Chapter 3
The phone kept ringing on the floor.
Nobody moved.
Rachel stared at it as if it were a bomb.
Daniel whispered, “Your mother is dead.”
“I buried her,” Rachel said.
I bent down and picked up the phone.
“Don’t answer it,” she said.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman spoke.
“James.”
Every hair on my arms stood up.
I knew that voice.
Not well.
But enough.
Margaret Collins.
Rachel’s mother.
The woman whose funeral I had attended four years earlier.
The woman whose ashes Rachel had supposedly scattered in the mountains.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Rachel grabbed for the phone.
I turned away.
“Where are you?”
Margaret ignored the question.
“Is Daniel there?”
Daniel heard his name and went still.
“Yes.”
“Then Rachel failed again.”
Rachel whispered, “Hang up.”
I put the phone on speaker.
Margaret continued.
“James, take Ethan and leave Denver tonight.”
My anger disappeared beneath something heavier.
“Why?”
“Because Rachel has put all of you in danger.”
Rachel snatched the phone from my hand.
“You don’t get to do this!”
Her mother’s voice stayed calm.
“I warned you.”
“You disappeared for four years!”
“I disappeared because you asked me to.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“You said she died of a stroke.”
“She did.”
Margaret laughed softly through the speaker.
“No, sweetheart. That was your story.”
Rachel ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then I said, “Start talking.”
Rachel looked toward the restaurant entrance.
“We have to get Ethan first.”
“Not until you tell me whether my son is in danger.”
“Our son.”
“Don’t.”
Her face broke.
That one word hurt her.
Good.
I wanted it to.
Then I hated myself for wanting that.
Rachel lowered her voice.
“The fifty thousand dollars went to my mother.”
“Why?”
“Because she said she had proof.”
“Proof of what?”
Rachel glanced at Daniel.
He looked as confused as I was.
“Proof that the paternity test is not the biggest secret.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“What secret?”
Rachel shut her eyes.
“The night Ethan was born.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“What about it?”
“You know how I told you he came early?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
She looked straight at me.
“He wasn’t born three days before I called you.”
I stared.
“The photograph—”
“Was staged.”
Daniel’s face drained of color.
“What?”
Rachel kept speaking.
“He was born almost two weeks earlier.”
The restaurant seemed very far away.
“You hid my son’s birth for two weeks?”
Rachel’s tears returned.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“There is always a choice.”
“You weren’t there.”
“Because you told me you were visiting your sister in Arizona!”
“I know.”
“You lied about leaving the state?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her mouth trembled.
“Because I didn’t know which baby I was bringing home.”
Silence.
Daniel looked at me.
I looked at him.
Neither of us understood.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Rachel pressed both hands against the table.
“When Ethan was born, there was another baby in the maternity ward.”
My stomach turned.
“No.”
“James—”
“No.”
“A boy.”
“No.”
“His mother was seventeen.”
I backed away.
Daniel whispered, “Rachel.”
“She didn’t want him. Her family wanted everything kept quiet.”
I felt sick.
“What did you do?”
Rachel shook her head rapidly.
“I didn’t switch babies.”
The fact that she had to say those words nearly destroyed me.
“I didn’t. I swear.”
“Then what happened?”
“My mother was working at the hospital.”
I remembered.
Margaret had been a nurse for almost thirty years.
“She knew I wasn’t sure who Ethan’s biological father was. She hated Daniel. She hated that I had cheated on you.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Rachel continued.
“She said I had ruined everything.”
“You did.”
“I know.”
Her voice cracked.
“But then Ethan had complications after birth. Breathing problems. They ran tests.”
“What tests?”
“Blood type first.”
I already knew mine.
O positive.
Rachel was A positive.
Ethan was listed as O positive on his pediatric records.
She looked at Daniel.
“Daniel is AB positive.”
His brow furrowed.
“So?”
“So an AB father can’t have an O child.”
Daniel stared at her.
I felt the room stop.
The paternity report on the table suddenly looked like a joke.
“You’re saying that test is fake?”
