Chapter 5
I barely slept that night.
Marcus lay beside me, staring at the ceiling.
Every few minutes, he shifted.
Then went still again.
I knew he was trying to make sense of everything he'd learned.
A father who hadn't abandoned him.
A grandfather who had threatened his family.
A mother who had hidden the truth for decades.
And another man who had accepted the role of father while knowing Marcus belonged to someone else.
I reached for his hand.
"Are you awake?"
He gave a bitter laugh.
"Do you think I could sleep?"
I moved closer.
He turned toward me.
His eyes were red.
"Claire, I don't know what to believe anymore."
I touched his cheek.
"Then we find out what's true."
He swallowed.
"What if it's worse than we think?"
I looked into his eyes.
"Then we face it together."
He closed his eyes.
For a moment, he looked relieved.
Then he whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Nia."
I nodded.
"I know."
He squeezed my hand.
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"That you'd think I was hiding another woman."
I stared at him.
"Marcus, hiding a pregnant woman from your wife is exactly how you make her think that."
He gave a small, broken laugh.
"I know."
I leaned closer.
"We cannot build a marriage around secrets."
His face became serious.
"You're right."
"Even painful truths."
He nodded.
"No more secrets."
I wanted to believe him.
And for the first time since Nia arrived, I thought maybe we could repair the damage.
The next morning, Marcus called Anthony Johnson.
Anthony had remarried years earlier and lived in South Carolina.
He was sixty-two now.
Marcus hadn't spoken to him in almost three years.
I sat beside my husband while the phone rang.
Anthony answered on the fourth ring.
"Marcus?"
Marcus swallowed.
"Anthony."
There was a pause.
Then Anthony laughed.
"Well, this is a surprise."
Marcus looked at me.
I nodded.
He took a breath.
"I need to ask you something."
"Sure."
"Were you at Lake Mercer on August 12, 1995?"
Silence.
I watched Marcus's face.
"Anthony?"
The older man cleared his throat.
"Where did you hear about that?"
Marcus closed his eyes.
"Just answer me."
Anthony hesitated.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
Marcus gripped the phone.
"Did you know Daniel Price was my father?"
Another long silence.
Then Anthony whispered, "Yes."
Marcus covered his face.
I held his shoulder.
For years, he'd called Anthony Dad.
He'd tried to earn his approval.
He'd endured cold birthdays and missed school events.
And now Anthony was admitting he knew the truth all along.
Marcus's voice cracked.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Anthony sighed.
"It wasn't my place."
Marcus stared at the phone.
"Not your place?"
"Your mother made her choices."
Marcus suddenly stood.
"YOU WERE THERE!"
I flinched.
He paced across the room.
"You watched my father get attacked!"
Anthony's tone hardened.
"Careful, boy."
Marcus stopped.
His expression changed.
"Don't call me boy."
"Marcus—"
"I'm thirty-eight years old."
His voice trembled.
"And you helped steal my father from me."
Anthony said nothing.
Marcus continued.
"Did Grandpa pay you?"
I stared at him.
The question had never occurred to me.
Anthony hesitated.
Then said, "That's a complicated matter."
Marcus laughed bitterly.
"Of course it is."
He looked toward me.
I could see the answer forming in his mind.
"How much?"
Anthony remained silent.
"How much did Walter pay you to marry my mother and keep quiet?"
Finally, Anthony spoke.
"Your grandfather helped me start my business."
Marcus closed his eyes.
I felt sick.
Anthony continued.
"He wanted stability for Evelyn and you."
Marcus shook his head.
"Stability?"
His voice broke.
"You took money to pretend to be my father."
Anthony became defensive.
"I raised you."
Marcus stared at the floor.
"You lived in our house."
"That's the same thing."
"No."
Marcus's voice became quiet.
"It isn't."
Anthony began speaking again.
But Marcus ended the call.
He stood motionless.
Then he threw the phone onto the couch.
I moved toward him.
He shook his head.
"Don't."
I stopped.
He rubbed his face.
"I need a minute."
I nodded.
And waited.
After a while, he sat down.
I sat beside him.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"All these years, I thought something was wrong with me."
My chest tightened.
"What do you mean?"
He swallowed.
"Anthony never looked at me the way other fathers looked at their sons."
I felt tears fill my eyes.
"He was always distant."
Marcus stared at his hands.
"When I graduated high school, he didn't come."
I remembered that story.
Marcus had always told me Anthony was busy.
"When I got my first job, he said it wasn't good enough."
I touched his arm.
"When Caleb was born, he didn't visit for three months."
His voice broke.
"I kept wondering what I did wrong."
I leaned closer.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
He looked at me.
"I spent thirty-eight years trying to earn love from someone who was paid to pretend."
I pulled him into my arms.
He began crying.
And I held him until he stopped shaking.
Later that afternoon, Nia called.
Her voice sounded anxious.
"Claire?"
"Hi, Nia."
"Is Marcus there?"
"Yes."
She hesitated.
"My father's condition has worsened."
My heart dropped.
"What happened?"
"He's been admitted to the hospital."
I looked toward Marcus.
He immediately stood.
"What hospital?"
Nia gave us the address.
Then she said something that made my stomach tighten.
"There's something he wants Marcus to know before it's too late."
Marcus took the phone.
"What?"
Nia's voice broke.
"He said Anthony wasn't just paid to stay quiet."
Marcus frowned.
"What else?"
"He said Anthony kept something."
My pulse quickened.
"What?"
Nia swallowed.
"A recording from Lake Mercer."
Marcus froze.
I stared at him.
Nia continued.
"My father says it proves what really happened that day."
Marcus's face changed.
"Where is it?"
There was silence.
May you like
Then Nia whispered, "Anthony has it."
And suddenly I understood why Anthony had sounded so frightened when Marcus mentioned the lake.
