Chapter 15: The Death Certificate That Lied
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph of my father in the hospital bed.
Alive.
Afraid.
And apparently hiding under another name.
At six the next morning, Rachel arrived at my house.
She found me sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of untouched coffee.
"Did you get any sleep?""
"No.""
She placed her bag on the chair.
"I spoke to Michael. We're going to Samuel's office before the hearing.""
I looked at her.
"He says my father was transferred under another name.""
"I heard.""
"Why would he do that?""
"We need evidence before we draw conclusions.""
I nodded.
Maya was still asleep upstairs.
Jordan had spent the night in the guest room.
Before leaving, I checked on both children.
Maya was curled beneath her pink blanket.
Jordan was sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed.
"You're awake?""
He nodded.
"I heard you talking.""
I sat beside him.
"Are you worried?""
He looked down.
"Is something bad going to happen today?""
I thought about everything that had happened in the past week.
The lies.
The court filings.
The stolen money.
The possibility that my father's final hours had been concealed.
"I don't know what will happen," I admitted.
"But we're going to keep telling the truth.""
Jordan nodded.
"That's what Grandpa Robert would have wanted.""
I smiled faintly.
"Yes. I think it is.""
At eight thirty, Rachel and I arrived at Samuel's office.
He was waiting behind his desk.
There was a thick brown file in front of him.
"I should have told you sooner," he said.
I sat down.
"Then tell me now.""
Samuel opened the file.
He began by explaining that my father had collapsed at the old property office four years earlier.
An ambulance had taken him to the nearest hospital.
But before he arrived, someone had called Samuel.
"Who?""
"Your father.""
I stared at him.
"How?""
"From the ambulance. He had managed to use his phone.""
Samuel turned a page.
"He told me he was afraid someone had tampered with his medication.""
My breath caught.
"Who?""
"He didn't know. He only knew that he'd been feeling unusually weak for several days.""
Rachel leaned forward.
"Was there medical evidence of poisoning?""
Samuel hesitated.
"That was never conclusively established.""
I felt sick.
"Why wasn't I told?""
"Your father specifically asked me not to involve you until he knew who was responsible.""
I stared at him.
"He was my father.""
"I know.""
Samuel lowered his eyes.
"I disagreed with him. But he was frightened, Laura. He believed someone was watching your home.""
I remembered the strange cars I had occasionally noticed outside our house.
Daniel had always told me I was imagining things.
Samuel continued.
"At the hospital, your father became conscious again. He asked to speak with me privately.""
"What did he say?""
"He said the original trust documents had to be protected. He believed Patrick and Evelyn were planning to transfer the company before he could expose them.""
Rachel opened her notebook.
"Who arranged the transfer to another hospital?""
"Your father did. He used an old legal identity connected to a property dispute from years earlier.""
I stared at him.
"Was he hiding from someone?""
"Yes.""
"Who?""
Samuel looked at me.
"Patrick Wells.""
I closed my eyes.
"And then?""
Samuel opened another folder.
Inside was a medical transfer record.
The patient name was different.
But the date of birth matched my father's.
The hospital had recorded his admission under a confidential identity.
"He remained there for two days," Samuel explained.
"Was he conscious?""
"For much of that time.""
I felt tears rising.
"Did he ask about me?""
Samuel nodded.
"Every day.""
My throat tightened.
"Then why didn't anyone tell me?""
Samuel looked devastated.
"He believed you were safer not knowing.""
I shook my head.
"That wasn't his decision to make.""
"I know.""
Rachel examined the medical file.
"How did he eventually die?""
Samuel turned to the final page.
The cause of death was listed as complications following a cardiac event.
There was no mention of poisoning.
No mention of suspicious circumstances.
But something else caught my attention.
The date.
My father had died two days later than the date on his original death certificate.
I looked up.
"Why are there two different dates?""
Samuel hesitated.
"Because the original certificate was filed under his legal identity. The second record was filed under the confidential identity.""
