Chapter 6 - THE SON
His name was Noah Carter.
Fourteen years old.
He lived with Lauren in Evanston.
Twenty-seven miles from Michael’s house.
Twenty-seven miles.
Michael had spent fourteen years living less than an hour from a son he never knew existed.
He sank into a chair.
Rachel placed a photograph on the table.
I didn’t want to look.
I looked anyway.
A teenage boy stood beside a soccer field holding a trophy.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
Michael’s eyes.
The resemblance was brutal.
Michael touched the edge of the photograph but didn’t pick it up.
“How long have you known?”
Rachel answered carefully.
“About Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Three weeks.”
Michael looked at me.
I understood what his expression meant.
He had known for three weeks too.
“You knew.”
He nodded.
I stepped away.
“Claire.”
“Don’t.”
“I was trying to figure out how to tell you.”
“There is no good way to tell your wife you discovered a fourteen-year-old son.”
“I know.”
“Then you tell her badly.”
My voice shook.
“You tell her terrified.”
I pointed at myself.
“You tell her at two in the morning.”
I pointed at the floor.
“You tell her sitting on the kitchen floor if you have to.”
I looked at him.
“But you tell her.”
“I was afraid.”
“So was I ten minutes ago when your mother hit me.”
Michael flinched.
I hated that part of me wanted him to hurt.
But I was done making his fear more important than mine.
Diane stepped closer.
“This proves exactly why I kept it from him.”
We all turned.
She pointed at me.
“Look at you.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“You hid his son for fourteen years and somehow I’m the problem?”
“You’ll use this against him.”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“I’m going to make sure he never becomes you.”
Diane’s face changed.
I continued.
“Because Emma is watching.”
Michael looked toward the stairs.
“And Noah has been watching too, even if you weren’t there.”
Diane’s mouth tightened.
“You know nothing about that boy.”
Rachel answered.
“Actually, Lauren agreed to meet us tomorrow.”
Michael shot to his feet.
“She did?”
Rachel nodded.
“At noon.”
He looked terrified.
Hopeful.
Ashamed.
Then Diane said, “She won’t come.”
Michael turned.
“Why?”
Diane’s answer was almost a whisper.
“Because she knows what happens if she does.”
Every person in the room went still.
I stepped closer.
“What happens?”
Diane looked toward Rachel’s folder.
Then toward Michael.
And for the first time that night, I realized the money had never been about keeping Lauren comfortable.
May you like
It had been about keeping her afraid.
*
