Chapter 10 - THE LETTER
The letter had been written by my grandfather.
Charles Whitmore.
Eleven years before his death.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Daniel,
If you are reading this, then Richard has finally failed to keep the past buried.
My father turned away.
I kept reading.
You were always told your father was weak.
He was.
But not in the way you think.
Richard’s weakness was love.
Mine was pride.
I had spent my entire life believing those were opposites.
I was wrong.
I stopped.
Evelyn watched me.
Natalie stood near the door.
My father leaned against the wall.
The letter continued.
I did not approve of your mother.
She challenged me.
She refused money.
She refused to disappear.
Worst of all, Richard chose her over me.
So I decided to teach them both what happens when family loyalty is broken.
My stomach turned.
I arranged for Marcus Dale to frighten Evelyn.
I did not order him to harm you.
That sentence will not absolve me.
It should not.
The accident was my fault.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
My father made a sound like a man trying not to sob.
I continued.
When I learned you had been injured, I intended to confess.
Victor convinced me confession would destroy the family.
So we created another solution.
A solution.
That was what he called stealing a mother from her child.
Victor bribed Dr. Reeves.
My father whispered, “Jesus.”
The letter confirmed it all.
Then came the part that changed everything again.
Michael learned the truth and threatened to expose me.
I framed him for theft using company transfers I had already authorized.
He fled before I could have him arrested.
If Michael is still alive when this letter is found, know this:
He hates me.
He may hate Richard.
But he loved you.
I stopped.
“Loved me?”
Margaret whispered, “Michael was your godfather.”
My head snapped up.
“What?”
“He was there when you were born.”
My mother nodded.
“He adored you.”
I continued reading.
There is one final truth Richard does not know.
Victor does.
And Michael does.
My father looked up.
My pulse hammered.
I read the next line.
Richard Whitmore is not Daniel’s biological father.
Nobody breathed.
Natalie whispered, “Oh my God.”
My father stared at me.
“No.”
Evelyn went completely still.
I looked at her.
“Mom?”
She shook her head slowly.
“No.”
“You knew?”
“No.”
My father grabbed the letter.
“This is another one of his games.”
He read the line himself.
Then again.
His face collapsed.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Who is my father?”
“Richard.”
“Biologically.”
“I don’t know what Charles meant.”
My father turned on her.
“Did you sleep with someone else?”
She slapped him.
The sound echoed through the vault room.
“You do not get to question my loyalty after what you did.”
He held his cheek.
She continued.
“You were the only man I was with.”
Agent Grant stepped forward.
“There may be another explanation.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Paternity records can be falsified. So can letters.”
I wanted to believe that.
Then Ethan picked up one of the folders.
“Daniel.”
Inside was a DNA report.
Thirty years old.
Child: Daniel Whitmore.
Presumed father: Richard Whitmore.
Probability of paternity:
0.00%.
My father sat down.
I couldn’t feel my hands.
Natalie whispered, “Who ordered the test?”
Ethan flipped the page.
Charles Whitmore.
My grandfather.
Of course.
My mother stared at the report.
“That’s impossible.”
Then a voice came from the vault doorway.
“No.”
We all turned.
Victor Hale stood there with a bandage around his shoulder and a police escort behind him.
He looked at me.
“It isn’t impossible.”
My father stood.
“You should be in a hospital.”
Victor ignored him.
He looked directly at Evelyn.
“You were unconscious for nine days after the crash.”
She frowned.
“What does that have to do with Daniel’s paternity?”
Victor’s face twisted with shame.
“Nothing.”
He swallowed.
“Because the truth started years before the crash.”
I stepped closer.
“Who is my father?”
Victor looked at Richard.
May you like
Then at me.
“Michael.”
