Chapter 3: The Summer I Couldn't Remember
I stared at my wife.
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard her.
"That's impossible.""
Aaliyah sat on the edge of the bed, holding our son against her chest.
"I wish it were.""
"I didn't know your brother.""
"You did.""
"No."" My voice rose.
"I've never met Jacob Brooks. I would remember something like that.""
She looked at me with such heartbreaking certainty that I suddenly wanted to leave the room.
I wanted to walk out, drive home, and return to the life I'd had before the name on that tiny hat shattered everything.
Instead, I stood beside the bed and waited.
Aaliyah took a deep breath.
"Do you remember the summer before college? The summer you went to Lake Mercer with Daniel and your friends?""
I frowned.
"Vaguely.""
"You came home three days later with a broken wrist and a scar above your left eyebrow.""
My fingers moved instinctively toward the thin white line above my eye.
I'd had that scar for as long as I could remember. My parents told me I'd fallen while climbing a fence.
"You told me you fell from a dock," Aaliyah continued.
"You said you'd been drinking, slipped on wet wood, and hit your head.""
I felt a cold sensation creep up my spine.
"That's what happened.""
"Is it?""
I looked away.
The memory was vague, like a photograph left too long in sunlight. I remembered a lake. A fire.
Daniel laughing. The sharp smell of gasoline.
Then nothing.
"I had a concussion," I said.
"The doctors told me I might not remember everything.""
"Yes.""
"So what are you suggesting?""
Aaliyah shifted the baby into her other arm.
"I'm telling you that Jacob was there.""
I shook my head.
"No.""
"He was Daniel's friend. He worked at the marina during the summers. He was twenty-four, and he was the one who found you after the accident.""
"Then why didn't anyone tell me?""
"Because your mother told everyone you'd been alone when you fell.""
I felt the room shrink around me.
"My mother?""
Aaliyah nodded.
"She said the truth would ruin your future. She said you were confused and that nobody should question your memory while you were recovering.""
I stared at the floor.
My mother, Margaret, had always been fiercely protective. After my accident, she'd refused to let me return to college for weeks. She'd sat beside my bed and fed me soup, telling me I was lucky to be alive.
I had never questioned her version of events.
"Why would she lie?""
Aaliyah's eyes filled with tears.
"Because Jacob didn't fall into the lake, Marcus.""
She looked at our son.
"Someone pushed him.""
The monitor beside her bed beeped steadily.
I could hear a cart rattling in the hallway.
Everything else seemed to disappear.
"Who pushed him?"" I asked.
Aaliyah shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"Then how can you say someone pushed him?""
"Because Jacob told me.""
I took a step back.
"When?""
"Two days before he died, he called me. He said he'd found something at the marina. Something involving money and your family.""
I frowned.
"My family?""
"He wouldn't tell me everything over the phone. He said he needed to meet me in person. But the next time I heard from him, he was dead.""
I sat down heavily in the chair.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"I was seventeen. My mother took my phone, told me Jacob had been drinking, and said the whole thing was an accident. When I tried to argue, she locked me in my room.""
"That doesn't make sense.""
"I know.""
"Then why did you marry me without telling me any of this?""
The question came out harsher than I'd intended.
Aaliyah lowered her head.
"Because when I met you, I didn't know who you were.""
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?""
"We met at a charity fundraiser. You introduced yourself as Marcus Reed. You were kind, funny, and you didn't seem to know anything about Jacob.
I thought..."" She swallowed.
"I thought maybe I could finally have a normal life.""
"You knew my last name.""
"Yes.""
"And you never thought to ask whether I remembered your brother?""
"I was afraid.""
"Of me?""
"Of what would happen if you remembered.""
I stood abruptly.
"So you married me because you thought I'd forgotten a crime?""
"No!"" She reached for my hand, but I pulled away.
"I married you because I loved you. I still love you.""
"Then why name our son after him?""
Aaliyah looked down at the tiny hat.
"Because Jacob saved your life.""
I couldn't speak.
She continued, her voice trembling.