Rachel leaned forward.
"Who knew about the second record?""
"Me. The hospital. And one other person.""
"Who?""
Samuel looked at me.
"Patrick.""
I felt cold.
"He knew?""
Samuel nodded.
"He visited your father on the final morning.""
Rachel immediately wrote that down.
"Was he alone?""
"According to the visitor log, yes.""
I stared at the record.
"Did anyone investigate?""
"The hospital security footage had already been deleted by the time authorities requested it.""
Rachel looked furious.
"That's convenient.""
Samuel closed the folder.
"There's one more thing.""
He reached into his desk and removed a small envelope.
"This was left with me the day your father died.""
I recognized the handwriting.
My father's.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph.
My father was sitting in the hospital bed.
His face looked exhausted, but he was smiling.
Beside him was a woman.
A young nurse.
I recognized her immediately.
Vanessa Cole.
The paralegal who had contacted me about Daniel's divorce filing.
I stared at the photograph.
"She knew my father?""
Samuel nodded.
"She was working at the hospital at the time. Your father trusted her.""
I looked at Rachel.
"That's why she contacted me.""
Samuel nodded again.
"Your father asked her to keep a copy of the original medical records.""
My hands trembled.
"Why?""
"Because he believed someone would eventually try to alter the official record.""
Rachel took the photograph.
"Can we contact Vanessa?""
"I believe she still has the original documents.""
I immediately called her.
She answered quickly.
"Laura?""
"Did you know my father?""
There was a pause.
Then she said, "Yes.""
I closed my eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I wasn't sure it was safe.""
"Safe for whom?""
"For you.""
I took a breath.
"Vanessa, I need the truth.""
Her voice softened.
"Your father asked me to contact you if Daniel ever tried to take control of the company.""
I looked at Rachel.
"Why Daniel?""
"Because your father believed Daniel was involved in the financial fraud.""
I felt my stomach turn.
"Was he involved in my father's death?""
"I don't know.""
"Did you see Patrick at the hospital?""
"Yes.""
"When?""
"That morning.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What did he do?""
Vanessa lowered her voice.
"He entered your father's room carrying a folder. When he came out, your father was crying.""
I couldn't breathe.
"Why?""
"I don't know. But your father asked me to make sure nobody changed his medical records.""
Rachel motioned for me to ask another question.
"Did my father leave anything with you?""
"Yes.""
"What?""
"A sealed envelope.""
My heart began pounding.
"Where is it?""
"At my apartment.""
"Can we meet?""
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she said, "Yes. But Laura, there's something you should know first.""
"What?""
"Your father told me that if Daniel ever came looking for the envelope, I should give it to the police.""
I looked at Rachel.
"Did Daniel come looking for it?""
Vanessa went quiet.
Then she whispered:
"Yesterday.""
The line went dead.
I immediately called back.
No answer.
Rachel stood.
"We're going to her apartment.""
We arrived twenty minutes later.
Vanessa's apartment door was unlocked.
Rachel called her name.
Nothing.
I stepped inside.
The living room looked normal.
A coffee cup sat on the table.
Her handbag was on the sofa.
But the desk drawers had been emptied.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
And the bedroom closet stood open.
Rachel checked the kitchen.
I walked toward the desk.
A small photograph lay beneath a fallen folder.
It showed my father holding a newborn baby.
On the back, he had written:
For the day Laura learns the truth about her family.
I stared at the photograph.
The baby had a hospital bracelet.
The name printed on it wasn't mine.
It wasn't Daniel's.
And it wasn't Tasha's.
It belonged to someone named *Rebecca Reed*.
I turned toward Rachel.
"Who is Rebecca Reed?""
Rachel looked at the photograph.
Then she slowly lowered her eyes to the signature at the bottom.
Samuel Reed.
The trustee.
The man my father had trusted.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
*Laura, if you want to know who your real family is, stop looking for Daniel. Look at the birth records.*
May you like
A second message followed.
*Your father didn't have only one child.*
