Chapter 13 - THE NAME THAT WAS STOLEN
The next discovery came from Lauren.
She stared at the photograph longer than anyone else.
Then she said:
“That boy isn’t Dad.”
I looked closer.
She was right.
Thomas had shown me childhood photographs.
The child beside Edward looked different.
Different eyes.
Different chin.
Samuel whispered:
“Then who is he?”
Detective Santos began sorting the letters by date.
Ten minutes later, the truth emerged.
Helen Miller had been married before she met Thomas’s father.
Her first husband died young.
They had a son.
His name was Thomas.
The boy in the photograph.
“What happened to him?” Richard asked.
I suddenly remembered something Helen once told me.
She had lost a child.
A drowning.
“He died when he was five.”
Santos nodded.
“Then four years later, Helen had another son and gave him the same name.”
My Thomas.
The letters had referred to the first child.
Not my husband.
David exhaled.
“So Thomas wasn’t Edward’s son.”
“No.”
Ethan covered his face.
Lauren began crying again, but this time from relief so overwhelming she almost laughed.
Ethan looked at her.
Neither moved toward the other.
Too much had happened.
Detective Santos continued examining the letters.
“However, Edward clearly remained close to Helen.”
Richard nodded.
“She had worked for my father’s company.”
That explained Thomas’s summer job.
A family connection.
Not blood.
Lauren stood and walked toward the window.
For the first time all day, I saw my daughter without anger.
She simply looked tired.
I joined her.
“Mom.”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
Her voice sounded like a child again.
“The reason I asked you not to come wasn’t really Ethan.”
I waited.
“It wasn’t even his parents.”
“Then who?”
She wiped her face.
“Someone started sending me messages three months ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“What messages?”
“Anonymous ones.”
She pulled out her phone.
Photographs.
My small house.
My old car.
Me carrying groceries in work clothes.
Each image came with cruel captions.
Does Ethan know where you came from?
Imagine the Cole board members meeting this woman.
People will ask whether Lauren married Ethan for money.
My hands went cold.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was ashamed.”
“Of me?”
She shook her head.
Tears spilled down her face.
“Of myself.”
Ethan approached.
“Lauren, who sent these?”
“I didn’t know.”
Detective Santos took the phone.
“These weren’t sent from random numbers.”
She examined the metadata.
“One account was created using a recovery email.”
“Whose?” Richard asked.
Santos looked toward someone sitting across the room.
Evelyn.
Ethan’s mother.
Lauren whispered:
“You?”
Evelyn stood abruptly.
“No.”
Detective Santos turned the screen.
“The recovery address belongs to your personal foundation.”
Evelyn looked genuinely stunned.
“I didn’t create that account.”
Richard stared at her.
“Who has access?”
“My assistant.”
“What assistant?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Caroline Mercer.”
David’s face changed.
“My niece.”
And before anyone could speak, his phone rang.
He checked the screen.
May you like
Then whispered:
“It’s Caroline.”
