Chapter 5
I stared at the document in my father's hands.
"Mom, what do you mean that paper wasn't supposed to exist?"
She didn't answer.
Aunt Nia stepped closer.
"Claire."
My mother shook her head.
"I thought it had been destroyed."
Dad looked at her.
"Destroyed by whom?"
She began crying.
"Daniel."
My stomach tightened.
I looked at the document again.
The signature.
The settlement.
The strange custody petition.
For seventeen years, my family had been living with a secret.
Now every answer seemed to create three more questions.
"Start from the beginning," I said.
Mom sat down slowly.
Her hands trembled.
"When I left Daniel, he was angry."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"He believed I'd embarrassed him."
Aunt Nia crossed her arms.
"That's putting it mildly."
Mom looked toward her.
"Nia, please."
My aunt shook her head.
"No. Jordan deserves the truth."
I looked between them.
"What did he do?"
Mom took a deep breath.
"He threatened to ruin my life."
My chest tightened.
"He said he'd tell everyone I was unfaithful. He said he'd make sure Marcus lost his job."
Dad looked down.
I turned toward him.
"You knew?"
He nodded.
"Some of it."
Mom continued.
"After you were born, Daniel filed a custody petition."
My stomach twisted.
"Because he thought he was my father?"
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"And then?"
"He demanded money to withdraw it."
I stared at her.
"Mom, that's blackmail."
She nodded slowly.
"I know."
Aunt Nia stepped forward.
"Claire, tell him who arranged the payment."
Mom looked toward her.
Then lowered her head.
"My father."
I froze.
"Grandpa?"
My grandfather, Harold Bennett, had died five years earlier.
He was a successful attorney.
A man who always wore expensive suits and spoke as though nobody could question him.
I remembered sitting in his office as a little boy.
He'd give me candy and tell me to work hard.
Now I was learning he might have paid someone to keep me hidden from my own history.
"Grandpa paid Daniel?"
Mom nodded.
"He handled the agreement."
Dad looked furious.
"Claire, you told me the petition was dismissed because Daniel had no legal claim."
She began crying.
"I know."
My heart pounded.
"Why would Grandpa forge Dad's signature?"
Mom whispered, "I don't know."
Aunt Nia looked unconvinced.
I noticed.
"Aunt Nia?"
She looked at me.
"What aren't you saying?"
She hesitated.
Then reached into her jacket.
She removed a small envelope.
"I found this among Dad's papers after he died."
My stomach tightened.
"What is it?"
She handed it to Marcus.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Dad unfolded it.
His expression changed as he read.
Then he passed it to me.
I recognized Grandpa's handwriting.
It was dated seventeen years earlier.
Claire,
The agreement is complete.
Daniel has accepted the payment and agreed to withdraw his petition.
Marcus must not know the full terms.
The matter is settled.
Do not contact Daniel again.
I stared at the letter.
My grandfather had deliberately kept Dad in the dark.
I looked at Mom.
"You knew?"
She started crying.
"Yes."
I stepped backward.
"Why?"
Her voice broke.
"Because I was afraid Marcus would leave."
Dad stared at her.
His face looked devastated.
"Claire."
She reached toward him.
"I loved you."
He shook his head.
"Love doesn't excuse seventeen years of lies."
Mom began sobbing.
I looked away.
I couldn't watch them.
Not because I didn't care.
Because it hurt too much.
That evening, Dad contacted a family attorney named Rebecca Hayes.
She agreed to review the documents.
She also recommended that we arrange independent DNA testing through an accredited laboratory.
I agreed immediately.
I wanted facts.
Not stories.
Not assumptions.
Not more secrets.
Two days later, I sat in a medical office while a technician collected samples.
Dad came with me.
He held my jacket while I filled out the paperwork.
I looked at him.
"Are you nervous?"
He smiled sadly.
"Of course."
I swallowed.
"What if we're not related?"
He looked at me.
"Then we'll still go home together."
My eyes filled.
"You mean that?"
He nodded.
"Jordan, you're my son."
I looked down.
I wanted to believe that would always be enough.
But part of me still needed to know where I came from.
The following week, Rebecca called.
She had discovered something unusual.
The original custody agreement had been filed using an attorney who later lost his license for financial misconduct.
His name was Samuel Price.
I stared at Dad.
"Do you know him?"
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
Rebecca continued.
"The records also suggest Daniel may have received additional payments after the supposed settlement."
My stomach tightened.
"How much?"
"At least eighty thousand dollars over several years."
I stared at her.
"From whom?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"Accounts connected to Harold Bennett."
Grandpa.
Again.
I felt sick.
Why would my grandfather keep paying Daniel after the custody petition was withdrawn?
Rebecca explained that the payments could have been related to the earlier agreement, but the records didn't establish their purpose.
I nodded.
At least she was being honest.
Then she said something unexpected.
"There's another issue."
I swallowed.
"What?"
"The handwritten note found on your staircase may be connected to someone who has recently contacted Daniel."
My heart raced.
"Who?"
Rebecca looked toward Dad.
"A former employee of Harold Bennett."
I frowned.
"What employee?"
"A woman named Patricia Ellis."
The name sounded vaguely familiar.
Then I remembered.
Patricia had worked as Grandpa's office manager.
She used to give me candy when I visited.
I hadn't seen her since his funeral.
Rebecca continued.
"She contacted my office this morning."
My heart pounded.
"What did she say?"
"She claims she knows why Daniel came back."
I leaned forward.
"Why?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"She says he's searching for a document your grandfather hid before his death."
I stared at her.
"What document?"
Her voice grew serious.
"A sealed paternity report."
I stopped breathing.
Then I looked at Dad.
His face was completely still.
A report.
A real report.
May you like
Maybe the truth had existed all along.
And somebody had spent seventeen years making sure I never saw it.
