Chapter 7 - The Night I Was BornMy father agreed to meet me.

Not at his house.

Not at the hospital.

At an abandoned church six miles away.

He arrived alone.

His coat was soaked with snow.

He looked older than he had the previous night.

Or maybe I was only seeing him differently.

He sat across from me.

"Your mother didn't know I was coming."

"Did she know you were talking to me?"

"No."

"Good."

I placed the birth record on the table.

"Tell me the truth."

My father stared at it.

"I loved you before I knew the truth."

"What truth?"

"You're not my biological daughter."

I closed my eyes.

He looked down.

"Victor Hale was your father."

I felt almost nothing.

Shock had become something quieter.

Colder.

"Why did you marry Mom?"

"We were already married."

"Then why raise me?"

He looked at me.

"Because I chose to."

I swallowed.

"What happened when I was born?"

He took a long breath.

"Victor was involved with dangerous people. Your mother had been seeing him before we met."

I said nothing.

"She became pregnant."

"With me."

"Yes."

"What did she tell you?"

"That you were mine."

He laughed sadly.

"I believed her."

"What changed?"

"Victor found out you existed."

I leaned forward.

"He wanted me?"

"He wanted control."

"Why?"

"Because you were proof that your mother had been involved with him."

My stomach twisted.

"So he came to the hospital?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

My father looked toward the dark windows.

"Victor was supposed to take you."

"But he didn't."

"He disappeared."

"Why?"

My father hesitated.

"Because someone shot him."

I stared.

"Who?"

He closed his eyes.

"I did."

I couldn't speak.

"You killed my biological father?"

"I thought I did."

The church seemed silent around us.

"Your mother told me to protect you."

"Why lie?"

"Because Victor had enemies."

"That still doesn't explain the records."

"I forged the amended birth certificate."

My voice shook.

"Why?"

"Because I was afraid someone would use you to find him."

"Find him?"

My father stared at me.

"Victor never died."

My blood ran cold.

"What?"

"We believed he had. But ten years later he resurfaced."

"The black SUV."

My father nodded.

"He came back."

"Why now?"

"Because he wants something."

"What?"

My father looked at me.

"Your children."

I stood so fast the chair scraped the floor.

"Why?"

"Because Victor believes blood gives him rights."

I shook my head.

"No."

"He thinks you belong to him."

"He has never met me."

"He has."

I froze.

"What?"

My father reached into his coat.

He pulled out a photograph.

It showed me at age nineteen.

Beside me stood a man.

Victor Hale.

I stared.

I did not remember him.

My father whispered:

"He was watching you long before you knew his name."

Then his phone rang.

He looked at the screen.

His expression changed.

"What?"

He answered.

A voice spoke rapidly.

My father stood.

"Where?"

He looked at me.

Then said:

"Get to the hospital."

My heart dropped.

"What happened?"

He didn't answer immediately.

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Then:

"Someone has entered your daughters' room."