Chapter 6 - The Accident That Wasn'tThe police report said Thomas Carter died after losing control of his vehicle on an icy road.
One vehicle.
One impact.
No witnesses.
Case closed.
For twenty-seven years, my mother had told me my father had simply been unlucky.
Now Daniel was telling me something else.
He remembered being there.
He remembered shouting.
He remembered Victor Hale.
And he remembered my father after the crash.
“Alive?” I asked.
Daniel nodded.
“For a few minutes.”
My hands went cold.
“What did you see?”
“I was trapped in the back seat.”
“Was your father hurt?”
“He was bleeding.”
“Then how do you know he was alive?”
“He spoke.”
“What did he say?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Your name.”
I stopped breathing.
“He kept saying your name.”
Richard looked sick.
“What happened to Victor?”
Daniel shook his head.
“He pulled me out.”
“And your father?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“I passed out.”
Silence.
Then Richard stood.
“I know where the accident happened.”
We drove for almost an hour.
The road had changed.
New houses.
New businesses.
But the old curve remained.
Richard pulled over.
“This is where the vehicle was found.”
I stepped out.
Snow had begun to fall.
I stood there staring at the guardrail.
Twenty-seven years ago, my father had been here.
Possibly dying.
Possibly abandoned.
And I had been three years old.
Daniel stood behind me.
“Emily.”
I turned.
“I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not remembering sooner.”
I wanted to hate him.
Instead, I saw a frightened sixteen-year-old boy trapped inside the face of the man standing before me.
We returned to the car.
Richard made a call.
Twenty minutes later, he had the original police file.
Something had changed.
The official report said there had been no second person at the scene.
But Richard found a witness statement.
A gas station attendant.
He had reported seeing a black sedan leaving the area.
The statement was marked confidential.
Why?
Richard showed me.
The witness had given the license plate.
The vehicle belonged to...
Margaret.
Daniel stared.
“No.”
Richard nodded.
“She was there.”
“Mom was at the accident?”
“Yes.”
Daniel's voice became barely audible.
“Why?”
We went home.
Margaret was waiting in the living room.
She was holding a cup of tea.
As if nothing had happened.
Richard walked in.
“Where were you that night?”
She looked at him.
“Which night?”
“The night Thomas died.”
Her hand tightened around the cup.
“I don't remember.”
“You were driving this car.”
Richard placed the police report on the table.
Margaret stared at it.
Then she slowly sat down.
Daniel stood behind me.
His face was pale.
“Mom.”
She looked at him.
“Tell me the truth.”
Margaret said nothing.
Richard stepped forward.
“You abandoned Thomas.”
“No.”
“You were there.”
“I was trying to help.”
“You left him.”
“I panicked.”
“You left him alive.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I didn't know what to do.”
I stepped toward her.
“Why was my father afraid of you?”
She looked at me.
For the first time, there was no arrogance in her expression.
Only exhaustion.
“Because Thomas discovered what Peter and I had done.”
“What did you do?”
She started crying.
But before she could answer, someone knocked on the front door.
Three slow knocks.
Richard turned.
Daniel moved toward the entryway.
I followed.
A man stood outside.
Older.
Gray hair.
Long black coat.
He looked directly at me.
“Emily Carter?”
“Yes?”
He handed me an envelope.
“This belonged to your father.”
“Who are you?”
He stared at Margaret.
“My name is Victor Hale.”
Margaret screamed.
“No!”
Victor's eyes remained fixed on me.
“I was the man who was supposed to kill your father.”
My knees almost gave out.
“But I didn't.”
May you like
He looked at Daniel.
“Your husband knows why.”
