Chapter 6: The Doctor's Letter
Dad didn't sleep that night.
I knew because every time I woke up, the light beneath his bedroom door was still on.
At 2:13 a.m., I heard him walking downstairs.
At 3:05, I heard the printer running.
And at 4:20, I heard him say Linda's name.
Not angrily.
Not loudly.
Just quietly, like someone trying to understand how a person could do something so terrible.
The next morning, he told me we were going somewhere.
"Where?""
"To see someone who might help us understand what's happening.""
I put on my yellow sweater.
He checked my backpack twice before we left.
Linda was still upstairs.
Dad didn't wake her.
The woman's name was Patricia.
She was Linda's mother.
She lived in a small house twenty minutes away, with flowerpots beside the front steps and a white cat that slept on the windowsill.
When she opened the door, her eyes immediately filled with tears.
"Oh, Emily.""
She knelt and opened her arms.
I hesitated.
I knew her.
She had visited us several times after Noah was born.
She always brought cookies and called me sweetheart.
But Linda had once told me that Patricia thought I was spoiled.
I wasn't sure what to believe anymore.
Patricia noticed my hesitation.
"That's okay, darling. You don't have to hug me.""
Dad stepped forward.
"Patricia, we need to talk.""
She nodded.
"Come inside.""
We sat in her living room.
A framed photograph of Linda as a little girl stood on the mantel.
Patricia looked at it for a moment before turning back to Dad.
"I should have spoken sooner.""
Dad crossed his arms.
"Why didn't you?""
She looked down.
"Because Linda is my daughter.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"And Emily is my daughter.""
Patricia nodded.
"I know.""
She reached for a folder beside her chair.
"This is what I wanted you to see.""
Inside were several documents.
The first was a letter from a medical clinic.
The second was a handwritten note.
The third was a printed email.
Dad picked up the clinic letter.
It had my name at the top.
*Patient: Emily Parker.*
I leaned closer.
I recognized the name of the clinic.
It was where Noah had gone for his routine checkups.
Dad read the letter.
His eyebrows drew together.
"What is this?""
Patricia folded her hands.
"Linda asked me to help arrange an appointment for Emily.""
Dad looked up.
"Why?""
"She said Emily was having emotional difficulties. She claimed Emily was becoming aggressive toward Noah and refusing to follow basic instructions.""
I stared at the paper.
I had never been aggressive toward Noah.
I had spent months trying to keep him happy.
Dad continued reading.
The letter mentioned anxiety, behavioral concerns, and a recommendation for further evaluation.
But there was something strange.
At the bottom, the document stated that I had been examined by a doctor.
Dad looked at Patricia.
"Did Emily attend this appointment?""
Patricia shook her head.
"No.""
Dad stared at the letter.
"Then how did this get written?""
Patricia took a breath.
"Linda told the clinic she was Emily's legal guardian and described the problems at home. She said you were aware of the appointment.""
Dad's face turned red.
"She isn't her legal guardian.""
"I know.""
"She didn't have permission to arrange a medical assessment without me knowing?""
Patricia looked uncomfortable.
"I don't know what the clinic's procedures were. But I know Emily never went there.""
Dad placed the letter down.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
Patricia began crying.
"Because Linda told me you were struggling with Emily. She said you were considering sending her to a specialist school.""
Dad shook his head.
"I never said that.""
"She told me you were worried Emily might hurt Noah.""
I felt sick.
Dad reached for my hand.
"That's not true.""
Patricia looked at me.
"I know that now, sweetheart.""
Dad examined the email.
It had been sent by Linda to Patricia three weeks earlier.
The subject line read:
Emily's future.
Dad read it silently.
Then he read it again.
His hands began trembling.
"What does it say?"" he asked.
Patricia looked at me.
"Perhaps Emily should go play in the garden.""
Dad shook his head.
"She's staying.""
He read the email aloud.
"Mark is becoming increasingly difficult to convince. Emily needs more supervision than he realizes. Once the school accepts that she has behavioral issues, it will be easier to arrange a different living situation. I can't keep sacrificing Noah's childhood for a child who refuses to cooperate.""
The room became silent.
I looked at Dad.
He couldn't meet my eyes.
Patricia wiped her cheeks.
"There's more.""
She took another sheet from the folder.
"This is a message Linda sent me last week.""
Dad read it.
His face became expressionless.
The message said that Linda had found a distant relative willing to take Emily temporarily.
The relative lived several states away.
She had apparently told Linda that she could help if there were genuine family difficulties.
But the relative didn't know about the school absences.
