Chapter 5 - The Photograph)
Daniel drove.
Emma sat in the passenger seat.
Mom came despite the argument.
No one spoke during the first five minutes.
Caleb was still at soccer practice, and Daniel had texted a neighbor to pick him up afterward.
Emma kept staring at the photograph.
Michael Reed.
Her father.
Her actual father.
Alive.
He looked nothing like the ghost Emma had created from imagination.
He had Emma’s eyes.
That unsettled her more than anything.
“Is that him?” she asked.
Mom sat in the back seat.
“Yes.”
Daniel’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
Emma looked at him.
“When did you find out?”
“About four years ago.”
Emma laughed bitterly.
“Fantastic.”
“Emma.”
“No, seriously. Everyone got invited into the secret except me.”
Daniel glanced at her.
“I wanted Diane to tell you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid.”
Mom spoke from behind them.
“You don’t understand what he did.”
Emma turned.
“Then explain it.”
Mom looked out the window.
“When we separated, he followed me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“He never hit me.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Mom swallowed.
“He threatened to take you.”
Emma’s anger softened slightly.
“He said you belonged with him. He showed up at my work. He waited outside my apartment. He called relatives.”
Emma listened.
“For months I couldn’t sleep.”
“Did you call police?”
“Yes.”
“Was he arrested?”
“Once.”
“For what?”
“Violating a restraining order.”
Emma looked back at Michael’s photograph.
“Why tell me he died?”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“Because I wanted him gone.”
The honesty was more painful than another lie.
“I changed our last name. We moved. He eventually stopped trying.”
“Because he thought you had disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“And the medical letter?”
Mom looked down.
“That came before.”
“You knew he had a clotting disorder.”
“Yes.”
Emma waited.
Mom whispered, “Factor V Leiden.”
Emma knew the words only because she had searched them at school after seeing Caleb’s photograph.
A genetic mutation.
Increased risk of abnormal blood clots.
Sometimes people never had a problem.
Sometimes they did.
“Why wasn’t I tested?”
Mom’s voice cracked.
“You were five when the letter arrived. Then eight. Then twelve. Every year I thought I would deal with it later.”
“Later.”
“I convinced myself his doctors were being overly cautious.”
“You knew I started birth control.”
“Yes.”
“You filled the prescription.”
“I didn’t connect the two.”
Emma stared at her.
“How could you not?”
“Because I spent years forcing myself not to think about him.”
Daniel interrupted quietly.
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
Mom looked at him.
“I know.”
Emma turned toward the window.
They were three blocks from urgent care.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Emma answered before anyone could stop her.
“Hello?”
A man breathed on the other end.
“Emma?”
Her whole body went rigid.
The voice was older than she expected.
Unsteady.
“Michael?”
Mom leaned forward.
“Hang up.”
Emma held up one hand.
The man spoke quickly.
“Listen to me. If you have chest pain, shortness of breath or pain in one leg, you need an emergency department, not urgent care.”
Emma looked at Daniel.
He heard it.
Daniel immediately turned the car away from the urgent care entrance.
Mom grabbed the back of Emma’s seat.
“Do not listen to him.”
Michael heard her.
His voice changed.
“Diane.”
Mom went silent.
Eighteen years seemed to enter the car at once.
Michael spoke again.
“I warned you.”
Mom’s face crumpled.
Daniel accelerated toward the hospital.
Emma held the phone tighter.
“How did you get my number?”
Michael hesitated.
“That’s complicated.”
“Try.”
“I’ve been trying to find you for years.”
Mom whispered, “He is lying.”
Michael continued.
“I found your social media account two months ago.”
“How did you know I was sick?”
Another pause.
This one was longer.
“I didn’t.”
Emma felt cold.
“What?”
“I sent the warning because of our family history.”
“Then why now?”
Silence.
“Michael?”
“I heard you were taking medication that can raise clot risk.”
Mom leaned forward.
“How could you possibly know that?”
Michael did not answer.
Daniel glanced at Emma.
The hospital appeared ahead.
“Who told you?” Emma demanded.
Michael lowered his voice.
“Emma, there is more happening than your mother knows.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just get checked.”
“Who told you about my medication?”
The call disconnected.
Emma stared at the screen.
Daniel pulled beneath the emergency entrance.
“Inside. Now.”
Emma opened the door.
She took three steps.
Then stopped.
Her chest squeezed hard enough to make her gasp.
Daniel grabbed her arm.
“Emma?”
She breathed slowly.
The pain eased.
Mom rushed around the car.
“We’re here.”
Emma looked toward the automatic doors.
People passed through them.
Nurses.
Patients.
Families.
She was less than fifty feet away.
Then her phone vibrated again.
Michael had sent one final message.
Do not tell anyone at the hospital my name until you know who accessed your records.
Emma read it twice.
May you like
And instead of frightening her into action, it frightened her in exactly the wrong direction.
She stopped walking.
