Chapter 9: The Name On The Headstone
I didn't tell Maya about Ethan's message immediately.
I hated that.
Because it was exactly what I promised I wouldn't do.
But there was a difference between hiding the truth and protecting her from danger.
At least, that's what I told myself.
By midnight, I was standing in the kitchen with Denise.
"You think someone is watching us?""
She looked nervous.
"I don't know.""
"But Ethan knew.""
She nodded.
"That's what scares me.""
I looked outside.
The neighborhood was dark.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
"We go tomorrow.""
Denise looked surprised.
"You're bringing Maya?""
I thought about her question.
Then I remembered her words.
No more promises.
No more secrets.
"Yes.""
The next morning, Maya didn't ask where we were going.
She just got into the car.
That hurt.
A teenager should complain about being dragged somewhere.
She should ask questions.
She should roll her eyes.
Instead, she sat silently.
Like someone who had learned that adults made decisions and children followed.
The cemetery was thirty minutes away.
The same cemetery where Angela was buried.
I hadn't been there in years.
Not because I forgot.
Because I couldn't handle it.
When we arrived, Ethan was standing near Angela's grave.
Older.
Tired.
Broken.
But still recognizable.
Maya froze.
"Uncle Ethan?""
His face changed.
The second he saw her, regret crossed his expression.
"Maya.""
She stepped closer.
"Why did you leave?""
The question came immediately.
No anger.
Just pain.
Ethan looked down.
"I was wrong.""
"That's not an answer.""
I looked at my daughter.
She sounded like Angela.
Strong.
Direct.
Ethan swallowed.
"I left because your mother asked me to.""
My chest tightened.
"What?""
He looked at me.
"She knew something was happening.""
"What was happening?""
He walked closer to the grave.
"Your marriage was falling apart.""
I frowned.
"My marriage?""
"Before the illness.""
I shook my head.
"No.""
Ethan looked at me sadly.
"Marcus, you loved Angela.""
"I did.""
"But you weren't seeing her.""
The words felt familiar.
Like my mother had said the same thing.
"Explain.""
Ethan looked at Maya.
Then back at me.
"Angela found out you were hiding something.""
My heart stopped.
"What?""
He reached into his jacket.
Pulled out a small notebook.
"I found this after she died.""
He handed it to me.
Angela's journal.
I recognized it.
She wrote in that journal for years.
"I thought I read everything.""
"You didn't.""
My fingers shook as I opened it.
The page was marked.
A date.
Three weeks before Angela died.
The first line destroyed me.
"Marcus doesn't know that Maya isn't the only child he has.""
I stopped breathing.
I looked at Ethan.
"What does that mean?""
Maya looked confused.
Denise went pale.
Ethan whispered:
"Angela found out before she died.""
I turned the page.
The next sentence waited.
"I don't know how to tell Marcus that the daughter he has raised for sixteen years may not be the only secret he has been carrying.""
The world went silent.
No birds.
No wind.
Nothing.
I looked at Maya.
My daughter.
My whole world.
Then I looked back at Ethan.
"What are you saying?""
Ethan's eyes filled with sadness.
"I'm saying Angela discovered something about your family.""
My hands tightened around the journal.
"What?""
He took a breath.
"Before Maya was born...""
A pause.
"Angela found out you might have another child.""
I felt the ground disappear beneath me.
"No.""
Ethan looked at me.
"I'm sorry.""
"No.""
I stepped back.
"That's impossible.""
Maya looked between us.
"Dad?""
I couldn't answer.
Because for nine years, I thought the biggest secret in my life was what happened the night Angela died.
I was wrong.
The biggest secret was something that happened before Maya was even born.
May you like
And according to Angela's journal...
I had been living with it without knowing.