She didn't know about the accusations.
And she certainly didn't know that I was being sent away because Linda wanted me out of the house.
Dad put the paper down.
"Who is this relative?""
Patricia hesitated.
"Linda's cousin, Denise.""
"Does Denise know Emily is eight?""
"Of course.""
"Does she know why Linda wants to send her there?""
Patricia shook her head.
"No.""
Dad stood.
He walked to the window and stared outside.
For a long time, he didn't speak.
Then he turned.
"Did Linda tell you anything else?""
Patricia nodded.
"She said she was worried you would eventually choose Emily over her.""
Dad's face tightened.
"Choose her over what?""
"Over the life you were building together.""
Patricia looked at me.
"She said she couldn't start a new chapter with Noah while Emily was constantly reminding everyone of Sarah.""
I lowered my eyes.
I hadn't tried to remind anyone of Mom.
I simply missed her.
On the drive home, Dad kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my shoulder.
"Emily?""
"Yes?""
"Do you remember the first time Linda mentioned sending you away?""
I thought carefully.
Then I remembered something from a few weeks earlier.
Linda had been talking on the phone in the laundry room.
She had said, "She'll be much happier somewhere else.""
I had asked what she meant.
She told me she was talking about a new school.
"I heard her talking about another house," I whispered.
Dad looked at me.
"When?""
"Before Mrs. Collins came.""
"What did she say?""
"She said I would be happier somewhere else. And that Noah needed a fresh start.""
Dad tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Did she ever pack your things?""
I shook my head.
"Not that I saw.""
He nodded.
Then he pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car.
He turned toward me.
"I need you to listen carefully.""
I looked at him.
"Whatever happens, you are not going anywhere without me knowing. You are my little girl. Do you understand?""
I nodded.
He kissed my forehead.
"I should have protected you.""
I leaned against his arm.
For the first time, I felt like I could breathe.
When we returned home, Linda was waiting in the living room.
Her arms were folded.
"Where have you been?""
Dad placed the folder on the coffee table.
"With your mother.""
Linda's face changed.
"What?""
"She showed me the documents.""
Linda stared at the folder.
Then she looked at me.
"What did you tell him?""
I stepped behind Dad.
He moved in front of me.
"Don't speak to her like that.""
Linda laughed nervously.
"Mark, whatever Patricia told you, she's confused. She has no idea what happens in this house.""
Dad opened the folder.
"Did you arrange a medical assessment for Emily without telling me?""
Linda looked away.
"I was concerned.""
"Did Emily attend the appointment?""
"Not yet.""
"Then why does this letter say she was examined?""
Linda's lips parted.
She looked at the paper.
For the first time, she seemed genuinely frightened.
"I don't know.""
Dad placed another document on the table.
"And why were you arranging for her to live with Denise?""
Linda's expression hardened.
"Because someone has to think about Noah!""
Dad stared at her.
"Emily is not leaving this house.""
Linda's voice dropped.
"You can't keep choosing her over me.""
Dad answered immediately.
"This isn't about choosing.""
He pointed toward me.
"She's eight years old. She needed a father. And I wasn't there when she needed me.""
Linda shook her head.
"You don't understand what I've been dealing with.""
Dad looked at the folder.
"Then explain this.""
She didn't.
Instead, she walked upstairs.
A few minutes later, I heard her bedroom door close.
Dad called Mrs. Collins and asked her to arrange another meeting with Ms. Reynolds.
He also contacted the clinic to verify the medical letter.
By lunchtime, we had learned something else.
The clinic had no record of an examination.
The letter had not been issued by a doctor.
Someone had copied the clinic's logo onto a document and typed my name at the top.
Dad sat at the kitchen table, staring at the confirmation email.
I stood beside him.
"Does that mean I'm not sick?""
He looked up immediately.
"Sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with you.""
I nodded.
Then I asked:
"Does Linda know?""
Before Dad could answer, his phone rang.
It was Patricia.
He picked up.
"Hello?""
Her voice sounded frightened.
"Mark, you need to listen to me. I just found something in Linda's old email account.""
Dad stood.
"What?""
"She didn't just create that medical letter.""
A pause.
"She also sent a message to someone at the school claiming that you had agreed to give up your parental rights.""
Dad's face went completely white.
"That's impossible.""
"I know. But Mark...""
Patricia's voice broke.
"There's a document attached. It has your name on it.""
Dad looked at me.
Then he whispered:
May you like
"Someone forged my signature.""
And upstairs, behind the closed bedroom door, Linda was suddenly very quiet.
