Chapter 2: The Name
"Who is Daniel Mercer?""
I asked the question three times.
Emily didn't answer the first two.
She was sitting across from me at the kitchen table, both hands wrapped around a mug she'd stopped drinking from twenty minutes earlier.
Rain tapped against the window.
The house was painfully quiet.
Finally, she whispered, "You know him.""
"No, I don't.""
"Yes, you do.""
I stared at her.
"Emily, I have never heard that name in my life.""
She looked toward the hallway.
"That's what Mom wanted you to believe.""
My chest tightened.
"Start at the beginning.""
"I don't know where the beginning is.""
"Then start wherever you can.""
She swallowed.
"About six months ago, Mom started getting calls.""
"From Daniel?""
"I don't know. The number was blocked.""
"Did you see the messages?""
"Some.""
"What did they say?""
Emily shook her head.
"She deleted most of them.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because she begged me not to.""
I stood.
"Emily, I'm your father.""
"I know.""
"Then why protect her?""
"Because I thought she was in trouble.""
That stopped me.
"What kind of trouble?""
"I don't know.""
"Did someone threaten her?""
"I think so.""
I pulled out a chair and sat again.
"What makes you think that?""
Emily rubbed her thumb against the rim of the mug.
"One night I came home early. Mom was in the kitchen. She was crying.""
"What did she say?""
"Nothing at first.""
"And then?""
"She told me that if anyone ever asked about a man named Daniel, I should say I didn't know him.""
I stared at her.
"Why would she tell you that?""
"I asked her.""
"What did she say?""
Emily's voice dropped.
"She said, 'Because your father can't know.''"
The words seemed to echo around the kitchen.
I got up and walked to the sink.
For twenty-two years, I had believed I knew my wife's fears.
Storms.
Medical bills.
Growing old.
Our daughter leaving home.
Apparently there had been another category.
Me finding out the truth.
I turned around.
"Did Mom ever tell you who he was?""
"No.""
"Did she show you anything?""
Emily hesitated.
"What?""
She looked at me.
"She had a photograph.""
My pulse jumped.
"Where is it?""
"I don't know.""
"Emily.""
"I saw it once.""
"What was in it?""
"Mom. Daniel. And someone else.""
"Who?""
"I couldn't see his face.""
"How old was the picture?""
"Old.""
"How old?""
"Maybe twenty years.""
I felt cold.
"Are you sure?""
"Yes.""
I walked to the cabinet beside the refrigerator.
Claire kept old family photographs there.
Birthdays.
Christmas mornings.
Emily's first day of school.
Our wedding.
I opened the drawer.
Albums filled it.
I pulled out the oldest one.
Emily watched me.
"What are you doing?""
"Looking.""
"Looking for what?""
"Anything your mother forgot to hide.""
I flipped through photographs.
1999.
2000.
2001.
Our wedding.
Claire in a simple white dress.
Me with ridiculous hair.
Emily's first ultrasound.
Her first birthday.
Then a photograph fell onto the floor.
I picked it up.
My fingers went numb.
It was a picture of Claire standing beside a man.
The photograph was old and slightly faded.
Claire looked younger.
Much younger.
The man was smiling.
I recognized him.
Not because I'd known him personally.
Because I'd seen his face before.
At work.
On television.
In newspapers.
I looked at Emily.
"That's Daniel Mercer.""
She nodded.
"I told you.""
"No.""
I turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
My wife's handwriting.
*Portland, June 2003.*
Below it, one sentence.
*He promised he'd never come back.*
I stared at the words.
"June 2003.""
Emily nodded slowly.
"That's what I thought.""
"What?""
"You were out of town that weekend.""
I looked at her.
"How do you know that?""
"Mom told me once.""
My mind started moving through old memories.
June 2003.
I remembered the conference.
Three days in Seattle.
Claire had stayed home with Emily, who was four years old.
I remembered calling every night.
I remembered Claire telling me she missed me.
I remembered coming home to flowers on the kitchen table.
I remembered kissing her.
I remembered believing I had come home to my family.
"Emily.""
"What?""
"Was Daniel in Portland that weekend?""
She looked down.
"I think so.""
"How do you know?""
"Because Mom said she met him here.""
My stomach twisted.
I turned the photograph over again.
*He promised he'd never come back.*
"What happened in 2003?""
"I don't know.""
"You have to know something.""
"I don't.""
"Emily, your mother left me with twenty thousand dollars missing and a photograph of a man she told you to hide from me.""
"I know.""
"Then help me.""
She finally looked up.
"I think Mom was scared of Daniel.""
"Why?""
"I don't know.""
"Did he contact her recently?""
"Yes.""
"How do you know?""
"Because I saw the messages.""
"What did they say?""
Emily's hands started shaking.
"One said, 'You can't keep the past buried forever.''"
My mouth went dry.
"What else?""
"Another said, 'Twenty thousand is only the beginning.''"
I stared at her.
The room suddenly felt colder.
"So the money wasn't for a fresh start.""
"No.""
"It was for him.""
"I think so.""
I picked up the photograph.
"Then why would she send him money?""
Emily didn't answer.
She reached into her bag.
"I have something.""
She placed her phone on the table.
There was a photograph on the screen.
A document.
Old.
Folded.
Stamped.
I leaned closer.
"What is that?""
"A hospital record.""
My eyes moved across the page.
Patient:
*Claire Bennett.*
Date:
*June 17, 2003.*
I looked at Emily.
"Why would your mother have a hospital record from 2003?""
"I don't know.""
I read the next line.
Then I stopped.
The room seemed to tilt.
There was a second name beneath Claire's.
*Emergency Contact: Daniel Mercer.*
I looked at the date again.
June 17.
My trip to Seattle had been June 16 through June 19.
I felt something inside me crack.
"Emily.""
"Yeah?""
"Why was your mother in a hospital while I was gone?""
She started crying.
"I don't know.""
I stood so quickly the chair scraped across the floor.
"Where did you get this?""
"Mom's bedroom.""
"Anything else?""
Emily nodded.
"There was an envelope.""
"Where?""
"I didn't take it.""
"Why?""
"Because Mom caught me.""
My heart pounded.
"What happened?""
"She told me to leave.""
"What was inside?""
"I saw the top of one page.""
"What page?""
Emily wiped her eyes.
"A birth certificate.""
I froze.
"What?""
"A birth certificate.""
"For who?""
She looked directly at me.
"I don't know.""
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
*Stop looking for Claire.*
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
*You really don't want to know what happened in June 2003.*
Emily whispered, "Dad…"
I looked at her.
May you like
The third message arrived.
*Ask your wife why Daniel Mercer was listed as the father.*
