Chapter 10: The File With My Name
The screen glowed in the darkness.
THE TRUTH ABOUT HANNAH PIERCE.
I stared at the words.
For several seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
My father had spent his final months creating a hidden office.
A private investigation.
A wall full of names.
And now my name was the final file.
“No,” I whispered.
Caleb stepped closer.
“Hannah.””
I shook my head.
“My father wouldn’t do this.””
But even as I said it, doubt appeared.
Because the worst part wasn’t seeing my name.
The worst part was knowing my father had prepared for something.
Something he never told me.
The computer screen flashed.
A password prompt appeared.
I looked at Caleb.
“Do you know it?””
He shook his head.
“No.””
I tried Dad’s birthday.
Wrong.
My birthday.
Wrong.
The name of our old family dog.
Wrong.
Then I remembered something.
A conversation from the hospital.
Dad had held my hand while looking out the window.
He had said:
“Sometimes the thing we spend our lives protecting is the thing we misunderstand the most.””
At the time, I thought he was talking about family.
Maybe he was.
I typed:
TRUST.
The screen unlocked.
The file opened.
The first page contained a photograph.
Me.
At age seven.
Standing beside my father.
I felt my chest tighten.
The second page was a document.
A legal document.
My eyes moved down the page.
And I froze.
“This is impossible.””
Caleb looked over.
“What?””
I pointed.
“My father created a trust for me before I was even born.””
Caleb frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“No.””
I kept reading.
Because it made no sense.
The trust wasn’t created when I inherited money.
It wasn’t created when Dad became sick.
It was created before I entered the world.
Then another document appeared.
A birth certificate.
My hands went cold.
Caleb noticed.
“Hannah?””
I couldn’t answer.
Because the name on the document was mine.
But the information was different.
My father wasn’t listed as my biological father.
I stared at it.
“No.””
Caleb looked at me.
“Maybe it’s fake.””
I wanted that to be true.
I wanted anything to be true except this.
Then a video file opened automatically.
My father appeared on the screen.
Older.
Tired.
But alive.
My knees almost gave out.
“Hannah,” he said.
I covered my mouth.
It was the first time I had heard his voice since the hospital.
“If you are watching this, then you have reached the room I created for you.””
He looked directly into the camera.
“I know you are confused.””
A pause.
“I know you are hurt.””
His eyes lowered.
“But there is something I never told you because I was afraid telling you would change the way you saw yourself.””
Tears filled my eyes.
“Your mother and I…”
He stopped.
Then corrected himself.
“Your birth mother and I.””
I looked at Caleb.
Neither of us moved.
“She asked me to protect you.””
The video continued.
“When you were born, there were people who wanted access to something your biological family had.””
Something.
Not someone.
Something.
My father leaned closer.
“You were never just my daughter.””
My heart broke.
“I know that sounds cruel.””
His voice shook.
“But you were also the person I chose to protect.””
The video paused.
Then another file opened.
A photograph appeared.
A woman.
A woman I had never seen before.
Caleb whispered:
“Who is that?””
I looked at the screen.
I had no idea.
Then the next line appeared.
BIOLOGICAL MOTHER: ELIZABETH PIERCE.
I stopped breathing.
Pierce.
The same last name.
My father continued in the video.
“Your biological mother was my sister.””
The room spun.
I grabbed the desk.
“What?””
Caleb stared.
“Your aunt?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
But the documents were clear.
My father wasn’t my biological father.
He was my uncle.
The man I called Dad had chosen to raise me.
The man who had loved me.
The man who had protected me.
The video continued.
“Elizabeth died protecting you.””
I wiped my tears.
“From who?””
The screen changed.
One final document appeared.
A name.
A company.
A family.
And I recognized it immediately.
Because my father had warned me about them years ago.
The woman’s voice from the speaker returned.
“You finally understand.””
The office speakers crackled.
I looked around.
“You.””
A soft laugh.
“Yes.””
“Who are you?””
A pause.
Then:
“The person who has been waiting for you to discover who you really are.””
The lights went out.
When they came back on, the computer screen displayed one final message.
DON’T TRUST CALEB.
I turned slowly.
May you like
Caleb was standing behind me.
And he looked just as shocked.
