Chapter 6 - The Lie in My Birth CertificateBy sunrise, I no longer trusted the walls around me.
Not the hospital.
Not my parents' house.
Not even the family stories I'd grown up hearing.
Officer Harris photographed the documents.
Daniel sat beside me.
He looked exhausted.
"What does your birth certificate say?"
"Robert Parker."
"Your father?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever seen the original?"
I frowned.
"Of course."
"When?"
"When I got married."
Daniel looked at the file.
"Are you sure?"
I thought about it.
The memory was blurry.
My mother had handled most of the paperwork after my father's surgery.
Maybe I had never actually held the original.
Officer Harris stepped in.
"We can request a certified copy."
"Do it."
He left.
I looked at Daniel.
"Why would someone forge medical records about me?"
"Maybe they didn't."
I stared at him.
"What are you saying?"
"Maybe there's something your parents know."
I hated that sentence.
Because I'd spent thirty years believing there wasn't.
My childhood had never been dramatic.
At least, not in the way people describe dramatic families.
No screaming.
No police.
No scandals.
My parents had money.
They gave me everything.
Private school.
Vacations.
A perfect Christmas every year.
My mother used to say:
"We built you a beautiful life."
Now the sentence sounded different.
Like ownership.
At noon, Officer Harris returned.
He placed a document on the table.
"Your father is listed as Robert Parker."
I exhaled.
Then he added:
"But there's a problem."
"What?"
"The birth record was amended."
I stared at him.
"Amended how?"
"The original record lists a different father."
The room seemed to tilt.
"Who?"
He slid the paper toward me.
I saw the name.
I didn't recognize it.
Daniel did.
He stood immediately.
"No."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He stared at the paper.
"That man."
"Who is he?"
Daniel pointed.
"He's the partner from your mother's phone."
The room went silent.
The same man.
The man with the black SUV.
The man who had disappeared ten years earlier.
My supposed biological father.
I felt numb.
"No."
Officer Harris nodded.
"His name is Victor Hale."
Daniel sat slowly.
"Victor Hale was suspected of financial crimes involving a network of shell companies."
"And my mother?"
"We don't know."
I couldn't think.
My father was Robert.
Or had been.
But if Victor was my biological father...
Why had Robert raised me?
Why hide it?
Why now?
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
Your daughters were not abandoned by accident.
A second message appeared.
Someone wanted them out of the house.
Then a third.
Ask your father what happened in the garage.
I looked at Daniel.
He had read the messages too.
"We're going there."
Officer Harris immediately said no.
"You are not entering that house."
"My daughters nearly died."
"Which is precisely why you should not walk into a possible crime scene."
I stood.
"I need answers."
"You'll get them."
"When?"
He looked at me.
"When we have enough evidence to protect you."
I shook my head.
"Someone nearly killed my children."
Nobody corrected me.
That silence said more than words.
An hour later, I received a call from my father.
His voice trembled.
"Elena."
"What happened in the garage?"
Silence.
Then:
"Your mother told me never to tell you."
"What?"
"Victor came to the house."
"When?"
"The night you were born."
I stopped breathing.
May you like
My father continued.
"He wasn't supposed to survive."
Related Stories
