look back at me.
Nobody called him that anymore.
Not even the people who loved him.
“What did they mean?”” I demanded.
“Who knows?””
His eyes moved across the hallway.
Checking doors.
Checking cameras.
Checking exits.
That terrified me more than anything.
Because it meant he believed there was a real threat.
Finally, he looked at me.
“I need you to listen carefully.””
I crossed my arms.
“I’ve been waiting twenty-seven years for answers. I think I can handle listening.””
His face tightened.
“You don’t understand what you’re involved in.””
“Then explain it.””
A nurse passing by glanced at us.
Bear lowered his voice.
“Not here.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.””
“What?””
“Not here. Not now. Not yet.””
I shook my head.
“That’s your favorite answer, isn’t it?””
Pain crossed his face.
“You think I don’t know what I did?””
“I think you have no idea what it feels like to be the person left behind.””
He looked down.
And for the first time, I saw something I never expected.
Shame.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Shame.
Like he had been carrying something heavy for so long that it had changed the way he stood.
Before I could say anything else, a small voice interrupted us.
“Nia?””
I turned.
Eli was sitting in his hospital bed near the doorway.
A nurse was adjusting his blanket.
His face was pale.
But his eyes were focused on me.
“How do you know my name?”” I asked.
The nurse looked confused.
Eli looked at Bear.
Bear closed his eyes briefly.
“Eli.””
The boy looked down.
“I’m sorry.””
My chest tightened.
“Sorry for what?””
He didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“Eli, how do you know me?””
The little boy twisted the hospital blanket in his hands.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“Because he kept your picture.””
I looked at Bear.
“What?””
Eli pointed at him.
“Your dad.””
The word hit harder coming from a child.
Your dad.
Not Marcus.
Not Bear.
Dad.
“He talked about you,” Eli continued.
Bear immediately stepped forward.
“Eli, that’s enough.””
But I stopped him.
“No.””
My voice shook.
“No, let him talk.””
Bear looked at me.
I could see the fear in his eyes.
Not fear of me.
Fear of what I was about to learn.
Eli looked between us.
“He said you liked strawberry ice cream.””
My throat tightened.
That was true.
A tiny detail.
Something nobody would remember.
Nobody except someone who knew me.
“He said you hated thunderstorms.””
I swallowed.
“He said you used to sing when you brushed your teeth.””
My eyes burned.
Because that was something my mother used to joke about.
Something only my father would know.
Eli continued softly.
“He said he missed you.””
The hallway disappeared.
For a moment, I was five again.
Standing by the window.
Waiting.
Believing.
Then I remembered.
The empty birthdays.
The unanswered questions.
The nights my mother cried when she thought I wasn’t watching.
I turned toward Bear.
“Why?””
He didn’t move.
“Why did you keep a picture of me if you never came back?””
His mouth opened.
Closed.
Then finally:
“Because I tried.””
The words were quiet.
But they broke something inside me.
“You tried?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Many times.””
“Then why didn’t I see you?””
He looked away.
Because he had an answer.
And I already knew I wouldn’t like it.
“Because someone made sure you didn’t.””
The air left my lungs.
“What does that mean?””
Before he could answer, one of the bikers from the garage walked into the hallway.
The woman with braids.
She looked tense.
“Bear.””
He turned.
“What?””
She glanced at me.
Then at Eli.
“We need to leave.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“What?””
She ignored me.
“Now.””
Bear’s expression hardened.
“Did you see them?””
She nodded once.
“Two men outside the east entrance.””
My heart started racing.
“Who are they?””
Nobody answered.
That was becoming a pattern I hated.
I stepped in front of Bear.
“No.””
Everyone looked at me.
“No more secrets.””
Bear stared at me.
I pointed toward Eli.
“That child knows things about me. Someone is looking for you. My mother supposedly lied to me. And now you’re all acting like I’m the only person who doesn’t understand what’s happening.””
Silence.
Then Bear spoke.
“You’re right.””
I didn’t expect that.
He took a breath.
“My name is Marcus Jackson.””
Hearing my father say his own name felt strange.
“I was part of a motorcycle club.””
The woman beside him looked proud.
“Not a gang,” Bear continued.
“A community. We protected people who had nobody.””
I said nothing.
“When I found out someone was using our organization to move information they shouldn’t have had…”
He stopped.
“What information?””
He looked at me.
“Information about families.””
A cold feeling spread through me.
“What kind of families?””
His eyes dropped.
“Families connected to a certain program.””
I frowned.
“What program?””
He hesitated.
Then:
“The kind of program that makes people disappear.””
I stared at him.
“You expect me to believe that?””
“No.””
The answer surprised me.
“I expect you to remember.””
“Remember what?””
He looked directly into my eyes.
“When you were five years old, you saw something you weren’t supposed to see.””
I felt dizzy.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“I would remember.””
“You don’t.””
His voice softened.
“Because your mother spent years convincing you it never happened.””
My hands started shaking.
A memory flickered.
A sound.
A room.
A man yelling.
My mother crying.
A motorcycle engine outside our house.
I pushed it away.
“No.””
Bear stepped closer.
“Nia.””
“Stop.””
“You were there.””
“Stop.””
“You saw the people who came for me.””
My breathing became uneven.
I looked at Eli.
Then at Bear.
The man I hated.
The man I missed.
The man who somehow knew pieces of my life I had forgotten.
Suddenly, Eli reached into his hospital bag.
“I have something.””
Bear’s face changed.
“Eli, no.””
But the boy pulled out a small object.
A faded photograph.
He held it toward me.
I took it slowly.
The picture was old.
Yellowed at the edges.
A little girl stood beside a motorcycle.
A young man with a bright smile held her hand.
Me.
And my father.
But behind us, barely visible in the background, was another person.
A person standing near our house.
Watching.
My fingers went numb.
Because I recognized the face.
I had seen that face before.
Not in my childhood.
Not in my memories.
In my adult life.
At my workplace.
At the grocery store.
Across the street from my apartment.
A man I thought was just a stranger.
Bear watched my reaction.
“You know him.””
I couldn’t speak.
Because the man in the photograph was the same man who had been following me for months.
And then my phone buzzed.
A new message appeared.
Unknown number.
May you like
One sentence.
*YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOUR FATHER BURIED.*
