Chapter 13 - The Father Who Refused to Stay Dead
Victor Moretti had been declared dead five years earlier.
His funeral had filled a cathedral.
Politicians attended.
Business leaders praised him.
Dominic delivered the eulogy.
Now a photograph showed Victor alive.
I stared at the screen.
“Where was this taken?”
Dominic's voice trembled.
“I don't know.”
Claire took the phone.
“Send me the original file.”
He did.
She examined the metadata available to her, then contacted the forensic team.
I looked toward the road where Dad's ambulance had disappeared.
Two fathers.
Both declared dead.
Both alive.
And somewhere between them, a girl named Lily had spent years trapped in a nightmare I barely understood.
Dominic spoke again.
“Avery.”
“What?”
“I need to tell you something.”
I closed my eyes.
“Another secret?”
“Yes.”
I almost hung up.
Then he said, “I met Lily.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
I stared.
“Where?”
“At a medical charity event.”
“Did you know who she was?”
“No.”
“What did she tell you?”
Dominic hesitated.
“She asked me if I knew Thomas Carter.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What did you say?”
“I told her I didn't.”
I felt sick.
“She looked terrified.”
He swallowed.
“She said Thomas had saved her life.”
I looked at Claire.
She was listening.
“Then what happened?”
“Martin Shaw took her away.”
I gripped the phone.
“And you let him?”
“I thought she was a patient.”
My voice rose.
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“You thought Gabriel was unstable.”
“I know.”
“You thought my father died in an accident.”
“I know.”
“You thought Lily was just a patient.”
His voice broke.
“I know, Avery.”
I stood beside Claire's car.
For a moment, I wanted to scream.
Then I remembered Dad's warning.
Don't decide who is guilty before you see the records.
I took a breath.
“Then help us stop making the same mistake.”
Dominic was silent.
Finally, he said, “Tell me what you need.”
Claire took the phone.
“We need access to the old plant.”
Dominic answered immediately.
“I own it.”
“Then authorize investigators to search it.”
“I will.”
“And Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“Don't tell anyone in your company.”
A pause.
“Understood.”
That afternoon, Dad was admitted to a secure hospital ward.
Doctors began evaluating the effects of prolonged confinement, medication, and untreated injuries.
Mom arrived with Maya.
I met them outside his room.
She stopped when she saw him through the glass.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Thomas?”
Dad turned.
His eyes filled with tears.
“Eleanor.”
Mom walked toward him.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
She reached his bed and touched his face.
As if she were afraid he might disappear.
He began crying.
“I'm sorry.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Eleanor—”
“No.”
She wrapped her arms around him.
I stood in the doorway, crying.
For eight years, I'd imagined what I would say if I could see my father again.
I thought I'd ask why he left.
Why he didn't call.
Why he let us suffer.
But watching my parents hold each other, I understood something.
Some answers could wait.
Not forever.
But for one moment.
We deserved one moment without fear.
Then Dad looked at Mom.
“Lily?”
Mom's expression changed.
“We don't know.”
He closed his eyes.
“She saved me.”
I stepped closer.
“What?”
Dad looked at me.
“When they moved me between facilities, Lily helped me send messages.”
I stared.
“She sent the photographs?”
He nodded.
“She found ways to reach people outside.”
“Then why didn't she contact us sooner?”
Dad's face tightened.
“Because they threatened the other children.”
I looked at Claire.
She nodded.
“We're working to identify everyone involved.”
Dad continued.
“Lily isn't my daughter.”
I froze.
“Then why did the records say she was?”
“Because I claimed her.”
I stared.
“What?”
“I told the administrators she was family.”
“Why?”
“Because they were going to transfer her somewhere I couldn't reach.”
My throat tightened.
“You tried to protect her.”
He nodded.
“I couldn't save Gabriel.”
His voice broke.
“I wasn't going to abandon her.”
I took his hand.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“She's not your sister by blood, Avery.”
I looked at the photograph of Lily.
The frightened eyes.
The scar.
The resemblance.
“Then why does she look like me?”
Dad hesitated.
“Because she is related to you.”
My heart jumped.
“How?”
He looked at Mom.
She closed her eyes.
Dad whispered, “Lily is your cousin.”
I stared.
“My cousin?”
He nodded.
“Your mother's sister had a daughter.”
I turned toward Mom.
She was crying.
“I thought Lily died when she was little,” Mom whispered.
Dad shook his head.
“She didn't.”
My head spun.
The medical program.
The false identity.
The family records.
The resemblance.
Everything suddenly fit together.
Lily hadn't been created in a laboratory.
She hadn't been some impossible copy of me.
She was a real child whose family had been lied to.
And someone had used that lie to hide her.
Dad gripped my hand.
“Victor knew who she was.”
I stared.
“Why would he care?”
Dad's face hardened.
“Because Lily witnessed something.”
“What?”
He looked toward Claire.
“The night Gabriel died.”
May you like
My pulse accelerated.
Dad whispered, “She saw who killed him.”
