Chapter 2 - The Brother Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
I had spent eight months wondering why Daniel abandoned his son.
Now his brother was standing in my apartment hallway, looking as though he'd just seen a ghost.
"Your brother?" I whispered.
Ethan nodded.
"Daniel is my brother."
I stepped backward.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel told me his entire family was dead."
Ethan closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then Sam began crying again.
I held him tighter.
"I'm sorry, but I need to get him inside."
Ethan moved aside immediately.
"Of course."
My apartment was on the third floor of a building with unreliable heating and a staircase that smelled of old paint.
I expected Ethan to refuse to enter.
Instead, he quietly followed me upstairs carrying the food the restaurant had prepared.
When I unlocked my door, embarrassment washed over me.
The apartment was tiny.
One bedroom.
A secondhand couch.
A kitchen table with one broken chair.
Baby clothes drying over the radiator.
Ethan looked around without commenting.
I placed Sam in his playpen and began preparing his bottle.
"Daniel told me his parents died when he was young," I said.
Ethan stood near the window.
"Our parents did die. But not when we were children."
I looked up.
"He said he had no brothers or sisters."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Then he was hiding something."
I felt a familiar ache.
Daniel had been charming when we met.
Kind.
Funny.
He'd brought me flowers from the grocery store and told me I deserved a better life.
When I became pregnant, he'd promised we'd raise our child together.
Then one afternoon, he disappeared.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
Just an empty apartment and a disconnected phone.
"I thought he left because I was pregnant," I whispered.
Ethan looked at me.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because he disappeared two weeks after I told him."
Ethan's expression changed.
"Two weeks?"
I nodded.
"When exactly?"
I told him the date.
He went completely still.
"What's wrong?"
Ethan slowly sat down.
"Daniel disappeared from our family that same week."
My heart pounded.
"Disappeared?"
"His car was found abandoned near Lake Michigan. There was blood inside."
I stared.
"What?"
"The police investigated. We searched for months."
I felt sick.
"Are you saying he's dead?"
Ethan looked toward Sam.
"We don't know."
The room seemed to shrink around me.
All those nights I'd hated Daniel.
All those mornings I'd cried because he'd left me alone.
What if he hadn't chosen to leave?
"What happened to him?" I whispered.
Ethan shook his head.
"That's what I've been trying to find out."
Sam finished his bottle.
I lifted him from the playpen and held him against my shoulder.
Ethan watched us quietly.
Then Sam reached toward him.
A tiny hand stretched across the space between them.
Ethan froze.
I almost smiled.
"He does that when he likes someone."
Ethan hesitated.
"May I?"
I studied him.
This man controlled an organization that frightened half of Chicago.
But he was asking permission to hold a baby.
Slowly, I nodded.
Ethan took Sam carefully.
My son immediately grabbed his tie.
For one astonishing moment, Ethan smiled.
A real smile.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
"He looks like Daniel."
My throat tightened.
"People always said he looked like me."
"He has your eyes."
Ethan gently touched Sam's tiny fingers.
"But that smile..."
His voice broke.
"That's my brother."
I turned away before he could see me crying.
Then Ethan's phone rang.
He answered.
"Marco."
A pause.
His expression changed.
"Say that again."
I watched the warmth disappear from his face.
"When?"
Another pause.
Then Ethan looked directly at me.
"Norah, did Gregory ever ask about your son's father?"
I frowned.
"Yes."
"How often?"
"Several times. Why?"
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Because we just found something in Gregory's office."
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
He looked at Sam.
Then answered.
"A photograph of Daniel holding your son."
I stared.
"That's impossible."
Ethan's voice became quiet.
"The photograph was taken three weeks ago."
May you like
And suddenly, I realized something horrifying.
Daniel might still be alive.
