Chapter 4: The Woman in the Photograph
For several seconds, I couldn't make sense of the photograph.
My father was standing on the steps of a house I didn't recognize. He looked younger than I remembered him, maybe forty-five. One hand rested on the shoulder of a woman with dark hair and a narrow face.
The woman wasn't smiling.
Neither was he.
But what held my attention was the child standing between them.
A little girl.
Maybe four years old.
I zoomed in.
The photograph blurred slightly on my phone screen, but I could still see the girl's face.
There was something familiar about her.
Not familiar in the way a stranger resembles someone you've seen before.
Familiar in the way a face from an old family album can make your stomach drop before your mind understands why.
“Mom,” I said.
She didn't answer.
“Who is she?””
Mom stared at the photograph.
Then she closed her eyes.
“Her name was Rebecca.””
“Who was Rebecca?””
Mom's lips trembled.
“Your father's daughter.””
I stopped breathing.
“What?””
“Your father had another child.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“I should have told you.””
“You told me Dad was an only child.””
“He was.””
“Then who is Rebecca?””
Mom looked at me.
“She wasn't his sister's daughter.””
I felt anger rising.
“Mom, stop speaking in riddles.””
She lowered her head.
“She was your father's daughter.””
The words landed between us.
I stood.
“You mean half-sister?””
Mom nodded.
“How long have you known?””
“Since before you were born.””
I stared at her.
“And you never told me?””
“I was afraid.””
“Afraid of what?””
“That you'd hate me.””
I laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“You kept an entire person secret from me for forty years.””
“I know.””
“Does Vanessa know Rebecca?””
Mom looked away.
My phone vibrated.
Vanessa.
I answered.
“Where did you get that photograph?””
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I told you. There's something you don't know.””
“Does Rebecca have anything to do with the money?””
“Not directly.””
“Then why send me this?””
“Because you need to understand what your mother has been hiding.””
I looked at Mom.
“What exactly are you accusing her of?””
Vanessa hesitated.
“Ask her why Rebecca disappeared.””
Mom's face changed.
I saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Vanessa,” I said, “how do you know about Rebecca?””
“I found the photograph in your mother's old records.””
“When?””
“A few months ago.””
“Why were you going through her records?””
No answer.
“Vanessa?””
“I was looking for something else.””
“What?””
She swallowed.
“The documents proving where your mother's money came from.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“Ask her.””
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone.
Mom was crying.
I had seen my mother cry only twice in my life.
Once at my father's funeral.
And once when she thought I wasn't watching after my divorce from my first wife.
This was different.
She looked terrified.
“Mom.””
She wiped her cheek.
“I never wanted you involved in this.””
“You're already involving me.””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
She didn't answer.
I pulled the photograph closer.
“Tell me about Rebecca.””
Mom took a long breath.
“Your father met her mother before we were married.””
“Was he cheating?””
“No.””
“Then what happened?””
“He loved her.””
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Mom continued.
“Her name was Elaine. She was young. Your father thought he would marry her.””
“But he didn't.””
“No.””
“Why?””
“His father threatened to disown him.””
I sat down again.
“This sounds like something from another century.””
“It happened.””
“What happened to Elaine?””
“She died.””
“How?””
“Car accident.””
“And Rebecca?””
Mom's eyes filled again.
“She was four.””
“What happened to her?””
“I took her.””
My heart stopped.
“You what?””
“I took Rebecca after Elaine died.””
“Where?””
“Here.””
I stared at my mother.
“You raised her?””
“For almost a year.””
“Then what?””
“Your father's family came.””
“Why?””
“They said Rebecca couldn't stay.””
“Where did they take her?””
Mom shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You don't know?””
“They told me they had arranged for her to live with relatives.””
I stood again.
“You let them take a four-year-old girl?””
“I had no legal right to keep her.””
“You were her stepmother.””
“I wasn't married to your father yet.””
I looked at the photograph.
“So when I was born, Rebecca was already gone.””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't Dad tell me?””
“He wanted to.””
“Then why didn't he?””
Mom looked at the floor.
“Because I made him promise.””
The room went silent.
“You made him promise?””
“I was pregnant with you. I was afraid that if Rebecca came back into his life, everything would fall apart.””
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“You destroyed a relationship between siblings before I even knew I had a sister.””
Mom nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
I turned away.
My father's face in the photograph seemed suddenly unfamiliar.
I had spent forty years believing I knew the man.
Now I wondered how much of my childhood had been built on lies.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a message from Michael.
*Call me immediately.*
I stepped into the hallway.
“What happened?””
His voice was tense.
“The bank contacted me.””
“About the transfer?””
“Yes. The seventy-five-thousand-dollar transfer was stopped.””
I exhaled.
“Good.””
“There's a problem.””
“What?””
“Your wife has already moved money from another account.””
“How much?””
“Seventy-five thousand.””
I froze.
“When?””
“An hour ago.””
I looked at the clock.
My blood ran cold.
“Where did it go?””
Michael hesitated.
“To an account belonging to a person named Rebecca Morgan.””
I couldn't speak.
“David?””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Are you sure?””
“Yes.””
I turned toward my mother.
She was still sitting at the kitchen table.
“Mom.””
She looked up.
“Do you know someone named Rebecca Morgan?””
Her face went completely white.
Then she whispered:
“That was her married name.””
Before I could respond, someone knocked on the front door.
Three slow knocks.
Mom stared toward the hallway.
“Don't answer it.””
“Why?””
She stood, trembling.
“Because if it's who I think it is…”
Another knock.
This time louder.
Then a woman's voice came through the door.
“Mrs. Harper?””
Mom's hand flew to her mouth.
May you like
The voice came again.
“It's Rebecca.””
