Chapter 6 - The Photograph
I stared at Thomas’s handwriting until the words blurred.
My grandson.
I’ll make this right someday.
Thomas had been kind to me.
Quiet.
Reserved.
He died three years after Emma was born.
He had adored her.
Every Christmas, he made wooden ornaments with her name burned into the back.
Never once did he mention Lucas.
“Why didn’t Thomas tell Michael?”
Natalie gave a bitter smile.
“He tried.”
According to her, Thomas confronted Diane.
The argument became so ugly that Diane threatened to leave him and expose private financial problems from his company.
Natalie never knew exactly what those problems were.
Thomas then asked Natalie for time.
He promised to get independent testing.
But Natalie was exhausted.
Humiliated.
Alone with an infant.
“I told him I was done fighting the Bennett family.”
Thomas continued sending birthday cards for Lucas.
Sometimes money.
Then Diane discovered it.
The cards stopped.
“You’re sure?”
Natalie reached into her bag again.
Three unopened envelopes appeared.
All had been returned to sender.
All carried Thomas’s handwriting.
“Diane gave these to Michael after Thomas died.”
I looked up.
“How do you know?”
“Michael told me six months ago.”
That was another detail he had omitted.
I leaned back.
“So Michael has known for six months that his father suspected the truth.”
“Yes.”
“And he still didn’t tell me.”
Natalie looked uncomfortable.
“I’m not defending him.”
“Good.”
She took a breath.
“There’s more.”
I almost laughed.
That phrase had become my personal nightmare.
“What now?”
“Thomas left a letter.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“He told me he wrote one.”
“He said if anything happened to him before he fixed things, the letter would explain what Diane did.”
My skin prickled.
“Did Michael know?”
“I told him.”
“When?”
“The first Thursday we met.”
Six months.
Again.
I stood abruptly.
Natalie watched me.
“Claire.”
“I need air.”
Outside, cold wind cut across the parking lot.
I stood beside my car and called Michael.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“With Natalie.”
Silence.
“She showed me the photograph of your father holding Lucas.”
Another silence.
I closed my eyes.
“How many times were you planning to let me discover the truth from someone else?”
“Claire, I was trying to understand it myself.”
“Did you know Thomas left a letter?”
“Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
“Did you look for it?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I found something.”
My heart began pounding.
“What?”
Michael lowered his voice.
“Dad had a safe-deposit box.”
I waited.
“The bank notified Mom after he died.”
“She emptied it before anyone else could get there.”
“Diane has the letter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why didn’t you confront her?”
Michael said nothing.
I understood.
Because confronting Diane was the one thing Michael had spent his entire life avoiding.
I hung up.
When I returned to the café, Natalie looked at me carefully.
“Did he admit it?”
“Yes.”
She nodded as though she had expected nothing else.
Then she said something that made me stop.
“Claire, Diane has met Lucas.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Three times.”
“Since when?”
“Since Michael found out.”
The woman who had insulted my parenting and praised Natalie at Sunday dinner had been secretly visiting Michael’s hidden son.
I sat back down.
And suddenly, Diane’s words at dinner sounded completely different.
At least Michael’s first wife knew how to raise a child.
May you like
She had not been remembering Natalie.
She had been reporting on her.