"The night you fell, you weren't alone. Daniel said you'd been arguing with someone near the boat shed. Jacob went looking for you when he realized you hadn't come back. He found you in the water and pulled you onto the dock.""
I closed my eyes.
For a fraction of a second, I saw it.
Black water.
A hand gripping my shirt.
A voice shouting my name.
Then a terrible flash of pain behind my eyes.
I grabbed the edge of the chair.
"Stop.""
Aaliyah fell silent.
I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to hold on to the image.
"Who was I arguing with?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"Was it Daniel?""
"I don't know, Marcus.""
"Was it my father?""
Her expression changed.
That was when I knew she was hiding something else.
I stepped toward her.
"What?""
She looked at the door.
Then back at me.
"Jacob didn't die at the lake.""
I stared at her.
"What are you talking about? You just said—"
"He survived that night. He pulled you out of the water, then disappeared before the ambulance arrived. Nobody knew where he went.""
I felt my pulse hammering.
"But you said he died eleven years ago.""
"He did.""
"How?""
Aaliyah's face crumpled.
"Three days later, his body was found near the old railway bridge. The police said he'd drowned, but his lungs were clear. There was blood on the back of his head.""
I gripped the chair so hard my fingers hurt.
"Was there an investigation?""
"Briefly. My mother told them Jacob had a history of depression. She said he'd probably fallen from the bridge.""
"And you believed her?""
"No."" Aaliyah wiped her tears.
"But I had no proof, and everyone who knew what happened was too afraid to talk.""
I stared at my wife.
For eleven years, I'd believed the worst thing that had happened to me was losing three days of my memory.
Now I was beginning to understand that those missing days might have swallowed someone else's entire life.
I looked at our son.
"Why Jacob?""
Aaliyah brushed her finger across the baby's cheek.
"Because he gave you a second chance at life. And because I promised him something before he died.""
"What?""
She hesitated.
"That if I ever had a son, I'd make sure his name wasn't erased from this family.""
I sank into the chair.
For the first time, I understood why she'd been so afraid when I'd seen the hat.
The name wasn't an accusation.
It was a memorial.
But it was also a warning.
"Did Jacob leave anything behind?"" I asked.
Aaliyah nodded slowly.
"A letter. He gave it to me the night before he died.""
"Where is it?""
"My mother took it.""
"Then we get it back.""
Aaliyah shook her head.
"You don't understand. She didn't just take the letter. She took everything Jacob owned. His photographs, his journals, even the clothes he left at home.""
"Why?""
"Because he had evidence.""
"Evidence of what?""
Before she could answer, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I almost ignored it, but a message appeared on the screen.
*Stop asking about Jacob. You have a wife and a newborn son now. Let the dead stay dead.*
I read it twice.
Then another message arrived.
This one contained a photograph.
It showed a young man standing beside a lake, one hand resting on the hood of a red pickup truck.
I recognized the scar above his eyebrow.
My scar.
The man in the photograph was me, standing beside Jacob Brooks.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
The same date as the accident I'd spent eleven years trying to forget.
Beneath it were six words.
*Marcus knows what really happened.*
My hands began to shake.
Aaliyah stared at the screen.
"Where did you get that?""
"I didn't.""
The phone vibrated again.
A final message appeared.
*Ask your mother who paid Jacob to keep quiet.*
I looked at Aaliyah.
Then at the photograph.
Then at the hospital door.
My mother had spent eleven years telling me that the lake accident was nothing more than a drunken fall.
But someone had just told me that Jacob had been paid to stay silent.
And if that was true, the question wasn't simply who had killed him.
It was what he'd discovered that made someone willing to pay for his silence.
I called my mother.
She answered on the second ring.
"Marcus, sweetheart. Is everything all right?""
I looked at my newborn son, sleeping peacefully beneath the name that had started all of this.
"No, Mom," I said.
"It isn't.""
A long silence followed.
Then I asked the question that changed everything.
"Who paid Jacob Brooks to keep quiet?""
May you like
I heard a sharp intake of breath.
And for the first time in my life, my mother hung up on me.
