Chapter 3 - WHAT MY MOTHER TOLD JACOB VALE
Mom stood so abruptly the lamp beside her shook.
“That is not what happened.”
Dad’s expression hardened.
“You told him.”
“I didn’t know what Jacob was going to do!”
Leo looked frightened now.
I moved beside him.
“Start at the beginning.”
Mom stared at me.
For a moment, I saw the woman behind the screen door ten years ago.
Crying.
Silent.
Unable to choose between fear and action.
Apparently she had been that woman longer than I knew.
“Daniel came to the house that afternoon,” she said.
“What?”
“You were at class.”
I had no memory of this.
“He asked for your father.”
“Dad was at work.”
“I told him that.”
“What did Daniel say?”
“That he needed to speak with Tom privately.”
She twisted her hands together.
“He looked scared.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“No.”
“Then how did Vale become involved?”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Jacob called about an hour later.”
Of course he did.
Jacob Vale had been in our home dozens of times.
He brought wine at Christmas.
Sent Mom flowers after her biopsy.
Dad called him his closest friend.
“He asked whether Daniel had stopped by.”
“And you said yes.”
Mom nodded.
“What else?”
“He asked whether Daniel mentioned where he was going.”
I felt cold.
“Did he?”
“Daniel said he might wait at the old warehouse until your father finished.”
Dad whispered a curse.
Mom started crying harder.
“I thought Jacob wanted to find him because he had missed a shift.”
“You told Vale Daniel was at the warehouse.”
“I didn’t know!”
“But afterward?”
She looked at me.
“What?”
“After it burned.”
Mom stared at the floor.
“Didn’t you wonder?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell investigators?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Your father told me Daniel hadn’t been there.”
Dad turned sharply.
“I told you that after the federal agent spoke to me.”
“Yes.”
“Then you knew Vale had been looking for a man who supposedly died in the place you sent him.”
Mom covered her face.
“I was terrified.”
That word again.
Fear.
The family inheritance.
My parents had built their lives around fear and called it responsibility.
I spent ten years believing they threw me away because they were strong in their convictions.
Now I was beginning to understand they had been afraid of almost everything.
Vale.
Scandal.
Money.
The neighbors.
The unknown father of my child.
Me.
Mom lowered her hands.
“When you told us you were pregnant and refused to name the father, I thought…”
She stopped.
“What?”
“I wondered if it was Daniel.”
My chest tightened.
“You suspected?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you demand I end the pregnancy?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because if Jacob discovered Daniel had left behind a child—”
Dad stared at her.
“You never told me this.”
She ignored him.
“I thought the baby could put you in danger.”
I stood.
“You told me to end my pregnancy to protect me?”
“I was panicking.”
“You could have told me that.”
“I didn’t know if you knew anything about Vale!”
“So instead you stood behind the door while Dad threw me out?”
“I thought you would go to your aunt.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
“How?”
That stopped her.
“What do you mean?”
“You just said you know.”
Mom became very still.
I took one step toward her.
“You knew I didn’t go to Aunt Kathy.”
Dad looked at Mom.
“Linda?”
Her first name sounded like an accusation in his mouth.
I remembered sleeping my first three nights in my car before a college friend named Marissa took me in.
No one from my family came.
No one called.
At least, that was what I believed.
Mom sat again.
“I followed you.”
My anger vanished into shock.
“What?”
“The night you left.”
Dad whispered, “You did what?”
“I followed her.”
“How far?”
“To the gas station near Route 23.”
I remembered stopping there.
Crying so hard I could barely see.
Mom had been somewhere behind me.
Watching again.
Always watching.
Never stepping in.
“I saw you sleeping in the car.”
My throat tightened.
“And you went home.”
“I was afraid if you saw me, you’d ask to come back.”
I stared at her.
“That might be the worst thing you’ve said today.”
She started sobbing.
“I know.”
“No. You know now.”
Leo reached for my hand.
I squeezed his.
Dad looked disgusted.
Not at me.
At her.
Then Mom whispered:
“I came back the next morning.”
I froze.
“What?”
“You were gone.”
“I drove to Marissa’s.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Mom wiped her face.
“Because I found you again.”
Every nerve in my body went cold.
“You knew where I was?”
“For two weeks.”
Dad stood.
“You told me you had no idea!”
Mom started shaking.
“I thought distance was safer.”
I stared at her.
Ten years of silence suddenly felt less accidental.
“How long did you know where I lived?”
She couldn’t look at me.
“Longer than two weeks.”
“How long?”
“Until you left Ohio.”
I almost stopped breathing.
Then she said the thing that shattered what little ground remained beneath us.
“And after you left, Daniel sent a letter to this house.”
Dad stared.
“What letter?”
May you like
Mom’s eyes closed.
“One addressed to Emma.”
