Chapter 5: The Man in the Photograph
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
“That's impossible,” I said.
Ethan looked down at the notebook.
“I knew you'd say that.””
“I was home the night Claire died. I remember getting the call. I remember driving to the hospital. I remember—”
I stopped.
A memory flickered at the edge of my mind.
Rain against a windshield.
A ringing phone.
A road sign illuminated by headlights.
Then nothing.
The memory vanished before I could grasp it.
Ethan watched my face.
“Dad, are you okay?””
I forced myself to breathe.
“I need you to explain exactly what you saw.””
He sat on the bottom step.
“I remember Mom driving. I remember the car near the trees. Then I saw a man standing outside it. He was wearing a dark coat.””
“Could you see his face?””
“Not clearly. But when he turned toward the headlights, I saw him.””
“And you think it was me?””
Ethan nodded.
I shook my head.
“No. You were five years old. You could have mistaken someone for me.””
“I thought that too. Until I saw the photograph Emily found.””
He opened the notebook and pulled out a small, creased print.
My breath caught.
It showed a stretch of country road at night. A damaged car sat near the shoulder, its driver's door open. Two figures stood beside it.
One was Vanessa.
The other wore a dark coat.
Even through the grainy image, I recognized the man's face.
It was mine.
But the photograph had been taken twelve years ago, on the night Claire died.
“I don't remember this,” I whispered.
Ethan's voice was barely audible.
“Mom said you wouldn't.””
I took the photograph and turned it over.
On the back, someone had written a date and a time: 12:47 A.M.
Claire's accident had officially been reported at 1:18 A.M.
I remembered the police telling me she had been found shortly after midnight. I remembered being asked where I had been. I remembered saying I was home.
Had I been mistaken?
Had I lied?
Or had someone made certain that I remembered the night exactly as they wanted me to?
My phone rang.
This time, the number was familiar.
Detective Laura Bennett.
She had handled the initial police inquiry into Emily's fall.
“Mr. Carter,” she said, “I need you to come to the station.””
“Has something happened to Emily?””
“No. She's stable. This concerns the evidence collected at your home.””
“What evidence?””
“We found blood on the stair railing and a torn piece of fabric near the landing. Your wife says your stepson was involved in the confrontation.””
I looked at Ethan.
“She says that?””
“Yes. She has given us a statement claiming Ethan attacked Emily after an argument about the photographs.””
Ethan shook his head violently.
“That's a lie!””
“I believe you,” I told him.
But the detective was still speaking.
“Mr. Carter, there's another issue. Your wife says you were present at the scene of Claire's accident.””
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What?””
“She claims you drove to the location that night and argued with Claire shortly before the crash.””
I stared at the photograph.
“That's not possible.””
“Then you should have no difficulty helping us establish where you were.””
The call ended with instructions to meet her at the station.
Ethan stood up.
“She knows about the photograph.””
“Who?””
“Mom. She knows you found it.””
“How?””
He looked at me as though the answer should have been obvious.
“Because she has the original.””
I felt sick.
The photograph in my hand was a copy.
And if Vanessa had the original, she might know what had happened before the picture was taken.
We drove to the hospital first.
Emily had been moved to a private room. A police officer stood outside her door, and a nurse was checking the monitor beside her bed.
When Emily saw me, she started crying.
“Dad!””
I crossed the room and took her hand carefully.
“I'm here, sweetheart.””
She looked past me.
“Where's Ethan?””
“Right here.””
Ethan approached the bed, keeping his hands visible, as though he was afraid someone might accuse him of hurting her again.
Emily's face crumpled.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered.
He stared at her.
“For what?””
“I told the police you pushed me.””
Ethan sat down beside her.
“Why?””
Emily looked toward the door.
“Because Mom told me you'd done it.””
“Did you believe her?””
Emily hesitated.
“I didn't know what to believe. Everything happened so quickly. I remember arguing with her.
I remember you coming into the kitchen. Then I remember falling.””
She looked at me.
“But I didn't see who pushed me.””
My stomach tightened.
“Emily, did you see Vanessa holding a photograph?””
Her eyes widened.
“Yes.””
“What was on it?””
“I don't know. She kept it turned toward herself. But when I tried to take it, she said I'd never understand what happened to Claire.””
Emily squeezed my fingers.
“Dad, she knew Mom before you met her. She lied about everything.””
I nodded.
“I'm beginning to understand that.””
“No.”” Emily's voice became urgent.
“You don't understand. She said Claire was going to expose someone. She said she had to stop her before she destroyed our family.””
“Did she say who Claire was going to expose?””
Emily shook her head.
Then she looked at Ethan.
“But she said the person who really knew what happened that night was standing right in front of her.””
Ethan went pale.
“Me?””
Emily nodded.
“She said you were the only witness left.””
I felt a cold pressure behind my ribs.
Before I could respond, Detective Bennett entered the room.
“Mr. Carter, I'm sorry to interrupt. Emily, I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you're feeling up to it.””
Emily nodded.
The detective took a seat near the bed.
“Emily, did you see anyone push you?””
“No.””
“Did Ethan touch you?””
“No.””
“Did Vanessa touch you?””
Emily stared at the blanket.
“She grabbed my arm. Then she told me I was going to regret opening that envelope.””
The detective wrote something down.
“What envelope?””
Emily looked at me.
“The one hidden behind the drawer.””
Detective Bennett stopped writing.
“You found a letter?””
“Several,” I said.
“Written by my first wife, Claire.””
“Do you still have them?””
“Yes.””
“Mr. Carter, I need you to preserve those letters and turn them over to us. Do not alter them or discuss their contents with anyone who may be involved.””
I nodded.
Then she placed a clear evidence sleeve on the bedside table.
Inside was a small photograph.
“Does this look familiar to either of you?””
Emily stared at it.
Then she began to cry.
It was the same country road. The same damaged car.
But this photograph had been taken from a different angle.
And standing beside the open driver's door was a woman with Claire's face.
Emily whispered, “That's not possible.””
The detective looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because that's the picture Mom said she'd burned.””
I leaned forward.
“Emily, what do you mean?””
She pointed to the photograph.
“That's Claire. But look at the passenger window.””
I followed her finger.
There was a reflection in the glass.
A second person sat inside the car.
A person whose face was turned directly toward the camera.
I recognized him immediately.
It was Ethan.
Not the seventeen-year-old sitting beside the bed.
The five-year-old Ethan.
The boy Vanessa had claimed was asleep at home.
Detective Bennett stared at the photograph.
Then she turned to me.
“Mr. Carter, I need to ask you something, and I need an honest answer.””
I could barely speak.
“What?””
“Did you know your stepson was in Claire's car the night she died?””
Before I could answer, Ethan stood up.
“Yes,” he said.
We all turned toward him.
His face was wet with tears.
“I was in the car,” he continued.
“But there's something else you need to know.””
May you like
He looked at me.
“I wasn't the only child there.””
