Chapter 6: The Man Who Died in My Father's Place
I couldn't move.
The photograph was still on my phone.
Lucas.
My father.
And a date that should have been impossible.
Three days ago.
My father had been dead for two years.
I looked at Nathan.
He was staring at the same photograph.
“You knew.”
His face was drained of color.
“No.”
“You knew he was alive.”
“I didn't.”
“Then why aren't you surprised?”
Nathan looked at Claire.
“Because I knew the person who died wasn't him.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did you just say?”
Nathan lowered his voice.
“Your father planned his death.”
I stared at him.
“That's insane.”
“He knew someone was coming for him.”
“Who?”
Nathan shook his head.
“I never knew his name.”
“Then how did he survive?”
“He didn't.”
I frowned.
“You just said—”
“Your father disappeared.”
Nathan looked at me.
“The man buried in that coffin wasn't him.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“The body was someone else's.”
“Then why did you tell me Dad was dead?”
“Because everyone believed it.”
“Everyone?”
Nathan nodded.
“Your mother. The lawyers. The police. The company.”
I looked at Claire.
She was crying silently.
“You knew?”
She nodded.
“I found out after your father died.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“That if anything happened to me, I would protect you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You've done a terrible job.”
Nathan flinched.
“You're right.”
He looked down at the gun.
“I failed.”
Suddenly, the hospital lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
Emergency lights came on.
Red.
The corridor became a dim tunnel.
Claire grabbed my arm.
“Daniel.”
I looked toward the door.
Footsteps.
Someone was running down the hallway.
Then a crash.
A nurse screamed.
Nathan raised his gun.
“Get down!”
We ducked.
A shadow moved past the frosted glass.
Then disappeared.
Nathan opened the door slightly.
The hallway was empty.
But there was blood on the floor.
Fresh blood.
I stepped outside.
A hospital security guard was lying near the elevator.
Unconscious.
Beside him was a small black envelope.
My name was written on it.
I picked it up.
Nathan grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because that's exactly what they want.”
I opened it anyway.
Inside was a photograph.
Not of Lucas.
Not of my father.
Of me.
Standing beside Claire on our wedding day.
On the back:
You married her because we needed you to.
I stared at the words.
Nathan went silent.
Claire began crying.
“What does that mean?”
I turned toward her.
“Claire?”
She covered her face.
“I wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
She looked at Nathan.
Then back at me.
“Your father arranged our marriage.”
I felt as though someone had punched me.
“What?”
“It wasn't supposed to happen that way.”
“Then how?”
She took a breath.
“Your father knew I was carrying Lucas.”
I shook my head.
“I thought you met me five years ago.”
“I did.”
“Then why did Dad arrange it?”
“Because he needed Lucas to disappear.”
I couldn't speak.
Claire continued.
“He believed Nathan would come looking for his son.”
“He wanted me to raise Lucas?”
“Yes.”
“But Lucas isn't living with us.”
“He was never supposed to be.”
I stared at her.
“Then where has he been?”
“Your father hid him.”
“Where?”
She hesitated.
“Your house.”
I froze.
“What?”
“There's a room beneath the nursery.”
I remembered the nursery.
The room we had prepared for our unborn baby.
The room Claire had always insisted remain locked.
I suddenly understood.
Every time I asked about the locked door, Claire had said:
“It's just storage.”
She had lied.
I turned toward the hospital exit.
“I need to go home.”
Nathan grabbed my shoulder.
“No.”
“Let go.”
“It's a trap.”
“I don't care.”
“They know you'll go there.”
“Then let them come.”
Nathan stared at me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he handed me his gun.
“You'll need this.”
I looked at him.
“You trust me with a gun?”
“I trust you more than I trust myself.”
We left the hospital through the rear entrance.
My car was parked in the alley.
The drive home felt endless.
Rain hammered the windshield.
Neither of us spoke.
Claire remained at the hospital under police protection.
Nathan sat beside me.
After ten minutes, he finally said:
“There is something else you need to know.”
“What?”
“Your father didn't just hide Lucas.”
I glanced at him.
“He changed his identity.”
“To what?”
Nathan looked out the window.
“Yours.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“You mean Lucas has been registered as my son?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Nathan looked at me.
“He has been registered as you.”
I slammed the brakes.
The car stopped at a red light.
“What?”
“Your father erased Lucas's identity.”
“Why?”
“Because someone was searching for him.”
“Who?”
