CHAPTER 10 The Man Who Shared My Last Name
I couldn't stop staring at the file.
Nathan Monroe.
The name felt like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through every memory I had.
"I've never heard of him," I said.
Detective Brooks believed me.
"I don't think you have."
Officer Daniel frowned.
"Monroe isn't exactly a rare last name."
"No," Brooks agreed. "But after everything else? We don't ignore coincidences anymore."
By the next morning, Brooks had assembled everything the department could legally obtain about Nathan Monroe.
Age: Fifty-two.
Occupation: Senior IT Administrator for the county police department.
Previously employed by the university's Housing Technology Office.
No criminal record.
No disciplinary actions.
Divorced.
No children.
No known connection to Deborah Monroe.
At least...
None on paper.
Brooks requested a quiet interview.
Nathan agreed without hesitation.
He arrived wearing a wrinkled blue button-down shirt and wire-rimmed glasses.
He looked tired more than dangerous.
"I understand you have questions," he said.
Brooks nodded.
"Did you ever access student housing records belonging to Caitlyn Monroe?"
"No."
"Did you know Deborah Monroe?"
Nathan blinked.
"...The teacher?"
"You know her?"
"I knew of her."
"Everyone in Columbus knew who Deborah Monroe was."
That answer wasn't suspicious.
Small towns have long memories.
Then Brooks placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Deborah standing outside her church fundraiser twelve years earlier.
Nathan's eyes lingered on the picture for less than a second.
Too quickly.
Like someone forcing themselves not to react.
"You've met her," Brooks said quietly.
Nathan sighed.
"Once."
"When?"
"About sixteen years ago."
"Where?"
"At a school fundraiser."
"And?"
"She asked if I could help recover deleted files from a family computer."
The room became very still.
"Did you help her?"
"Yes."
"What kind of files?"
"I don't know."
"I never looked."
"I recovered them onto a flash drive."
"She paid cash."
Brooks leaned forward.
"Do you still have any records?"
Nathan shook his head.
"My company only kept invoices for seven years."
The invoice was gone.
But the memory remained.
"What did Deborah say the files were?"
Nathan hesitated.
"She claimed..."
"They were family videos."
Family videos.
The phrase sent a chill through me.
Richard's tapes.
The staged recordings.
The manufactured evidence.
Had those files once been deleted?
Had someone...
Maybe even my father...
Tried to erase them?
Brooks noticed the same possibility.
"Did Deborah mention why the files were deleted?"
Nathan answered slowly.
"She said..."
"Her husband had accidentally formatted the hard drive."
Accidentally.
The word sounded almost laughable now.
After Nathan left, Brooks looked at me.
"I want to find your father."
I stared at her.
"My father left when I was fifteen."
"So I've been told."
"You think he knows something?"
"I think he may have tried to destroy evidence."
Finding him wasn't easy.
His name was Michael Monroe.
He'd moved twice in the past decade.
Changed jobs.
Stopped using social media.
Eventually, a forwarding address led investigators to a small town in Kentucky.
Brooks called first.
No answer.
She left a message.
Three days later...
He called back.
Not Brooks.
Me.
I almost didn't answer.
The number was unfamiliar.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
"...Caitlyn?"
My throat tightened.
I hadn't heard him in twelve years.
"Dad?"
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Finally...
"I've been waiting for this call."
We arranged to meet at a sheriff's office halfway between our towns.
Brooks insisted.
"No private locations."
"No surprises."
I agreed.
When I walked into the interview room...
I barely recognized him.
His hair had turned almost completely gray.
He looked thinner.
Older.
More fragile than the father I remembered.
For several seconds...
Neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered,
"I'm sorry."
The apology didn't erase twelve years.
It didn't erase birthdays.
Graduations.
Lonely holidays.
But it mattered.
A little.
"I thought you abandoned me," I said.
His eyes filled with tears.
"I tried to take you with me."
I frowned.
"What?"
"I filed for custody."
The room disappeared around me.
"You... what?"
"I filed."
"I lost."
He reached into a worn leather folder.
Inside were court documents.
Real ones.
Stamped.
Signed.
Filed.
A custody petition.
His name.
My name.
Date: Twelve years earlier.
I'd never seen them before.
"Mom told me you didn't want me."
He looked devastated.
"I wanted you every single day."
"Then why didn't you fight harder?"
"I did."
He swallowed hard.
"Your mother accused me of abusing you."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"She presented psychiatric records."
"The same diagnosis."
"The same tapes."
"The same witnesses."
Richard.
Jessica.
The manufactured evidence.
It had all been used...
Not just against me.
Against my father.
"I lost everything," Michael whispered.
"The judge believed her."
"I wasn't even allowed to contact you."
I looked toward Detective Brooks.
She quietly nodded.
The court file supported his story.
Every word.
Then my father said something that changed everything.
"I deleted those videos."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"The ones she recovered."
"I found them on the family computer."
"I watched one."
"Only one."
His hands began to shake.
"I couldn't believe what I was seeing."
"So I erased everything."
Nathan had recovered them.
Just as Deborah requested.
"I thought that would end it," he said.
"I thought if the videos were gone..."
"She couldn't use them anymore."
Instead...
She hired someone to recover them.
Nathan.
As the interview came to an end, my father reached into his folder one last time.
"I almost forgot."
"I found this while cleaning my garage last month."
He handed me a small sealed envelope.
It had my name written across the front.
In my own childish handwriting.
Inside was a cassette tape.
Not VHS.
An ordinary audio cassette.
Attached was a yellow sticky note.
In my father's handwriting.
I found this hidden inside your teddy bear. I never listened to it.
The room fell completely silent.
I looked up.
"The teddy bear?"
He nodded.
"The same one you carried everywhere."
The same bear that had mysteriously appeared in my apartment weeks ago.
Someone had returned it to me.
Not empty.
But carrying a secret that had been hidden inside it...
May you like
Since I was a child.
End of Chapter 10
