Chapter 8 - The Night Kevin Was BornThe Secret My Family Buried

Kevin read the note twice.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"You do."

"No."

He took the paper.

His expression changed.

"The night I was born?"

I nodded.

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

He looked at me.

"Maybe Dad does."

We left the storage unit with copies of everything.

On the drive home, Kevin called Tessa.

She didn't answer.

Then he called Dad.

No answer.

Then Mom.

No answer.

At 10:12 p.m., my mother called me.

Her voice was trembling.

"Where are you?"

"Home."

"Is Kevin with you?"

"Yes."

"Listen carefully."

I waited.

"Do not go to your father's office."

"We already did."

Silence.

"Mom?"

"You found the box."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

She began crying.

"I should have told you years ago."

"Told me what?"

"Your grandmother found out your father had been moving money."

"I know."

"No."

She sounded desperate.

"You don't know why."

"Then tell me."

"When Kevin was born, there were complications."

"I know."

"The hospital said he needed an emergency procedure."

"Okay."

"Your father couldn't pay."

"What?"

"We were broke."

That surprised me.

My father had spent my childhood talking about sacrifice.

He never said we were broke.

"What happened?"

"Your grandmother paid."

"With her money?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the secret?"

My mother went silent.

"He wasn't supposed to be discharged under your father's name."

I frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"Your grandmother discovered paperwork that didn't match."

"What paperwork?"

"Birth records."

My skin prickled.

"Mom."

She whispered:

"Kevin wasn't originally listed as your father's son."

I stared at the phone.

"What?"

"I don't know everything."

"You better start."

"He was born during a period when your father was living separately from us."

"Why?"

"I thought he was having an affair."

"Was he?"

"I don't know."

My mother's voice broke.

"But Grandma did."

I sat down.

"Who was Kevin's biological father?"

"I don't know."

"Does Dad?"

"Yes."

I couldn't speak.

"Madison?"

"What?"

"That's why your grandmother changed the trust."

"Because Kevin wasn't Dad's biological son?"

"Not only that."

I waited.

Mom whispered:

"Because the man who was Kevin's biological father had a claim to the company."

My mind raced.

"What company?"

"Carter Holdings."

I stood.

"Mom, what are you saying?"

"Your father didn't build it."

"What?"

"Your grandmother built it with another man."

"Who?"

She began crying harder.

"I don't know what happened to him."

"Mom."

"He disappeared."

"Disappeared where?"

"I don't know."

"Was he alive?"

"Not when your grandmother changed the trust."

I closed my eyes.

A horrible possibility formed.

"Did Dad kill him?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Then she added:

"I don't know."

Silence.

Finally, I asked:

"Why did Grandma leave everything to me?"

"Because she believed you were the only one who hadn't been corrupted."

I looked around my house.

The walls.

The table.

The photographs.

Everything suddenly felt contaminated.

"Mom, where is Dad?"

"I don't know."

"Where is Kevin's original birth certificate?"

She stopped breathing.

Then whispered:

"Your father's safe."

I hung up.

Twenty minutes later, I drove to my parents' house.

The place was dark.

The garage was open.

Dad's car was gone.

But a light was on upstairs.

I entered through the side door.

His office was exactly as we'd left it.

Except the black box was gone.

The desk drawers were open.

Files had been removed.

Someone had been searching too.

Then my phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

A photograph appeared.

It was a picture of Kevin.

Standing outside the storage unit.

Taken earlier that evening.

Below it was one sentence.

You are looking in the wrong place.

A second photo loaded.

An old hospital bracelet.

Kevin Carter.

The date of his birth.

And a second name printed underneath.

Daniel Mercer.

I stared at the screen.

Daniel Mercer.

I had seen that name before.

On the title company's documents.

Elaine Mercer.

My stomach dropped.

The woman who had called me.

The title officer investigating my house.

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