Chapter 4: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Margaret Carter stood outside the garage, her voice unmistakable.
“Emily, open this door.””
I looked at Hammer.
He had gone completely still.
Walt moved toward the side entrance, positioning himself between Noah and the sound of the knocking.
“Who did she bring?”” I whispered.
Hammer shook his head.
“I don't know.””
Then Margaret knocked again.
“Emily! I know you're in there. We need to talk.””
I took Noah's hand.
“I'm not opening that door.””
Hammer glanced at the photograph still resting inside the red box.
“Neither am I.””
A man's voice came from outside.
“Jackson. It's been a long time.””
Hammer's face drained of color.
The wrench slipped from his hand and hit the concrete.
Walt stared at him.
“No.””
The man's voice came again.
“Come on, brother. Don't make this difficult.””
I felt Noah squeeze my fingers.
“Mom,” he whispered.
“That's the man.””
“What man, sweetheart?””
“The one who stood beside Daddy in my dream.””
Hammer slowly turned toward him.
“What did you say?””
Noah pointed at the door.
“The man Daddy said not to trust.””
My skin prickled.
Hammer reached for the photograph in his vest.
“Walt, tell me I'm hearing things.””
Walt shook his head.
“I hear him too.””
Then Margaret spoke again.
“Jackson, please. Just open the door. We can explain everything.””
Hammer walked toward the entrance.
“Explain what, Margaret?””
There was a pause.
Then she answered.
“Your brother isn't dead.””
The words struck me like a physical blow.
I stared at Hammer.
He looked as if someone had punched him in the chest.
“That's impossible,” he whispered.
The man outside laughed.
“Still stubborn, little brother?””
Hammer gripped the metal door handle.
Walt caught his arm.
“Don't.””
“Move.””
“Jackson, think.””
“I've been thinking for eight years.””
Hammer pulled his arm free.
He opened the door.
Margaret stood on the step wearing a cream-colored coat and pearl earrings. Her silver hair was perfectly arranged, and her expression was composed.
Beside her stood a man in a dark jacket.
He was older than the man in the photograph, but the resemblance was undeniable.
Dark hair.
Broad shoulders.
A crooked smile.
And a thin scar running along his left cheek.
Daniel.
My husband.
The man I had watched being lowered into the ground.
The man whose ashes I had scattered beside the river.
The man whose photograph Noah kissed every night before bed.
I couldn't breathe.
“Daniel?””
The man looked at me.
For a moment, something flickered across his face.
Then he smiled.
“Hello, Emily.””
My knees nearly gave way.
Hammer stepped forward.
“You son of a—”
Margaret raised her hand.
“Jackson, please. Not in front of the child.””
Hammer pointed at the man.
“You let me bury my brother.””
Daniel's smile disappeared.
“I didn't have a choice.””
“You didn't have a choice?”” Hammer repeated.
“I stood at your funeral!””
“I know.””
“I carried your coffin!””
“I know, Jackson.””
Hammer shoved him against the doorframe.
“You watched me cry over an empty grave?””
Daniel didn't resist.
“I'm sorry.””
I stepped forward.
“Stop.””
Both men turned.
I looked directly at my husband.
“Are you alive?””
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.””
“Were you alive when I gave birth to Noah?””
He looked down.
“Yes.””
“Were you alive when I buried you?””
“Yes.””
My voice cracked.
“Were you alive when I sat beside our son's bed and explained why his father would never come home?””
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Emily—”
“Don't say my name.””
The garage fell silent.
I could hear Noah breathing beside me.
He was staring at Daniel with wide eyes.
“Daddy?””
Daniel's face changed.
He took one step forward.
“Hey, buddy.””
Noah didn't move.
“You're my daddy?””
Daniel nodded.
“Yes, son.””
Noah looked at me.
I had no answer.
The man I had loved for years was standing in front of us, alive, wearing a stranger's face.
Then Noah asked the question that broke something inside me.
“Why didn't you come to my birthday parties?””
Daniel's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Margaret stepped forward.
“Sweetheart, your father had to stay away to protect you.””
I turned toward her.
“Don't you dare speak to my son.””
She stiffened.
“Emily, you don't understand the situation.””
“Then explain it.””
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“Eight years ago, I got involved in something dangerous. There were people looking for me. I couldn't let them find my family.””
Hammer laughed bitterly.
“So you faked your death?””
“I had no other option.””
“You could have called me!””
“They were watching you too.””
“That's convenient.””
Margaret interrupted.
“Jackson, enough. We all made sacrifices.””
Hammer turned toward her.
“You made sacrifices? You let me spend eight years believing my brother was dead!””
She looked away.
Daniel stepped between them.
“Mom did what she thought was necessary.””
I stared at him.
“Your mother knew?””
Daniel nodded.
“She helped arrange everything.””
The room seemed to spin.
I looked at Margaret.
“You told me you were devastated. You held me at the funeral. You helped me choose a headstone.””
Margaret's eyes filled.
“I was protecting you.””
“From what?””
Neither answered.
Then Walt walked toward the door and looked outside.
“Jackson.””
“What?””
“There's another vehicle.””
Hammer glanced toward the road.
A black SUV had pulled up behind Margaret's car.
Two men stepped out.
Daniel's expression changed immediately.
“Get the boy out of here.””
Hammer turned.
“Who are they?””
Daniel reached inside his jacket.
“They found me.””
Margaret grabbed his arm.
“You said we had more time!””
Daniel pulled away.
“I thought we did.””
One of the men approached the entrance.
He raised a hand.
“Daniel Carter?””
Daniel stared at him.
The man smiled.
“Mr. Carter, we're here to finish what should have happened eight years ago.””
Hammer stepped in front of Noah.
May you like
And Daniel whispered something that made my blood turn cold.
“Emily, whatever happens, don't let them take the red box.””
