Chapter 8: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Samuel reached the bottom of the stairs first.
The front door stood open.
Snow blew across the hardwood floor.
A Christmas wreath swung wildly from one broken hinge.
Marcus stayed behind him.
“Is he here?””
Samuel scanned the room.
“No.””
Then Evelyn screamed.
“Leon!””
Everyone turned.
Leon was gone.
Marcus ran upstairs.
The attic window was open.
Fresh footprints crossed the snow-covered roof.
Marcus looked back at Evelyn.
“Where is he?””
She covered her mouth.
“I don't know.””
Samuel grabbed his coat.
“We're going.””
Evelyn stopped him.
“You can't.””
Samuel turned.
“Why?””
“Because Daniel wants you to chase him.””
Samuel stared.
“Where?””
She didn't answer.
Marcus held up the photograph.
“This address.””
Evelyn's eyes widened.
“Where did you get that?””
“From Leon's father.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“That house is a trap.””
Samuel stepped closer.
“What happened there?””
Evelyn looked at Marcus.
“That is where I first saw you.””
Marcus frowned.
“You remember?””
“I remember everything.””
She took a breath.
“Daniel brought you there on Christmas Eve.””
Samuel's jaw tightened.
“Why?””
“Because he wanted to convince your mother you were dead.””
Marcus stared.
“What?””
“He told her you were killed in a motorcycle accident.””
Samuel shook his head.
“My motorcycle was stolen that night.””
“Yes.””
“By Daniel?””
Evelyn nodded.
“He staged the accident.””
Marcus looked at Samuel.
“And my mother believed him?””
“She had no reason not to.””
Samuel's eyes closed.
Thirty years.
Thirty years of believing he had failed his family.
Thirty years of wondering whether Renee had hated him.
Thirty years of believing his son had forgotten him.
All because of a lie.
Marcus touched his shoulder.
“Dad.””
Samuel froze.
It was the first time Marcus had called him that.
Neither man moved.
Marcus looked embarrassed.
“I don't know why I said that.””
Samuel's eyes filled with tears.
“You don't have to explain.””
Marcus nodded.
Then Evelyn spoke.
“There is something else.””
Samuel looked at her.
“What?””
“Daniel wasn't working alone.””
Marcus sighed.
“Of course he wasn't.””
Evelyn walked to the kitchen.
She opened a drawer and pulled out a small envelope.
“I kept this for thirty years.””
Samuel took it.
“What is it?””
“A letter.””
“To you?””
“To Marcus.””
Marcus opened it.
Inside was a child's drawing.
A crooked house.
A Christmas tree.
Three stick figures.
A tall man.
A woman.
A little boy.
And beneath them, written in childish handwriting:
*Daddy, Mommy, Me.*
Marcus stared.
“I drew this.””
Evelyn nodded.
“You drew it the night before you were taken.””
Samuel touched the page.
“Do you remember me?””
Marcus shook his head.
“Not clearly.””
“Then why did you draw me?””
Evelyn answered.
“Because you knew your father was coming back.””
Marcus looked at Samuel.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
Then Evelyn reached into the envelope again.
There was a second piece of paper.
An official-looking document.
Marcus read it.
His face changed.
“This isn't my birth certificate.””
Samuel took it.
It was an adoption agreement.
But the name of the adoptive father had been blacked out.
Marcus stared.
“Who adopted me?””
Evelyn looked at him.
“You weren't adopted.””
“What?””
“You were placed temporarily.””
“By who?””
“By someone who promised to return you.””
Samuel's voice sharpened.
“Who?””
Evelyn looked away.
Marcus grabbed her wrist.
“Tell me.””
She whispered,
“Your biological father.””
Samuel went completely still.
“That doesn't make sense.””
Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
“It will.””
“How?””
“Because the man who raised you wasn't Daniel.””
Marcus stared.
“What?””
Evelyn pointed to the blacked-out name.
“The name under that ink is the name of the man who claimed to be Samuel Carter.””
Samuel's blood ran cold.
“The man from the recording.””
Evelyn nodded.
“He wasn't your brother.””
Marcus looked between them.
“Then who was he?””
Evelyn didn't answer.
A phone rang.
Not Marcus's.
Not Samuel's.
Evelyn reached into her coat.
She looked at the screen.
Her face turned white.
Marcus whispered,
“Who is it?””
Evelyn slowly handed him the phone.
The caller ID showed one name.
*Samuel Carter.*
Marcus looked at the real Samuel.
Samuel stared at the screen.
The phone kept ringing.
Then it stopped.
A voicemail appeared.
Marcus pressed play.
A man's voice filled the room.
Older.
Calm.
Almost identical to Samuel's.
*“If you're hearing this, Evelyn failed to keep you hidden.””*
Marcus's eyes widened.
The voice continued.
*“And if Samuel is standing beside you…”*
A pause.
Then:
*“…tell my son I never stopped looking for him.””*
The message ended.
Marcus slowly lowered the phone.
Samuel whispered,
“That was my voice.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.””
May you like
She looked at him with terror.
“That was your father's voice.””
