Chapter 8 - The Recording Nobody Was Supposed to HearThe phrase stayed in my head.
The night Lily was poisoned.
I couldn't even make myself breathe.
"Where is the recording?" I asked.
Mom shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You just said there was one."
"Your father found it."
"Then where?"
"He hid it."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Daniel stepped in.
"When did he make the recording?"
"Three days after Lily died."
My hands curled into fists.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Because he was trying to keep you alive."
Victor looked at Mom.
"Richard believed Mercer had people inside the hospital."
Mom nodded.
"Doctors?"
"Staff. Administrators. Anyone who could alter records."
Daniel went pale.
I noticed.
"You know something."
He didn't answer.
"Daniel."
"Your father's final hospital report was revised."
"By whom?"
"We don't know."
"Who authorized it?"
He hesitated.
"Me."
Silence.
"You?"
"I was acting on Richard's instructions."
"What instructions?"
"He told me to remove one paragraph before the report was filed."
"What paragraph?"
"An observation about the medication."
I stared at him.
"What observation?"
Daniel looked exhausted.
"It stated that the pharmacy seal appeared tampered with."
I stepped backward.
"You erased it."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Richard believed whoever tampered with the medication had access to hospital records."
"So you helped cover it up."
"I helped Richard buy time."
"At my daughter's expense."
His eyes filled with guilt.
"Stephanie, I was trying to protect you."
I turned away.
The phrase sounded poisonous now.
Everyone had been protecting me.
By lying to me.
By hiding things.
By deciding I could not survive the truth.
"What else?" I asked.
Daniel said nothing.
"There's always more."
Victor reached into his coat.
"I found this in your father's old garage."
He handed me a cassette tape.
Old.
Labeled in faded ink.
03/20 - PRIVATE
I stared.
"That's it?"
"We need a player."
The Hawthorne House had dozens of old electronics in storage.
We found a tape recorder in the attic.
The cassette clicked into place.
Static.
Then Dad's voice.
"March twentieth."
My entire body stiffened.
"If this recording survives, then Mercer has probably found out that I know."
A pause.
"I watched Evelyn speak with him."
Mom covered her face.
"I heard them arguing."
Dad's voice continued.
"She told him she would no longer pay."
I looked at my mother.
"Then he threatened her."
Another pause.
"She asked me to help."
My throat tightened.
Dad had known.
He had known Mom was being blackmailed.
"I gave her money."
Mom began crying.
Dad's voice continued.
"But I did not give her enough."
A loud noise in the background.
The sound of a door opening.
Dad lowered his voice.
"Someone is here."
The recording became faint.
Footsteps.
Then a man's voice.
"We need the original ledger."
My blood ran cold.
Dad answered,
"You'll never find it."
The man laughed.
"Your daughter will."
I froze.
My father's breathing changed.
"You stay away from Stephanie."
The man replied,
"She's already involved."
Then came a sound.
A chair scraping.
Someone shouted.
The tape cut out.
Static.
I stood perfectly still.
Daniel replayed it.
Again.
And again.
We heard the same sentence.
She's already involved.
"Involved how?" I whispered.
Victor searched the attic.
My eyes fell on an old wooden trunk.
The lock was broken.
Inside were my childhood belongings.
School notebooks.
Photographs.
A stuffed rabbit.
Then something at the bottom.
An old hospital bracelet.
I lifted it.
My name was written on it.
STEPHANIE HALE.
Date:
Seventeen years ago.
I frowned.
"I wasn't in the hospital."
Mom stared.
"I remember that."
Daniel took the bracelet.
The date was from the year my father supposedly spent six weeks traveling for business.
Victor said,
"Where was Richard?"
Mom answered,
"Chicago."
Daniel looked at her.
"No."
She blinked.
"What?"
"Richard was in Boston."
Mom went pale.
I felt dizzy.
"What happened seventeen years ago?"
Mom shook her head.
"Nothing."
Victor turned to her.
"You knew."
"No."
"You knew."
Mom began crying.
"Stephanie wasn't supposed to survive."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"She was sick as a baby."
I looked at Daniel.
"Why didn't I know?"
Mom couldn't answer.
Victor did.
"Because you were never supposed to learn that your birth was connected to the Mercer family."
The room went silent.
"Connected how?"
Mom finally whispered,
"Your biological father was not Richard."
I couldn't hear anything after that.
My knees buckled.
Daniel caught me.
Victor looked toward the darkness of the attic.
And then we heard a child's voice from downstairs.
Tyler.
"Grandma?"
Mom turned.
A second voice followed.
An adult male.
Calm.
Cold.
May you like
"Hello, Stephanie."
Caleb Mercer had entered the house.
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