Chapter 4
By sunrise, I had made one decision.
Ethan Walker was not going to intimidate my family into silence.
Not with threats.
Not with photographs.
And certainly not by using my daughter as leverage.
I called David before seven.
He answered on the second ring.
"Marcus?"
"Ethan contacted me."
I forwarded the messages.
David read them while I waited.
Then his voice became serious.
"Do not respond."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good. We're reporting this."
Within an hour, I had spoken with the local police department.
I provided the messages, photographs, and evidence of Ethan's attempts to contact Maya.
An officer took my statement and explained the next steps for documenting potential harassment and stalking.
I also contacted Maya's school.
The principal, Mrs. Richardson, agreed to meet me immediately.
I drove there with Maya beside me.
She was unusually quiet.
When we reached the parking lot, she looked around nervously.
I hated seeing that fear in her eyes.
I reached across the console.
"Sweetheart, you're safe with me."
She nodded.
But I could tell she was trying to believe it.
Inside the principal's office, Maya explained how Ethan had contacted her.
Mrs. Richardson listened carefully.
Then she said, "We'll make sure staff understand that no unauthorized person is permitted to approach Maya during school hours."
Maya looked embarrassed.
"I don't want everyone knowing."
"They won't," the principal assured her.
"We'll handle this discreetly."
I thanked her.
As we were leaving, Maya stopped.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"Can I still go to prom?"
The question nearly broke me.
With everything happening, she was still a teenager who wanted one beautiful night with her friends.
I smiled gently.
"Of course."
She looked uncertain.
"Even after the argument?"
I sighed.
"We'll figure out a reasonable budget together."
Her expression softened.
"Really?"
"Really."
She hugged me.
And for a moment, I felt like we were still the family we'd been a week earlier.
Then my phone rang.
Denise.
I stepped aside.
"What is it?"
Her voice was trembling.
"Marcus, Ethan came to the house."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"He was standing outside the gate."
"Did you let him in?"
"No."
"Is he still there?"
"I don't think so."
I closed my eyes.
"Call the police if he returns. Don't open the door."
"Marcus, I'm scared."
I wanted to comfort her.
For nineteen years, comforting Denise had been instinctive.
But now I didn't know what to say.
"Stay inside. I'll be home soon."
When I returned, Denise was sitting in the living room.
She looked exhausted.
Her eyes were swollen.
For the first time since our argument, I noticed how frightened she truly was.
I sat across from her.
"We need to talk honestly."
She nodded.
"Okay."
"Why did Ethan come back after all these years?"
She took a shaky breath.
"He lost his business."
"What business?"
"He owned a car dealership."
"And?"
"It failed. He had debts."
I studied her.
"How did he find you?"
"Through social media."
I waited.
She lowered her eyes.
"I answered one of his messages."
"Why?"
"Because I thought enough time had passed."
I stared at her.
"Did you meet him?"
She hesitated.
My chest tightened.
"Denise."
"Once."
I felt a sharp pain in my stomach.
"When?"
"Four months ago."
"Where?"
"At a coffee shop."
"What happened?"
"He asked about Maya."
I leaned forward.
"And you told him?"
She nodded.
"I said she was doing well."
"Did you tell him he might be her father?"
Denise started crying.
"Yes."
I looked away.
I needed a moment.
She had reopened a door that had been closed for seventeen years.
Then she had tried to hide the consequences by draining our savings.
And now Maya was paying the price.
I turned back.
"Did you have another relationship with him?"
She shook her head quickly.
"No. I swear."
I looked into her eyes.
I wanted to believe her.
But trust no longer came easily.
"What happened after the coffee shop?"
"He asked for five thousand dollars."
"Why?"
"He said he was desperate."
"And you gave it to him."
She nodded.
"Then he wanted more."
I rubbed my forehead.
"He realized you were afraid."
"Yes."
"And kept demanding money."
"Yes."
I stared at the floor.
"Why didn't you tell me before it got this far?"
Denise's voice broke.
"Because I thought you'd leave me."
I looked at her.
"And what do you think hiding it has done?"
She began sobbing.
I didn't answer my own question.
I didn't need to.
That afternoon, David contacted me with information about Ethan.
He had located public records showing several civil judgments related to unpaid debts.
Ethan's dealership had closed the previous year.
There were also filings connected to an eviction dispute.
Nothing proved he had committed a crime against us.
But it showed a man under serious financial pressure.
David warned me again.
"Do not confront him. Let the authorities handle the threats."
I agreed.
Then he mentioned something unexpected.
"Marcus, there's another person you should know about."
"Who?"
"Ethan has a former wife."
I frowned.
"So?"
"She contacted my office after learning about the situation."
My pulse quickened.
"Why?"
"She says Ethan has lied about his past before. She wants to provide information."
I sat forward.
"What's her name?"
"Angela Walker."
"Can we speak with her?"
"Through my office, yes."
The next morning, Angela arrived.
She was a Black woman in her early forties with tired eyes and a calm, guarded expression.
She sat across from David and me.
"I don't want trouble," she said immediately.
"We don't either," I replied.
She looked at me.
"Ethan has been using women for money for years."
I felt my jaw tighten.
She continued.
"When we were married, he borrowed money from my family. He told different people different stories about why he needed it."
"Did he ever threaten you?"
She nodded.
"When I refused to pay his debts, he threatened to tell my employer lies about me."
I leaned forward.
"Did he?"
"He tried. Fortunately, nobody believed him."
David asked several careful questions.
Angela answered.
Then she looked directly at me.
"There's something else."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
She opened her bag and removed an old envelope.
"Ethan told me years ago that he had a daughter."
I froze.
"He told you about Maya?"
Angela shook her head.
"No."
I stared at her.
"Then who?"
She placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Ethan standing beside a young girl.
The girl looked about twelve.
Angela spoke quietly.
"Her name is Brianna."
I looked at the photograph.
Then at Angela.
"What does this have to do with Maya?"
Angela swallowed.
"Because Ethan told Brianna the same thing he's telling your daughter."
My heart began pounding.
"Which is?"
Angela's voice hardened.
"That he was her father."
I stared at her.
"Was he?"
She shook her head.
"No. A court-ordered DNA test proved he wasn't."
I felt cold.
May you like
Angela leaned closer.
"And Marcus, he knew it before he ever made the claim."
