Chapter 8 - There are moments when the human brain simply refuses to accept what it hears.This was one of them.

My mother.

The woman whose photograph sat on my bedside table.

The woman who had died when I was fifteen.

The woman I remembered as gentle.

She had ordered the baby switch?

"Why?"

Jacqueline shook her head.

"I don't know everything."

"Then tell me what you know."

"Your mother discovered something about Daniel's family."

"What?"

"She believed one of the children was being targeted."

"Which child?"

"Yours."

I frowned.

"But I hadn't been born."

"Exactly."

She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"She knew they wanted to take your inheritance before you could claim it."

I looked at the trust documents.

"Then why switch the babies?"

"To hide you."

"From who?"

Jacqueline looked toward the window.

"From the people who killed your father."

My blood froze.

"My father died of a heart attack."

"That's what the report says."

"What really happened?"

"No one knows."

I stepped closer.

"You do."

She shook her head.

"I know what your father told me."

"What?"

"He said if he ever died suddenly, you were to leave town immediately."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was afraid."

"Afraid of whom?"

She whispered,

"Daniel's father."

I stared at Daniel.

"My father?"

He nodded slowly.

"My father wasn't what I thought he was."

I looked at him.

"Was he involved in my father's death?"

Daniel looked away.

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

"I don't know."

"You've lied to me for six years."

"I was protecting you."

"By sleeping with my best friend?"

Jacqueline closed her eyes.

Daniel's face tightened.

"The affair wasn't what you think."

I laughed.

"I saw you."

"You saw what they wanted you to see."

"Who?"

He didn't answer.

I walked toward the kitchen.

The two wineglasses were gone.

But the bottle was still there.

I looked at it.

Something felt wrong.

I picked it up.

There was a small mark underneath.

A barcode.

I turned to Ethan.

"Can you run this?"

He took a photograph.

"Why?"

"Because I bought this bottle last Christmas."

Daniel never drank Cabernet.

He hated it.

He preferred bourbon.

Jacqueline hated wine.

She always said it gave her migraines.

So why were they drinking my wine?

Maybe they weren't drinking it.

Maybe the bottle had been planted.

Ethan examined the label.

"Emily."

"What?"

"There are sedatives in it."

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

"According to the residue."

I stared at Daniel.

"What were you planning?"

He said nothing.

Jacqueline started crying.

"I didn't know."

"You didn't know?"

"He told me it was just to calm you down."

Daniel snapped,

"Jacqueline."

I stepped backward.

The room suddenly felt dangerous.

"You were going to drug me."

Daniel closed his eyes.

"We needed you unconscious."

"For what?"

He didn't answer.

Ethan grabbed my arm.

"We're leaving."

We made it to the front door.

Then a car pulled into the driveway.

Black sedan.

Two men stepped out.

Daniel looked toward them.

"They're early."

My blood ran cold.

"Who are they?"

Daniel didn't answer.

One of the men knocked.

Three slow knocks.

Jacqueline whispered,

"It's over."

The front door opened.

A tall man entered.

Gray hair.

Black suit.

His eyes landed on me.

Then he smiled.

"Emily Carter."

I had seen him before.

In my father's old photograph.

He was standing beside Daniel's father.

I felt the room shrink around me.

He held out his hand.

"I'm Thomas Carter."

Daniel's father.

The man everyone had told me was dead.

I stared at him.

"You're alive."

He smiled.

"Very much so."

Then he looked at Daniel.

"You were told to bring her quietly."

Daniel's voice shook.

"I couldn't."

Thomas looked at me again.

"Then I suppose we'll do this the difficult way."

Ethan stepped between us.

Thomas smiled.

"You're Ethan."

"Stay away from my sister."

Thomas nodded.

"I expected you to be difficult."

He reached into his coat.

Ethan tensed.

But Thomas only removed a photograph.

He handed it to me.

I looked down.

My mother.

My father.

Thomas.

And Jacqueline.

Standing together.

Behind them was a newborn baby.

Two hospital bracelets sat on the table.

One read:

EMILY CARTER

The other:

JACQUELINE MOORE

I looked up.

Thomas whispered,

"Your mother didn't switch the babies."

My heart pounded.

"Then who did?"

Thomas smiled.

"Your father."

I turned toward Daniel.

He was crying.

Thomas continued,

"He didn't save you."

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He leaned closer.

"He stole you."