Chapter 11: The Life They Erased
Michael's office smelled of old paper and coffee.
I arrived at 4:30 p.m., carrying the wedding photograph in my jacket pocket.
Thomas had stayed at the hospital with Maya.
Before leaving, I had spoken to Sergeant Brooks and requested additional protection.
I didn't know who to trust anymore.
Michael was waiting with three folders spread across his desk.
"Daniel, sit down.""
I remained standing.
"Tell me everything.""
He opened the first folder.
"Your marriage to Laura Bennett was registered when you were twenty-three. You had a son, Ethan, two years later.""
He placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed me holding a baby.
A woman stood beside me.
Laura.
She had brown hair, a gentle smile, and a small scar near her chin.
I stared at the picture.
Something stirred inside my head.
A hospital room.
A baby crying.
A woman laughing.
Then it vanished.
"Why don't I remember her?""
Michael folded his hands.
"Your medical records indicate that you suffered a serious head injury eleven years ago.""
I looked at him.
"What?""
"You were involved in a car accident. You spent several weeks in the hospital.""
I rubbed my forehead.
I remembered an accident.
Rain.
Headlights.
A terrible noise.
But I had always believed it happened when I was a teenager.
Michael slid another document toward me.
"Your medical file states that you experienced significant memory loss.""
"Why wasn't I told about my marriage?""
"According to the records, your wife requested that certain personal details be withheld until you recovered.""
I stared at him.
"Laura?""
He nodded.
"She was told that forcing memories could worsen your condition.""
"Where was my son?""
"With her.""
"Then why did I marry Rachel?""
Michael hesitated.
"Because Laura disappeared from your life.""
I stared at him.
"Disappeared?""
"She left town several months after your accident. There was a legal document indicating that she had voluntarily relinquished custody of Ethan.""
I grabbed the paper.
The signature looked familiar.
Too familiar.
It was my handwriting.
Or someone had copied it.
"Did I sign this?""
Michael pointed to the date.
"You were still hospitalized.""
I looked up.
"Then how?""
Michael didn't answer.
I pushed the document aside.
"Who arranged it?""
He opened the second folder.
A name appeared.
Gregory Shaw.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Gregory was involved?""
"According to the records, he represented Laura during the custody proceedings.""
"Why would he do that?""
"Because he was already connected to Vanessa's family.""
Michael placed another document on the desk.
It was a bank transfer.
A large payment from an account belonging to Eleanor Carter.
The recipient was a company registered under Gregory's name.
The date was eleven years earlier.
The same year Ethan disappeared.
I leaned forward.
"How much?""
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.""
I stared at the number.
"Was that payment connected to my son?""
"That's what I believe.""
I stood and walked toward the window.
Outside, people were crossing the street, buying groceries, carrying shopping bags.
Ordinary people living ordinary lives.
I envied them.
My wife had died.
My daughter had been threatened.
My niece had been taken.
My mother-in-law might be alive.
And now I had discovered that I had once had a wife and son whose existence had been erased from my memory.
"Michael, where is Laura?""
He opened the third folder.
"Her last known address was in Portland.""
"Was?""
"She died eight years ago.""
I closed my eyes.
"How?""
"An apparent overdose.""
I gripped the window frame.
"Did anyone investigate?""
"Local police. The report was closed.""
I turned.
"Who handled the report?""
Michael checked the paperwork.
Then his face changed.
"Detective Robert Harlan.""
I laughed once.
A bitter, broken sound.
"Of course.""
Michael continued.
"Daniel, there's something else. Laura left a statement with a social worker shortly before she died.""
He handed me a copy.
I began reading.
If anything happens to me, please make sure Ethan stays away from Eleanor Carter. She has already taken one child from this family. She will not stop until she controls them all.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
"One child?""
Michael nodded.
"She may have been referring to Ethan.""
I shook my head.
"No. She said one child had already been taken.""
I thought about James.
The supposed car accident.
Sophie's guardianship.
Rachel's fear.
Then I remembered something.
"Michael, what happened to James after his accident?""
He checked the file.
"He died at the scene.""
"Who identified the body?""
"His mother, Eleanor.""
"Was there a DNA test?""
Michael looked up.
"I don't see one.""
I stared at him.
"What if James never died?""
Michael didn't respond.
I returned to the desk and looked at the photographs.
Ethan.
James.
Rachel.
Vanessa.
Gregory.
All of them were connected by a family secret that had been buried for years.
Then my phone rang.
Sergeant Brooks.
"Daniel, we found something in Dr. Pierce's medical bag.""
"What?""
"A second hospital identification bracelet.""
I stood.
"Whose name?""
She hesitated.
"Laura Bennett.""
My chest tightened.
"Laura is dead.""
"That's what her records say.""
"What are you telling me?""
Brooks lowered her voice.
"The bracelet was issued three days ago. Someone has been admitted to a private medical facility under Laura Bennett's name.""
I felt dizzy.
"Where?""
"An abandoned rehabilitation center outside the city. We're checking it now.""
I gripped the desk.
"Could it be her?""
"We don't know yet.""
Then Brooks added:
"There's something else. We found a photograph in the same bag.""
"What photograph?""
"Of you.""
I waited.
"Taken outside your daughter's hospital room this morning.""
My blood ran cold.
Someone had been watching me.
Brooks continued.
"On the back, there are handwritten instructions.""
"What do they say?""
She paused.
Then read them aloud.
*If Daniel remembers Ethan, bring him to the house.*
I swallowed.
"What house?""
"The old Carter family residence.""
The house where Eleanor had supposedly died.
The house where Rachel had grown up.
The house Vanessa now claimed belonged to her.
I looked at Michael.
He was already standing.
"Daniel, don't go there," he said.
But I was no longer listening.
My phone vibrated again.
A text message from an unknown number.
There was a photograph of a young man sitting in a dark room.
His face was bruised.
His hands were tied.
He was looking directly at the camera.
May you like
Beneath the photograph were four words.
*YOUR SON IS ALIVE.*
