Chapter 3 - The Photograph in the Drawer
Daniel had always believed his father was Richard Hayes.
Everyone did.
Richard had died when Daniel was twelve.
His photograph still sat on Margaret’s mantel.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Serious eyes.
Daniel looked enough like him that nobody had ever questioned the story.
Until Jessica’s text.
Daniel arrived at noon.
I showed it to him from the doorway.
He read it twice.
Then he laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“That’s insane.”
“Is it?”
“My father was Richard.”
“Then why would Margaret pay Mark ten thousand dollars to avoid DNA testing?”
Daniel stared at the screen.
“I don’t know.”
“And why did Mark steal a page from Lily’s report?”
“I don’t know.”
For years, Daniel’s answer to anything involving Margaret had been some variation of I don’t know.
That day, I finally said it.
“You never want to know.”
His face changed.
“That’s not fair.”
“Your mother chained our daughter outside a birthday party.”
“I know.”
“You stood there.”
“I was in the kitchen.”
“You stood there for five years while she punished Lily for something I never did.”
He lowered his eyes.
That silence answered everything.
I told Daniel he needed to leave.
Instead, he drove straight to Margaret’s house.
I learned later what happened.
He went into Richard’s old study.
Margaret followed him.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding out why you’re afraid of DNA tests.”
She blocked a cabinet.
“Daniel, stop.”
That was enough to make him open it.
Inside were tax records, old deeds, funeral paperwork, and photographs.
At the bottom was a locked wooden box.
Daniel broke the latch.
Inside were letters.
Dozens of them.
All addressed to Margaret.
None were written by Richard.
The earliest was dated six months before Daniel’s birth.
The signature belonged to a man named Samuel Reed.
Daniel recognized the name.
Everyone in town would have.
Samuel Reed had founded Reed Construction, one of the largest privately owned development companies in Massachusetts.
He had died three years earlier.
Daniel opened the first letter.
Margaret tried to snatch it away.
He stepped back.
The letter began with two words.
My Maggie.
By the third paragraph, Daniel understood.
By the fifth, Margaret was crying.
“Richard knew.”
Daniel looked at her.
“What?”
“He knew you weren’t his.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Margaret sat down.
“I was young.”
“You lied to me for thirty-eight years.”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“It’s extremely simple.”
Daniel held up the letters.
“Was Samuel Reed my biological father?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Daniel staggered backward.
Then another thought hit him.
“Why did you hate Claire?”
Margaret looked away.
“Why did you accuse her of cheating?”
No answer.
“Why Lily?”
Margaret’s expression hardened.
And that told him there was more.
He opened another letter.
This one had been written shortly after Daniel’s birth.
Samuel mentioned a trust.
A trust created for any biological children he might have.
Daniel read the paragraph twice.
Then he looked at Margaret.
“You knew.”
She stood.
“Daniel.”
“You knew I might have an inheritance.”
Margaret’s eyes flashed.
“It was never that simple.”
There it was again.
Daniel turned the page.
Attached behind the letter was a photocopy of a legal document.
A beneficiary clause.
Any acknowledged biological child of Samuel Reed would be entitled to a percentage of certain family holdings.
And if that child had descendants, those descendants could inherit the interest.
Daniel suddenly understood why Margaret had been terrified of Lily’s DNA.
But he still didn’t understand why Margaret had spent five years trying to convince everyone Lily wasn’t his daughter.
Then he reached the final letter.
The date was only six months old.
Samuel Reed had been dead for three years.
Which meant Samuel hadn’t written it.
May you like
At the bottom was another signature.
Mark Hayes.