Rachel shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“You just said—”
“I don’t know because my mother said the hospital records were changed.”
Daniel grabbed the test report.
“This is from a certified lab.”
“I know.”
“I gave them my sample myself.”
“Did Ethan?”
Daniel went quiet.
I looked between them.
“Where did Ethan’s sample come from?”
Rachel said nothing.
Daniel’s expression changed.
“You mailed it to me.”
My knees almost gave out.
“You sent Daniel a DNA sample?”
“I used Ethan’s toothbrush.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No. You said it was Ethan’s.”
“It was supposed to be.”
“Supposed to be?”
Rachel grabbed the edge of the table.
“My mother got into the house.”
I laughed because the alternative was screaming.
“Your dead mother broke into our house and switched toothbrushes?”
“She has a key.”
“You told me we changed the locks after she died.”
“I gave her one.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Of course.
Another lie.
Every answer opened two more doors.
I looked at the clock above the bar.
8:17 p.m.
Ethan was with my mother, Patricia, twenty minutes away.
I took out my phone.
“I’m calling Mom.”
Rachel grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
I shoved her hand away.
“Do not stop me from checking on my son.”
I called.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
My heart started racing.
“She always answers.”
Rachel pulled out her own phone.
“Call the house.”
I did.
No answer.
Daniel was already standing.
“I’ll drive.”
“I have a car.”
“You’ve been drinking?”
“I had half a beer four hours ago.”
“Then go.”
Rachel started following us.
I turned.
“You’re not coming.”
“James.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s my son.”
“Then you should have acted like it.”
She slapped me.
Hard.
The restaurant went silent again.
I barely felt it.
Rachel immediately looked horrified.
“I’m sorry.”
I leaned close.
“If anything happens to Ethan because of your secrets, there is nothing left to save.”
I walked out.
Daniel followed.
Rachel came anyway.
No one tried to stop her.
We drove separately.
I called my mother the entire way.
Nothing.
I called the neighbor next door.
Mrs. Alvarez answered.
“James?”
“Have you seen Mom tonight?”
“No. Why?”
“Is her car there?”
A pause.
“I can look.”
I heard a door opening.
Then wind.
Then her voice changed.
“James, her garage is open.”
My blood turned cold.
“Is the car there?”
“Yes.”
“Can you knock on the door?”
Rachel was following so close behind me that her headlights filled my mirrors.
Daniel’s car was behind hers.
Mrs. Alvarez knocked.
No answer.
Then she tried the door.
“It’s unlocked.”
“Go inside.”
“I don’t know—”
“Please.”
I heard her step inside.
“Patricia?”
Nothing.
Then a gasp.
“Oh my God.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“What?”
“There’s glass everywhere.”
“What do you mean?”
“The coffee table. It’s broken.”
“Where’s my mother?”
“I don’t see her.”
“What about Ethan?”
“I don’t see him either.”
My whole body went numb.
“Check upstairs.”
I heard hurried footsteps.
Doors opening.
“Ethan?”
Then silence.
“Mrs. Alvarez?”
Her breathing was fast.
“His backpack is here.”
I pushed the accelerator harder.
“What else?”
“There’s something on the bed.”
“What?”
“A note.”
“Read it.”
“I don’t think—”
“READ IT.”
She swallowed.
Then she read four words.
“Ask Rachel about Noah.”
I looked in the rearview mirror.
Rachel was still behind me.
I had never heard that name.
But something strange happened.
At the next traffic light, Rachel’s car suddenly turned right.
Away from my mother’s house.
“Rachel!”
I called her.
She declined.
I called again.
Declined.
Daniel pulled up beside me and shouted through his open window.
“Where is she going?”
“I don’t know.”
Then a text appeared from Rachel.
I read it at the red light.
DON’T FOLLOW ME.
I typed back.
WHERE IS ETHAN?
The answer came immediately.
I KNOW WHO TOOK HIM.
My hands shook as I typed.
WHO?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
May you like
Then one sentence arrived.
The boy who was supposed to be your son.
