Chapter 3: The Name That Was Buried
The name at the bottom of the document stared back at me like a ghost.
I read it once.
Then again.
My fingers went numb.
"No," I whispered.
Daniel watched my face carefully.
"Emma...""
"No.""
I pushed the paper away as if moving it farther from me could make the truth disappear.
"That's impossible.""
The restaurant noise came rushing back all at once. Forks scraping against plates. Glasses clinking. People laughing at nearby tables.
Everyone else was living a normal night.
Mine had just collapsed.
Daniel leaned forward.
"Tell me I'm wrong.""
I looked at him.
For seven years, Daniel had been the person I ran to when life became too heavy.
But now he was the person sitting across from me holding the weight of the impossible.
The document had one name printed clearly.
*Michael Carter.*
My father.
A man who had been dead for fifteen years.
"I buried him," I said quietly.
Daniel's expression softened.
"I know.""
"No, you don't understand.""
My voice shook.
"I watched them lower the coffin.""
Daniel nodded.
"I know.""
I stared at him.
"Then why are you showing me this?""
He took a slow breath.
"Because this isn't the first thing that doesn't make sense.""
I felt a chill run through me.
"What does that mean?""
Daniel looked down at the recording device.
Then back at me.
"It means someone has been watching our lives.""
My stomach twisted.
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
"You expect me to believe someone connected to my dead father is following us, but you won't tell me why?""
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"Because I was trying to protect you.""
I almost laughed.
"Protect me?""
The word came out bitter.
"You sat across from me knowing I was lying, knowing something was wrong, and you say you were protecting me?""
Pain crossed his face.
"I didn't know who to trust.""
The answer silenced me.
Because for a second, I saw something I hadn't noticed before.
Daniel wasn't acting like a betrayed husband.
He looked like someone who had been scared.
"What happened?"" I asked.
He rubbed his hands together.
"Three weeks ago, I received an envelope at work.""
"From who?""
"No return address.""
"And you opened it?""
"I almost threw it away.""
He looked at the document.
"Then I saw your father's name.""
I swallowed.
"What was inside?""
Daniel reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.
He unlocked it and showed me a picture.
A photograph.
Old.
Faded.
But clear enough.
My father stood outside a building I recognized.
My childhood home.
Beside him was another man.
A man I had never seen before.
"Who is that?"" I asked.
Daniel looked at me.
"That's what I wanted to ask you.""
I shook my head.
"I don't know him.""
"Are you sure?""
"Yes.""
Daniel zoomed in on the picture.
The man's hand rested on my father's shoulder.
Not like a friend.
Like someone who owned his attention.
"I started looking into it," Daniel said.
My eyes widened.
"You investigated my father?""
"I investigated the person who sent me this.""
"And what did you find?""
Daniel hesitated.
That hesitation scared me more than anything else.
"Daniel.""
He looked away.
"I found records that your father may not have died when everyone thought he did.""
My breath caught.
"What?""
"Emma—"
"No.""
I stood up so quickly my chair scraped against the floor.
"You can't just say something like that.""
People turned toward us.
I didn't care.
"My father is dead.""
Daniel stood too.
"I know what you were told.""
"What does that mean?""
He lowered his voice.
"It means the death certificate I found doesn't match the hospital records.""
My hands shook.
"You found this three weeks ago?""
"Yes.""
"And you said nothing?""
"I was trying to confirm it.""
"While I was lying to you?""
His face tightened.
"Yes.""
The honesty hurt.
More than a lie would have.
I grabbed my purse.
"I need to go.""
Daniel didn't stop me.
That hurt even more.
I expected anger.
I expected him to fight.
Instead, he simply said my name.
"Emma.""
I stopped.
"Look at me.""
I slowly turned.
His eyes were filled with something I hadn't seen in months.
Fear.
"Your father isn't the only person who disappeared.""
My heart pounded.
"What are you talking about?""
Daniel reached for the document again.
He turned it over.
On the back was a handwritten message.
A message I hadn't seen before.
Three words.
Three words that made my blood turn cold.
*She knows everything.*
I stared at it.
"Who wrote that?""
Daniel didn't answer.
Because at that exact moment, his phone began ringing.
He looked at the screen.
And his face changed.
"Who is it?"" I asked.
Daniel didn't move.
May you like
He just whispered:
"It's your mother.""
