Chapter 8 - What Daniel Knew
My father had always hated safes.
Not because he distrusted them.
Because he believed people trusted them too much.
“A safe tells a thief exactly where the important things are.”
He had said it when I was twelve.
So naturally, the safe in my apartment contained nothing truly valuable.
The music box wasn’t inside it.
It was beneath the false bottom of an old kitchen cabinet.
Daniel watched me remove it.
“You lied.”
“I protected it.”
“You told Richard it was in a safe.”
“I wanted him to think that.”
Daniel looked at the small wooden box.
It was scratched.
Ordinary.
The tune had stopped working years ago.
“That’s what all of this is about?”
“Apparently.”
I carried it to the table.
Daniel stood across from me.
He had barely spoken during the drive.
Neither had I.
The sentence Elena remembered kept repeating in my head.
DANIEL KNOWS ABOUT THE CHILD.
I opened the lid.
Nothing unusual.
Old velvet lining.
A tiny metal ballerina frozen sideways.
Daniel picked it up.
“How do we open it?”
“I don’t know.”
Then I noticed the bottom.
Four screws.
One was newer than the others.
Daniel found a screwdriver.
I watched him remove the panel.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
A flash drive had been taped beneath the music mechanism.
Daniel exhaled.
“Richard was right.”
I took it.
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“We copy it first.”
I pulled out an old laptop that had never been connected to my home network.
My father taught me that too.
Isolation before curiosity.
The drive was encrypted.
But the password prompt contained a hint.
February 14.
Daniel stared.
“Vanessa’s baby’s birthday.”
“Yes.”
“What password?”
I thought about my father’s notes.
Then Arthur.
Then Adrian.
Then the child.
“Evan.”
Wrong.
“Adrian.”
Wrong.
“Vanessa.”
Wrong.
Daniel whispered.
“Witness.”
I typed it.
The drive opened.
Folders appeared.
FINANCIAL.
MEDICAL.
TRUST.
CROSS.
RICHARD.
EDWARD.
Then one folder that made Daniel step backward.
DANIEL.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
“Claire.”
“What is in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Open it.”
He didn’t hesitate.
Maybe that should have reassured me.
It didn’t.
Inside were five documents and one video.
The first document was scanned handwriting.
My father’s.
Daniel Hale witnessed transfer of infant from clinic parking area.
Age sixteen.
Contradicts later statement.
My heart dropped.
Daniel read over my shoulder.
His face changed.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“You saw the baby.”
“No.”
“My father says you did.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then why would he write this?”
“I don’t know.”
I opened the next file.
A photograph loaded.
Sixteen-year-old Daniel stood beside a black SUV.
Richard was carrying a bundled infant.
Daniel went white.
“That isn’t what it looks like.”
My stomach tightened.
“That’s Vanessa’s baby?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You saw Richard carrying him.”
“I thought it was someone else’s child.”
“At the clinic where your pregnant sister disappeared?”
Daniel looked away.
I stood.
Pain shot through my hip.
I ignored it.
“What happened?”
“Claire.”
“Tell me.”
He pressed both hands against the table.
“I followed Richard.”
“When?”
“The day Vanessa came home.”
“You told your mother?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Vanessa begged me not to.”
“Did she know the baby survived?”
“No.”
“Then what did you see?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Richard drove to Albany.”
My breath caught.
“Elena followed him too.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“What happened?”
“He stopped at a church.”
“A church?”
“There was a couple waiting.”
My pulse quickened.
“Marcus?”
“I didn’t know him then.”
“Was it Marcus?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see Richard give them the baby?”
“Yes.”
My entire body went cold.
“You knew.”
“I knew there was a baby.”
“You knew Richard gave a baby away the day Vanessa came home without hers.”
“I was sixteen.”
“You were old enough to understand.”
“I was terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Richard caught me.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“He found me behind the church.”
“What did he do?”
Daniel stared at the floor.
“He showed me photographs.”
“Of what?”
“My father.”
“Arthur?”
“Yes.”
“With another woman.”
I frowned.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“The woman was pregnant.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He told me Dad had another child.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did Richard say?”
“That if I told anyone about the baby from Vermont, he would destroy my mother with the truth about Dad.”
“That’s why you kept quiet?”
“I was sixteen.”
“You said that already.”
“Because you keep judging sixteen-year-old me like he was the man standing here now.”
I looked away.
He was right about that part.
But there was more.
There was always more.
“Did you ever ask Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“I tried once.”
“And?”
“She had a panic attack.”
I sat down carefully.
“Did you tell my father?”
“No.”
“Then how did he know?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I have no idea.”
I opened another document.
It contained a transcript.
THOMAS BENNETT INTERVIEW WITH D.H.
Daniel stopped breathing.
I looked at him.
“You met my father.”
“No.”
I opened it.
The transcript began with a date.
Eight years ago.
Two years before Daniel and I met.
Daniel’s face collapsed.
“Oh.”
I stared.
“Oh?”
He sat down.
“I didn’t know his name.”
“What?”
“He introduced himself as Tom.”
I wanted to scream.
“What did you tell him?”
Daniel covered his face.
“Everything.”
The transcript confirmed it.
Daniel described following Richard.
The church.
The infant.
The threats.
Arthur’s alleged affair.
Then one line near the bottom.
TB: Do you believe the child lived?
DH: Yes.
TB: Do you know where he is?
DH: I know who took him.
I looked up slowly.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“You told me you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know their names then.”
“Then why did you tell my father you did?”
“Because I saw something later.”
“What?”
“A photograph in Richard’s office.”
“Of whom?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Marcus.”
My heart pounded.
“With Evan?”
“Yes.”
“How old was Evan?”
“Maybe five.”
I stared at him.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“For fifteen years?”
“I didn’t know Evan was Vanessa’s.”
“You suspected enough to tell my father.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Richard?”
“Of what the truth would do.”
“To whom?”
“My family.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Your family has spent twenty years being destroyed by the lie.”
Daniel flinched.
I copied the drive.
Then I removed it.
“We’re giving Marcus the copy.”
“Claire.”
“I need space.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Turn me into one of them.”
I looked directly at him.
“I don’t know who you are right now.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
Good.
Some truths should hurt.
Then Daniel’s phone vibrated.
He answered.
Marcus.
“We found Evan.”
Daniel put him on speaker.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes.”
Relief hit me.
Then Marcus continued.
“But Richard never had him.”
Daniel and I looked at each other.
“What?”
“He was locked in a warehouse office.”
“Who took him?”
“We don’t know.”
“Did he see anyone?”
“No.”
Marcus paused.
“But he found something.”
“What?”
“A passport.”
“Whose?”
Marcus inhaled.
“Adrian Cross.”
Daniel frowned.
“Adrian is dead.”
“That is what we all thought.”
My heartbeat changed.
May you like
Marcus continued.
“The passport was issued six months ago.”
