Chapter 4: The Wrong Child
Dad stared at the photograph until the screen went dark.
Nobody spoke.
The cabin suddenly felt much smaller.
The fire crackled behind us, throwing orange light across the stone fireplace, but the warmth didn't reach my hands.
Maya sat perfectly still.
“What does that mean?”” I asked.
Dad didn't answer.
“Dad.””
He locked his phone.
“I don't know.””
“That message says we took the wrong child.””
“I know what it says.””
“Then who were we supposed to take?””
His eyes met mine.
“I don't know.””
Maya suddenly stood.
“I'm going to bed.””
Dad looked at her.
“Maya—”
“I need to sleep.””
She turned.
“Maya.””
She stopped.
Dad's voice softened.
“Nothing is going to happen to you tonight.””
She nodded without looking back.
Then she disappeared down the hallway.
I waited until her door closed.
“Dad.””
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I've spent years thinking your mother was controlling because she was scared.””
“What changed?””
“She got caught.””
He stood and walked toward the windows.
Outside, snow had begun falling.
Tiny white flakes crossed the darkness.
“Dad, you said you didn't know about the divorce.””
“I didn't.””
“You didn't know she was talking to a lawyer?””
“No.””
“You didn't know she was hiding my application?””
“No.””
“Then what did you know?””
He turned.
I could see the answer before he spoke.
“Not enough.””
I hated how much that hurt.
“You knew she treated Maya differently.””
“Yes.””
“You knew she was scared of Mom.””
“Yes.””
“You knew Mom accused her of stealing.””
“Yes.””
“And you still believed her.””
Dad lowered his eyes.
“Yes.””
I swallowed.
“Why?””
His jaw tightened.
“Because every time I questioned your mother, she gave me a reasonable explanation.””
“And you believed those explanations?””
“I wanted to.””
The words landed hard.
Dad sat down.
“I was working eighty hours some weeks. Your mother handled the house, the school, appointments, everything. When Maya started having problems, your mother told me she was acting out. When you started pulling away, she told me you were angry about my work.””
He looked at me.
“I believed the person who was always there.””
I sat across from him.
“And now?””
“Now I think she used my absence as a weapon.””
My phone buzzed.
I looked down.
Unknown number.
Another photograph.
This time it was an old family picture.
I recognized the setting immediately.
Our kitchen.
But the photograph had been taken from inside the house.
Mom was sitting at the table.
Maya was beside her.
I was standing behind them.
There was someone else in the picture.
A little girl.
Maybe five or six years old.
She was sitting on the floor near the refrigerator.
I stared.
“Dad.””
He leaned over.
“What?””
“Who is that?””
He took the phone.
His face changed.
I had never seen him look that frightened.
“Where did you get this?””
“Someone sent it.””
He zoomed in.
The little girl's face was blurry.
But there was something familiar about her.
The shape of her eyes.
The dark hair.
The small silver bracelet around her wrist.
Dad whispered, “That's not possible.””
“What isn't?””
He stood abruptly.
“Maya!””
Her bedroom door opened.
She appeared in the hallway.
“What?””
Dad held up my phone.
“Do you recognize this?””
Maya walked closer.
The moment she saw the photograph, she stopped.
Her face went white.
“Where did you get that?””
“Someone sent it.””
She stared at the little girl.
Then she whispered one word.
“Lena.””
I looked at Dad.
“Who is Lena?””
He didn't answer.
Maya did.
“My sister.””
My entire body went cold.
“You have a sister?””
Maya nodded slowly.
“Had.””
Dad sat down again.
Maya walked into the room.
“She died before I was born.””
I looked at the photograph.
“But that's you and Mom.””
Maya nodded.
“And Dad.””
“And Lena.””
“Yes.””
I stared at Dad.
“Why have I never heard of her?””
He looked at me.
“Because your mother told me never to talk about her.””
“Why?””
Dad's eyes moved to Maya.
“Because Lena wasn't your mother's biological daughter.””
Maya's voice was barely audible.
“She was mine.””
I frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“She was my half-sister.””
Maya looked at the photograph.
