Chapter 8 - The Last Phone Call
Daniel had spent five years refusing to think about the last phone call.
Now Owen was using it to threaten the family Daniel had tried so hard to rebuild.
The call had come at 4:42 p.m. on a Tuesday.
Daniel remembered the time because he'd looked at his phone when it stopped ringing.
He had been sitting in a meeting at work.
Nora was in the hospital, receiving treatment for an advanced illness.
She had called twice that afternoon.
The first time, he'd answered.
They had argued.
Not about anything important.
At least, not anything that should have been important.
Daniel had missed another appointment.
Nora was tired.
She was frightened.
She wanted him there.
He'd promised to come after work.
She'd said she didn't know how many more times she could ask.
Daniel had become defensive.
He told her he was doing everything he could.
She'd gone quiet.
Then she'd ended the call.
When the phone rang again forty minutes later, he let it go to voicemail.
He told himself he'd call after the meeting.
By the time he did, a nurse answered.
Nora's condition had deteriorated.
Daniel reached the hospital.
He stayed with her through the night.
She died the following morning.
The unanswered call had nothing to do with the medical cause of her death.
The doctors had been clear about that.
But Daniel had spent years wondering whether she had called because she was frightened.
Or lonely.
Or simply wanted to hear his voice.
He never listened to the voicemail.
He couldn't.
And Owen knew.
Claire learned the story directly from Daniel that night.
They sat across from each other in an empty hospital conference room.
For the first time since Sophie's accident, neither raised their voice.
Claire placed her phone on the table.
“Owen sent these.”
Daniel read the messages.
His face drained of color.
Claire waited.
“Is it true?”
He nodded.
“What part?”
“All of it, except what he's implying.”
Daniel explained the call.
The argument.
The meeting.
The voicemail.
The guilt.
Claire listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she whispered, “Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought you'd see me differently.”
“I might have understood you better.”
Daniel stared at the table.
“I was a terrible husband that afternoon.”
“You made a mistake.”
“She died before I could apologize.”
Claire looked at him.
“You were there that night.”
“I was.”
“You took care of Sophie afterward.”
“I tried.”
“You still do.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You don't understand. I kept thinking that if I could protect Sophie from every bad thing, I could somehow make up for not answering that call.”
Claire moved closer.
“And now?”
He looked toward the corridor.
“Now she's lying in a hospital bed because I didn't explain something she needed to understand.”
Claire lowered her eyes.
“And because I let Owen into our house.”
Daniel didn't immediately reassure her.
That would have been too easy.
Too dishonest.
He was still angry.
But his anger was no longer simple.
“I need to know why you believed him,” he said.
Claire took a breath.
“Because he showed me Nora's handwriting. Because he said he wanted to reconnect. Because I believed Sophie deserved to know her mother's family.”
“Even after everything I told you?”
“I thought maybe you were holding on to old anger.”
Daniel winced.
Claire continued.
“I should have called you. I should have told him to leave immediately. And when Sophie disappeared, I should have called for help sooner.”
Her voice cracked.
“I can't undo any of that.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Why did you sound so calm when I called?”
She looked surprised.
“I didn't feel calm.”
“You sounded like nothing had happened.”
Claire pressed her fingertips against her forehead.
“When the dish broke, I felt like I left my own body. Everything became distant. I remember staring at the carrots on the floor. I remember hearing Sophie cry. I remember Owen talking. But I couldn't think clearly.”
She swallowed.
“After he left, I kept cleaning because it was the only thing I could make sense of.”
Daniel's expression softened slightly.
“That doesn't explain why you didn't call me.”
“No. It doesn't excuse that.”
Claire met his eyes.
“I was ashamed. And afraid you'd blame me.”
Daniel leaned back.
“I did blame you.”
“I know.”
“I still don't know how to feel about it.”
“I know that too.”
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then Claire whispered, “Does Sophie hate me?”
Daniel shook his head.
“She asked whether I was angry with you.”
Claire covered her mouth.
“That's what she's worried about?”
“Part of it.”
Tears spilled down Claire's face.
“I just want her safe.”
“So do I.”
It wasn't forgiveness.
But it was the first honest conversation they'd had since the incident.
The following morning, Detective Ortiz interviewed Owen.
He arrived wearing a navy jacket and an expression of injured dignity.
His attorney sat beside him.
Owen admitted visiting the Bennett house.
He admitted bringing the wooden box.
He admitted going to the equipment building.
But he described his encounter with Sophie very differently.
“She followed me,” he said.
“I never asked her to.”
“Did you tell her that Daniel had stolen belongings from Nora?”
“I told her there were disagreements after her mother's death.”
“Did you ask her to make a recording?”
Owen smiled faintly.
“I asked whether she wanted to say something for the family.”
“What did you want her to say?”
“That she missed her mother's side of the family.”
“Did you ask her to accuse her father of being cruel?”
“No.”
“Did you threaten to take the box away?”
“Absolutely not.”
Detective Ortiz placed the print shop receipt on the table.
“You bought the box the previous afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“Yet you told Sophie it was left by her mother.”
Owen's smile disappeared.
“I never said the box itself was old. I said the things inside belonged to Nora.”
“Do you have proof?”
“My sister gave me photographs years ago.”
“And why did you bring them now?”
“Because Daniel has spent years poisoning my niece against me.”
Detective Ortiz watched him.
“Where is the box?”
“At my apartment.”
“We'll be requesting it.”
Owen folded his arms.
Then the detective asked one final question.
“Why did you send Claire messages about Nora's last phone call?”
Owen's expression hardened.
“Because Daniel pretends to be a saint.”
“Was your purpose to frighten her?”
“I wanted her to know the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
Owen leaned forward.
“That Daniel Bennett isn't the father everyone thinks he is.”
The detective remained silent.
Owen continued.
“He'll do anything to keep control of that child.”
She closed her notebook.
“Mr. Mercer, we're interested in evidence, not accusations.”
His face reddened.
“Then look at the evidence.”
Detective Ortiz stood.
“We are.”
May you like
And in another part of the building, an investigator was already reviewing a file that Owen apparently hadn't realized existed.
A copy of the recording he'd attempted to make with Sophie.
