Chapter 7: The Father Who Was Never Dead
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My biological father was alive.
The man whose name appeared on my birth certificate, the man I had spent thirty years believing was dead, might still be somewhere in the world.
“Patricia,” I finally managed, “are you absolutely certain?””
“I wouldn't have called you if I weren't.””
“Where is he?””
“I don't know exactly. But your grandfather left information about a private investigator he hired shortly before his death.””
I stood and began pacing across the kitchen.
“Why would my grandfather investigate him?””
“Because Daniel Mercer contacted him.””
“When?””
“About six months before your grandfather died.””
I stopped walking.
“What did he want?””
“To meet you.””
My chest tightened.
“Did he?””
“No. Your father found out about the request.””
I gripped my phone.
“What happened?””
Patricia hesitated.
“Your grandfather's notes suggest Richard paid someone to convince Daniel that contacting you would put you in danger.””
I laughed bitterly.
“My father spent my entire life deciding who was allowed to love me.””
“Marcus, there's something else.””
“What?””
“Daniel sent your grandfather a photograph. It was taken recently, not long before the investigation began.””
“Do you have it?””
“Yes. I'll send it.””
A notification appeared on my phone.
I opened the attachment.
The photograph showed a middle-aged man sitting on a wooden bench outside a small restaurant.
His hair was mostly gray.
He wore glasses.
But his eyes—
I stared at them.
They were the same eyes I saw every morning in the mirror.
Underneath the photograph was a handwritten message.
I don't expect him to forgive me for being absent. I only want to know whether my son is happy.
I sat down.
For the first time in my life, I wondered whether I had been abandoned twice.
Once by the mother I thought had left.
And once by the father I had never known.
The next morning, I met Patricia at her house.
She had prepared a folder containing my grandfather's investigative notes.
We sat at her dining table while she spread the papers in front of me.
“Your grandfather hired a private investigator named Samuel Brooks,” she explained.
“He was looking into the money Richard had stolen.””
She pointed to a report.
“During the investigation, Samuel discovered that Daniel Mercer had been living under a different name.””
“Why?””
“Because he claimed he had been threatened.””
I read the report.
Daniel had apparently been working as an engineer in another state.
He had remarried.
He had two children.
He had never contacted me directly.
“Does he have a family?”” I asked.
Patricia nodded.
“A wife named Helen and two daughters.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“Did he know about me?””
“Yes. Your grandfather showed him your childhood photograph.””
I swallowed.
“Did he ask about me?””
“Every time they spoke.””
I stared at the report.
There was an address at the bottom.
A town in Pennsylvania.
The last known address.
I immediately searched for flights.
Patricia touched my arm.
“Marcus, before you go, there's something you should know.””
I looked at her.
“Your grandfather believed Daniel wasn't the only person who knew what happened the night you were born.””
“Who else?””
“Your father's former business partner.””
I frowned.
“His name?””
“Jonathan Pierce.””
I recognized it.
Jonathan had once been mentioned in family conversations. My father had described him as a dishonest man who betrayed the company.
“Where is he?””
“Your grandfather's notes say he moved to Chicago.””
I closed the folder.
“I'll deal with him later.””
Patricia nodded.
Then she handed me a small envelope.
“Your grandfather left this specifically for you.””
Inside was a photograph of my grandfather holding a newborn baby.
On the back, he had written:
To Marcus, my grandson by love, not blood. Never let anyone convince you that family is determined by a name on a document.
My eyes burned.
I folded the photograph carefully and placed it in my wallet.
That evening, I told Eleanor everything.
She listened from her kitchen chair, her hands clasped tightly together.
When I finished, she looked toward the window.
“Daniel is alive.””
“Yes.””
She began crying.
“Your grandfather never told me.””
“He probably wanted to protect you.””
She shook her head.
“I should have known.””
I sat beside her.
“Did you love him?””
She gave a sad smile.
“Daniel was a good man. He and Clara were very much in love.””
“Why weren't they together?””
“He was planning to marry her. But his family disapproved. They thought Clara was too young and had nothing to offer.””
“What happened after she became pregnant?””
“Daniel wanted to marry her immediately. But his family arranged for him to work overseas. He left believing he would return before you were born.””
“And he never did?””
Eleanor shook her head.
“Richard told us Daniel had died.””
I looked at her.
“Did you see proof?””
“No. Your father showed us a letter. It supposedly came from Daniel's employer.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Another lie.””
She nodded.
“Clara died believing Daniel had abandoned her.””
The room went quiet.
Then Eleanor looked at me.
“Marcus, I want you to understand something. Whatever happened between Daniel and Clara, he wasn't the person who raised you. Richard was.””
I stared at the floor.
“Richard also lied to me every day.””
“I know.””
“He stole my childhood. He stole yours. He stole Grandpa's money.””
Eleanor reached for my hand.
“Your father made terrible choices. But don't let his choices decide the kind of man you become.””
I looked at her.
“I won't.””
The following afternoon, I was preparing to book my flight when my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice came through.
“Marcus Hayes?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Jonathan Pierce.””
I stood immediately.
Patricia's former business partner.
“How did you get my number?””
“Your grandfather gave it to me years ago. I never thought I'd have a reason to use it.””
“What do you want?””
“To tell you the truth before Victoria destroys the evidence.””
I frowned.
“What evidence?””
There was a long pause.
Then Jonathan spoke.
“Your father didn't arrange Daniel Mercer's disappearance alone.””
I gripped the phone.
“Who helped him?””
“Victoria.””
I closed my eyes.
“Why?””
“Because Daniel was preparing to expose the financial fraud. But there was something else.””
“What?””
Jonathan lowered his voice.
“Daniel knew that Richard wasn't simply stealing your inheritance. He knew Richard had been using your identity to sign business contracts since you were a child.””
My stomach tightened.
“That's impossible.””
“Not anymore. Your signature was forged on documents worth millions.””
I sat down.
“Why are you telling me this now?””
“Because I have the originals.””
“Where?””
“At a storage facility outside Chicago.””
I grabbed a pen.
“Give me the address.””
Jonathan didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he said something that made the room feel suddenly cold.
“Marcus, before you come looking for those documents, check your father's old company office.””
“Why?””
“Because someone has been inside it recently.””
“Who?””
“I saw her myself.””
“Who, Jonathan?””
He exhaled.
May you like
“Victoria.””
Then the call ended.