“My mother had another daughter before she married Dad.””
I looked at my father.
“So why did Mom raise her?””
Dad shook his head.
“She didn't.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Then why is she in the photograph?””
Dad took a breath.
“Because that photograph was taken before everything changed.””
“What changed?””
He didn't answer.
Maya did.
“Lena disappeared.””
Silence.
“When?”” I asked.
“Eleven years ago.””
“Where?””
Maya looked at Dad.
“Tell him.””
Dad's face tightened.
“I don't know.””
Maya stared at him.
“You do.””
“Maya—”
“You do.””
Her voice rose.
“You just don't want to say it.””
Dad stood.
“Maya, enough.””
“No.””
She pointed at him.
“You found her.””
Dad froze.
I looked between them.
“What?””
Maya's eyes filled with tears.
“You found Lena.””
Dad's face collapsed.
“I found a child.””
Maya shook her head.
“You found my sister.””
Dad sat back down.
I could barely breathe.
“What happened?””
Dad stared at the floor.
“She was six.””
His voice was broken.
“She'd been missing for three days.””
“Missing from where?””
“Your mother's house.””
I looked at Maya.
“Mom had custody?””
“She had temporary custody,” Dad said.
“Lena's biological father was fighting for her.””
“And?””
“Your mother told everyone Lena had been taken.””
I frowned.
“But you found her.””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
Dad looked toward the window.
“In a motel.””
My skin prickled.
“She was alone?””
“No.””
“With who?””
Dad's silence answered before his words did.
“With a woman.””
“What woman?””
He looked at me.
“Your mother.””
The fire popped loudly.
Maya covered her mouth.
“I knew it,” she whispered.
Dad looked at her.
“I didn't know what she was doing.””
“You knew enough.””
“I thought she was trying to protect Lena.””
“From who?””
“Her father.””
Maya shook her head.
“She wasn't.””
Dad's eyes filled.
“I know that now.””
I stood.
“So what happened to Lena?””
Dad didn't speak.
“Dad.””
“She died.””
Maya closed her eyes.
“How?””
Dad's voice cracked.
“An accident.””
“What accident?””
He swallowed.
“Your mother said she fell down a staircase.””
I remembered the photograph of Maya's bruised face.
The phrase hit me like a punch.
*She fell down the stairs.*
I looked at Maya.
She was trembling.
“That's what Mom always said about me.””
Dad looked at her.
“I know.””
Maya backed away.
“Then she didn't fall.””
Dad stood.
“We don't know that.””
“You said she lied.””
“I said I don't know everything.””
Maya's breathing became faster.
Dad approached her carefully.
“Sit down.””
“No.””
“Maya.””
“No!””
She backed against the wall.
“She did this before.””
Dad stopped.
Maya's eyes were fixed on him.
“She told me Lena fell.””
I whispered, “How do you know?””
Maya looked at me.
“Because I was there.””
My blood ran cold.
“You were there?””
“I was five.””
“You remember?””
“Not everything.””
She pressed a hand against her forehead.
“But I remember the stairs.””
Dad's face went pale.
“What do you remember?””
Maya stared at the floor.
“A scream.””
Nobody moved.
“Then Mom told me to stay upstairs.””
Her voice shook.
“She carried Lena downstairs.””
Dad covered his mouth.
“What else?””
Maya's eyes met his.
“She wasn't breathing.””
The cabin went silent.
Then Dad's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
The number was unknown.
He answered.
“Hello?””
No one spoke.
Then a woman's voice whispered through the speaker.
“Ask Maya where the bracelet came from.””
The call ended.
Maya looked down at her wrist.
The silver bracelet.
The same one on the little girl in the photograph.
Her face went completely white.
She tore it off.
It landed on the wooden floor.
Something tiny fell from inside the clasp.
A folded piece of paper.
Dad bent down.
He opened it.
His eyes widened.
“What's on it?”” I asked.
He looked at me.
“It has an address.””
He unfolded the paper completely.
Then his hands began to shake.
May you like
Because underneath the address was a name.
*Lena Davis.*
