Chapter 2: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
For several seconds, nobody moved.
I stared into the darkness, trying to convince myself that the man standing behind the little girl couldn't possibly be who I thought he was.
"Come out," I demanded.
The man slowly stepped forward.
He was tall and painfully thin, with gray hair hanging over his forehead. His face was covered in deep wrinkles, but his eyes were unmistakable.
My father's eyes.
"Ryan," he said softly.
"You've grown up.""
I stumbled backward.
"No.""
He smiled sadly.
"That's not how you greet your father.""
"My father is dead.""
"That's what your mother told you.""
I looked at Claire.
She was still on the floor, shaking so violently that her teeth were clicking.
"Claire," I said.
"Tell me who this man is.""
She pressed both hands against her face.
"Ryan, please.""
"PLEASE WHAT?""
My voice echoed through the bedroom.
The little girl began crying.
The old man raised one hand.
"Don't frighten the children.""
I almost laughed.
There was a strange man living inside my bedroom walls, a child with my birthmark was calling me Daddy, and my wife appeared to know everything.
And this man was worried about frightening someone?
"Get out of there," I said.
"Now.""
My father looked at me for a long moment.
Then he stepped into the bedroom.
His shoes were muddy. His shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, and he smelled like wet earth and cigarette smoke.
He held the photograph toward me.
"Look at it.""
I didn't take it.
"Tell me who the girl is.""
"Her name is Emma.""
The little girl peeked around his legs.
"That's what Mommy used to call me," she whispered.
My stomach twisted.
"Mommy?""
Emma pointed toward Claire.
Claire began sobbing again.
I turned to her.
"Do you know this child?""
She nodded.
Once.
A tiny movement, but enough to destroy everything I thought I knew about my marriage.
"How?"" I asked.
She couldn't answer.
My father placed the photograph on the dresser.
"Your wife has been keeping a very important secret.""
I stepped between him and Emma.
"Stay away from her.""
He chuckled.
"Still protecting people without knowing what you're protecting them from.""
"Explain yourself.""
He looked at Claire.
"Tell him.""
Claire shook her head.
"Not in front of the children.""
My father laughed bitterly.
"You mean not in front of the child you abandoned?""
"STOP!"" Claire screamed.
Lily appeared in the bedroom doorway, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
"Daddy?""
I immediately turned.
"Sweetheart, go downstairs.""
She looked at Emma.
"That's my friend.""
Emma smiled weakly.
"Hi, Lily.""
Lily walked toward the closet.
"Grandpa says you're not supposed to come out.""
I went completely still.
"Grandpa?""
The little girl nodded.
"He told me not to tell Mommy.""
My father closed his eyes.
For the first time, he looked uncomfortable.
I turned toward him.
"What did you do to these children?""
"Nothing they wouldn't have survived.""
I grabbed his shirt.
"You're going to tell me everything.""
He didn't resist.
Instead, he leaned close and whispered something that made my grip loosen.
"Your mother didn't die in that car accident, Ryan.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"She was alive when you left the hospital that night.""
My childhood memories came rushing back.
I was sixteen when my mother supposedly died. My father had told me she'd been driving home during a storm when another vehicle crossed the center line.
I'd never seen her body.
I'd never attended an open-casket funeral.
My father had said the injuries were too severe.
For years, I'd believed him.
"Where is she?"" I asked.
He looked toward the little girl.
"That's the question you should be asking your wife.""
Claire suddenly stood.
"Don't listen to him, Ryan.""
My father turned toward her.
"How many times have you told him she was dead?""
Claire backed away.
"You're sick.""
"How many times?""
"Ryan, please. We need to leave this house.""
I stared at her.
"Why?""
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key.
My father immediately stepped toward her.
"Give me that.""
Claire clutched it tightly.
"No.""
His expression changed.
"Claire, don't make me ask again.""
She looked at me with desperate eyes.
"Ryan, there's a room underneath this house.""
I felt the floor shift beneath my feet.
"What room?""
She swallowed.
"The room where your mother has been living.""
Nobody spoke.
Even the scratching behind the walls seemed to stop.
Then Lily walked toward the closet and pointed at Emma.
"Mommy says we're not allowed to tell Daddy about the other girl.""
I slowly turned toward my daughter.
"What other girl?""
Emma began crying.
My father looked at Claire.
And Claire whispered the words I'd never expected to hear.
"Ryan, Emma isn't the only child in this house.""
A loud bang came from beneath the bedroom floor.
May you like
Then a child's voice called from somewhere below us.
"Daddy? Is that you?""
