Chapter 6: The Father in the Photograph
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
The man on the phone laughed softly.
"Still there, sweetheart?""
"Who are you?""
"You know who I am.""
"Arthur?""
"Very good.""
I stared at Eleanor.
She had both hands pressed against her mouth.
Arthur continued.
"Your mother has always been a talented storyteller. She knows how to make herself look like a victim.""
"Don't call her that.""
"Emily, I understand you're confused. But you need to come home.""
"Why?""
"Because there are things about your birth that you deserve to know.""
I tightened my grip on the phone.
"Then tell me.""
Arthur sighed.
"Not over the telephone.""
"Why not?""
"Because your husband is already making enough mistakes.""
The call ended.
Edward immediately reached for his phone.
"Don't move," he told the driver.
"Take us to the police station.""
But I wasn't listening.
I was staring at Eleanor.
"Is Daniel my father?""
She closed her eyes.
"Yes.""
"Then why did Arthur say—"
"Because he wants you frightened.""
"Mom, I need the truth.""
Eleanor reached into her handbag and pulled out a folded document.
"I should have shown you this earlier.""
It was a DNA report.
The paper was yellowed around the edges.
I read the first line.
*Subject A: Eleanor Grace Hayes.*
*Subject B: Emily Eleanor Bennett.*
The conclusion stated a 99.99 percent probability of biological maternity.
I looked up.
"Why do you have this?""
"Because I had a test done shortly after you were born.""
She pulled out another report.
This one contained three names.
Daniel Bennett.
Arthur Bennett.
And an unnamed female infant.
The results showed Daniel as the biological father.
My knees weakened.
"Then Arthur is lying.""
Eleanor nodded.
"About that, yes.""
"But why would he say it?""
She looked down.
"Because he wants you to believe your entire identity is false. That's how he controls people.""
I sat back.
The car continued toward the police station.
Edward had been making calls, but now he lowered his phone.
"There's another possibility.""
Eleanor looked at him.
"What?""
"Arthur may be trying to distract Emily from something more important.""
Margaret, who had been following us in another car, called.
Edward answered through the speaker.
"Margaret?""
"I just spoke with the registry office. The original birth certificate was amended twice.""
I leaned forward.
"Amended?""
"Yes. The first amendment was filed in 2006. The second was filed in 2009, shortly after Daniel's death.""
"Who requested them?""
There was a pause.
"Patricia Bennett.""
I felt sick.
"What did she change?""
"The first amendment changed your legal surname from Hayes to Bennett. The second removed Daniel's name from a separate guardianship record and replaced it with Arthur's company as the responsible custodian.""
I stared at the floor.
"So Arthur was legally responsible for me?""
"On paper, briefly. But there's more.""
Margaret's voice dropped.
"The original document names a third person as a witness.""
"Who?""
"Richard Bennett.""
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Richard had been there from the beginning.
We arrived at the police station, where Edward insisted on reporting the attempted pickup at Lily's school.
A detective named Harris took our statements.
He listened without interrupting, occasionally making notes.
When I finished, he asked a question.
"Mrs. Bennett, does your husband have any legal authority to collect your daughter from school?""
"Yes. He's her father.""
"And does the older man have any authority?""
"No.""
Detective Harris nodded.
"We'll investigate the attempted collection. But I need to ask something else. Have you received any threats from your husband?""
I hesitated.
Then I remembered the birthday cake.
The bruises on my scalp.
The way Richard had grabbed my arm when I refused to give him money.
"Yes.""
"Would you be willing to provide the messages?""
"Yes.""
He gave me a form.
For the first time in six years, someone was asking me to document what had happened instead of explaining why I deserved it.
After the police report, Edward arranged for Lily to stay with a trusted family friend while we sorted out the situation.
I called the school.
Lily answered the teacher's phone.
"Mommy?""
"Hi, baby.""
"Are you coming?""
"Yes. I promise.""
"Is Daddy coming too?""
I closed my eyes.
"Not today, sweetheart.""
"Why?""
I struggled to find the right words.
"Because Mommy needs to keep you safe.""
She was quiet.
Then she whispered, "I don't like when Daddy hurts you.""
My heart broke.
"I know, baby.""
"Grandma says you make Daddy angry.""
I looked at Eleanor.
She was listening, tears rolling down her face.
I swallowed.
"Sometimes grown-ups say things that aren't true. None of this is your fault.""
"Okay, Mommy.""
"I love you.""
"I love you too.""
When the call ended, I couldn't hold back my tears.
Eleanor moved closer and put her arms around me.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there.""
I leaned against her.
"You didn't know.""
"I should have found you sooner.""
"You were looking.""
She kissed my forehead.
For a few moments, neither of us spoke.
Then Edward's phone rang.
He looked at the screen and frowned.
"Margaret?""
He answered.
"What happened?""
His expression changed.
"What do you mean the office was broken into?""
I sat upright.
Margaret's voice came through the speaker.
"Someone entered the records room at the law firm twenty minutes ago. They didn't take money or computers. They went directly to the original estate files.""
"Which files?""
"The Hayes Family Trust. And the original DNA reports.""
Edward looked at me.
"Was anything recovered?""
"One thing.""
"What?""
"A photograph. It was left on the desk.""
Edward asked her to send it.
A moment later, his phone lit up.
He opened the image.
It showed a young man standing outside a hospital.
Daniel Bennett.
Beside him stood a woman I had never seen before.
She was holding a baby.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written:
The truth about Emily's birth. January 2006.
I leaned closer.
"Who is that woman?""
Edward enlarged the photograph.
Eleanor suddenly stood.
The color drained from her face.
"That's not possible.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
She pointed at the woman holding the baby.
"That's Patricia.""
I stared at the picture.
My mother.
Holding a newborn.
But according to the date, this photograph had been taken nine months before I was born.
Edward turned the image over.
There was another handwritten sentence.
Ask Patricia why she was already holding a baby before Eleanor gave birth.
My phone began ringing.
Patricia.
I answered.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then my mother whispered:
"Emily, whatever Edward tells you, don't let him show you the second photograph.""
My blood ran cold.
"What second photograph?""
Her voice broke.
"The one showing what happened to the baby Patricia was holding.""
May you like
And before I could ask another question, she said:
"Because that baby wasn't you.""
