Chapter 9: The Man Who Should Be Dead
Nobody moved.
Darius could hear Nia breathing behind him.
Marcus stood completely still.
The voice came from downstairs again.
“Darius, come down.””
Darius's hand tightened around the photograph.
His mind rejected what his ears were hearing.
His father had been buried twelve years ago.
He had attended the funeral.
He had watched the casket disappear beneath the ground.
Yet that voice—
That exact voice—
was standing somewhere inside his house.
Marcus whispered, “That's not possible.””
Darius looked at him.
“You heard it.””
“Yes.””
“Then tell me I'm crazy.””
Marcus said nothing.
A floorboard creaked downstairs.
Darius picked up a heavy brass lamp from the bedroom table.
Marcus shook his head.
“Don't.””
Darius whispered, “Stay with Nia.””
He stepped into the hallway.
“Daddy,” Nia whispered.
He turned.
“I'll be right back.””
“Don't leave me.””
“I won't.””
He descended the staircase slowly.
At the bottom, the dining room was empty.
The flowers lay scattered across the floor.
The champagne glasses glittered beneath the chandelier.
Then a shadow moved near the kitchen.
Darius raised the lamp.
“Come out.””
Nothing.
He took another step.
A man emerged from the darkness.
Darius stopped breathing.
The face was older.
The hair was grayer.
There were deep lines around the eyes.
But there was no mistaking him.
His father.
Darius's lips parted.
“Dad?””
The man looked at him.
“Hello, son.””
Darius stumbled backward.
“No.””
The man raised both hands.
“I know what you're thinking.””
“You're dead.””
“I know.””
“You're dead.””
“Yes.””
Darius's voice broke.
“I buried you.””
The man looked down.
“I know.””
Marcus appeared at the top of the stairs.
Darius held out an arm.
“Stay there.””
His father looked at Marcus.
“Marcus.””
Marcus's face went white.
“You know me?””
The older man smiled sadly.
“I've known you longer than you think.””
Darius stared between them.
“What is happening?””
His father walked toward the dining table.
“You've been asking the wrong questions.””
Darius followed with his eyes.
“What questions should I be asking?””
“Not who fathered the baby.””
Darius's stomach tightened.
“Then what?””
“Who created the lie?””
Marcus stepped down one stair.
“What lie?””
Darius's father looked at him.
“The lie that Simone's pregnancy is the beginning of this story.””
Darius's mind raced.
“Then where does it begin?””
His father reached into his coat.
Darius raised the lamp.
“Don't.””
The man slowly pulled out a small photograph.
He placed it on the table.
Darius approached.
His father said quietly, “Look.””
Darius picked it up.
It was an old hospital photograph.
A woman lay in a hospital bed.
Simone.
But she looked much younger.
Beside her was Yvonne.
And beside Yvonne stood a doctor Darius didn't recognize.
His father's voice came from behind him.
“That photograph was taken the night Nia was born.””
Darius stared.
“Nia was born at a hospital.””
“Yes.””
“Simone told me it was an ordinary delivery.””
“It wasn't.””
“What happened?””
His father looked toward the stairs.
“Nia was born with a medical complication.””
Darius looked at the photograph again.
“What complication?””
“The doctors discovered something unusual.””
Darius's fingers tightened.
“What?””
His father didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at Marcus.
“Tell him.””
Marcus's face twisted.
“You tell him.””
“You were there.””
“I wasn't supposed to be.””
Darius turned.
“You were there when Nia was born?””
Marcus shook his head.
“No.””
His father corrected him.
“His brother was.””
Darius froze.
“My brother?””
His father nodded.
“Your younger brother.””
Darius stared toward the dining room where his brother had been celebrating only hours earlier.
“He was here tonight.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
His father took a slow breath.
“Because he knows the truth.””
Darius's phone buzzed.
A message from Simone.
*I'M SORRY.*
Another arrived immediately.
*I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO TELL YOU.*
Then:
*NIA'S DNA WAS CHANGED AFTER SHE WAS BORN.*
Darius stared at the screen.
His father watched him.
“Now you understand.””
Darius looked up.
“Who changed it?””
His father didn't answer.
Instead, he pointed toward the photograph.
“Look at Yvonne's hand.””
Darius zoomed in.
There was something between his mother's fingers.
A small hospital bracelet.
Darius's name was printed on it.
But beneath his name was another label.
*BABY BOY — CARTER.*
Darius's heart slammed against his ribs.
“That isn't Nia's bracelet.””
“No.””
“Then whose?””
His father's expression changed.
“Your brother's.””
Darius stared at the photograph.
The pieces refused to fit.
His father's death.
His mother's secret.
Simone's clinic visit.
Marcus.
Nia.
The unborn baby.
And now his brother.
Then footsteps sounded behind him.
Darius turned.
His younger brother stood at the top of the stairs.
His face was pale.
He looked directly at their father.
Then at Darius.
May you like
And whispered:
“You weren't supposed to see that photograph.””
