“Mom… is that my dad?”
Leo’s question hung in the room longer than any accusation could have.
Hannah looked at her son, then at the photograph trembling in Claire’s hand.
“Yes,” she said.
“That’s your father.
His name is Noah Reed.”
Martin gripped the back of an armchair.
“Noah is dead.”
“No,” Hannah replied.
“You told everyone he was dead.”
Claire turned toward her husband.
Martin’s face had lost all color.
Ten years earlier, the newspapers had printed Noah Reed’s photograph beneath a black headline.
Two presumed dead after the Hale-Reed warehouse fire.
Noah’s father, Samuel, had been found inside the ruined building.
Noah’s body had never been recovered, but his damaged car was discovered near the river two days later.
Martin had stood at the memorial service beside Noah’s empty coffin.
He had delivered the eulogy.
He had called Noah the son he never had.
Hannah remembered every word because she had been carrying Noah’s child beneath a loose black dress.
Martin stared at the handwritten message on the back of the photograph.
“Where did you get this?”
“From Noah.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Martin’s hand slipped from the chair.
Claire sat down slowly.
“You’ve known he was alive this entire time?”
Hannah held her mother’s gaze.
“I knew before I left this house.”
Claire’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Martin moved first.
He crossed the room, pulled the curtains closed and checked the front window.
It was the same movement Hannah remembered from the night she had shown him the pregnancy test.
Not outrage.
Fear.
“Who knows you’re here?” he asked.
“Enough people.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting until you tell Mom what happened at the warehouse.”
Martin turned on her.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“You said that when I chose my son.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Hannah’s expression did not change.
“By ordering me to end my pregnancy?”
Martin looked at Leo and lowered his voice.
“There were people watching this family.”
“There was one person watching this family,” Hannah said.
“Your brother.”
Claire looked between them.
“Warren? What does Warren have to do with Noah?”
Martin said nothing.
Hannah had expected denial, but his silence was more revealing.
She turned toward Leo.
“There are books in the room across the hall.