Nathan whispered,
“His real father.”
I stared at him.
“That's you.”
Nathan shook his head.
“No.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who?”
Nathan looked directly at me.
“The man who has been controlling our family.”
I felt a cold pressure in my chest.
“Who is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You've been hiding this for eight years.”
“Yes.”
“And you still don't know?”
“I know what he did.”
“What?”
Nathan's eyes filled with fear.
“He killed your father.”
I swallowed.
“You said Dad wasn't dead.”
“He isn't the man we buried.”
“Then who was?”
Nathan looked away.
“A man named Marcus Vale.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Who is Marcus Vale?”
“My father's closest business partner.”
I remembered the company records.
Property transfers.
Nathan's name.
Unknown accounts.
“Why would he die for Dad?”
“Because Dad asked him to.”
I stared at Nathan.
“Why?”
“Because someone was going to kill your father.”
“Who?”
Nathan's voice became almost inaudible.
“His other son.”
The car went silent.
I slowly turned toward him.
“Dad had another son.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Nathan looked at me.
“We don't know.”
“You just said your father had another son.”
“I said we don't know who he is.”
“Why?”
“Because your father erased him from every record.”
I shook my head.
“Why would he erase his own child?”
Nathan stared at the road.
“Because that child wasn't normal.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“He was dangerous.”
I laughed.
“Dangerous? He was a child.”
Nathan didn't laugh.
“He killed someone when he was twelve.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“Who?”
“Your father's lawyer.”
I couldn't answer.
The light turned green.
I drove.
Twenty minutes later, we reached my house.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
The front door was unlocked.
I stopped.
“I locked that.”
Nathan pulled the gun from his jacket.
“Stay behind me.”
We entered.
The house was dark.
No lights.
No movement.
I walked toward the nursery.
The door was open.
The crib stood empty.
Claire's pregnancy books were scattered across the floor.
I stepped inside.
“Where's the hidden room?”
Nathan pointed toward the closet.
“Behind it.”
We moved the wardrobe.
A narrow doorway appeared.
My heart began pounding.
I opened it.
Stairs descended into darkness.
At the bottom was a small room.
A bed.
A desk.
Children's books.
Photographs.
Drawings.
Someone had lived there.
Recently.
I picked up a drawing.
It showed three people.
A little boy.
A woman.
And a man.
The man had no face.
Underneath, a child had written:
Daddy.
Nathan found something on the desk.
A school report.
I looked at the name.
My blood froze.
Lucas Parker.
Age: 8.
Father: Daniel Parker.
Mother: Claire Parker.
I stared at Nathan.
“This is impossible.”
Nathan shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed to the bottom.
There was a handwritten note.
He was here yesterday.
Then another line.
He knows where the real father is.
I heard a noise upstairs.
A door slammed.
Nathan raised the gun.
We climbed the stairs.
The house was empty.
But the front door stood open.
On the floor was another envelope.
I picked it up.
Inside was a single photograph.
Lucas was sitting in a car.
Someone sat beside him.
Only part of the person's face was visible.
But I recognized the eyes.
My eyes.
Nathan stared at the photograph.
Then whispered:
“No.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He pointed at the man beside Lucas.
“That isn't your father.”
“Then who is it?”
Nathan stepped backward.
His face was full of horror.
“Daniel...”
“What?”
“He looks exactly like you.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A child's voice whispered:
“Dad, don't trust Uncle Nathan.”
Then the call ended.
I slowly turned toward my brother.
Nathan had tears in his eyes.
“Daniel...”
I raised the gun.
“Tell me the truth.”
He didn't answer.
“Tell me who the man in the photograph is.”
Nathan finally whispered:
“Your twin brother.”
My hand went numb.
“My what?”
“Your twin.”
The room fell silent.
Then Nathan added:
“Your parents told everyone you were the only child.”
He looked at the photograph.
“But they lied.”
I stared at the face beside Lucas.
My face.
My eyes.
My father's eyes.
And suddenly, I understood why my mother had been terrified of the safe.
Why my father had disappeared.
Why Claire had been drugged.
Why Lucas had been hidden.
Because my family wasn't hiding one secret.
They were hiding an entire person.
And that person had just taken my son.
My phone vibrated one final time.
A message appeared:
COME TO THE OLD FAMILY CEMETERY.
BRING NATHAN.
COME BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
May you like
Then another message arrived.
OR YOUR TWIN KILLS LUCAS.
