Chapter 3: The House Full of Secrets
I had spent nineteen days wondering why Daniel left.
I thought I was prepared for any answer.
An affair.
A midlife crisis.
Another woman.
A secret debt.
Anything would have been easier than the possibility that he had been carrying a question about our son.
Because a question was worse than an answer.
A question meant everything I believed could be false.
I stood in Aunt Diane’s entryway, my hand still wrapped around the door handle.
“Who is waiting for me there?””
She didn’t answer.
That scared me more than if she had screamed.
“Aunt Diane.””
She looked at me.
“Please don’t go tonight.””
The way she said it wasn’t a demand.
It was fear.
And I had never heard fear in her voice before.
Not when my mother died.
Not when I gave birth to Noah after a difficult delivery.
Not when Daniel and I almost lost our apartment two years ago.
Aunt Diane was the person who stood in storms and told everyone else to move behind her.
But now she was asking me to stay.
“Why?”” I whispered.
She looked toward the living room.
At my children.
At the life I had built.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Because some things are easier to survive when you know the truth before you walk into them.””
My heart pounded.
“What does that mean?””
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Aunt Diane had always been honest with me.
That was what made her silence terrifying.
“You’re hiding something.””
“No.””
“You are.””
She looked away.
“Jasmine, there are things about your mother that you don’t know.””
The words froze me.
“My mother?””
I hadn’t heard anyone say those words in that tone since I was sixteen.
My mother had been gone for years.
She existed in old photographs, faded memories, and the stories Aunt Diane occasionally told when she thought I needed comfort.
But never like this.
“What does my mother have to do with Daniel?””
Aunt Diane sat down slowly.
“I don’t know.””
“That’s not true.””
“It is.””
She looked exhausted.
“I know Daniel went to that house. I know he asked about Noah. I know he was looking for something.””
“Something?””
She nodded.
“Something your mother left behind.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“I don’t know.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because it’s the truth.””
Her voice cracked slightly.
“I know less than you think I do.””
I wanted to believe her.
I wanted to believe the woman who raised me.
But every instinct I had was screaming that there was a piece missing.
A piece everyone knew except me.
Behind us, the floor creaked.
We both turned.
Kayla stood in the hallway.
My heart sank.
“How long were you there?””
She looked down.
“Long enough.””
“Kayla—”
“Is Dad in trouble?””
“No.””
The answer came too quickly.
Her eyes lifted.
“You’re lying again.””
That hurt.
Not because she was wrong.
Because she sounded exactly like me.
I walked toward her.
“Sweetheart, grown-up things are complicated.””
“Is Dad mad at you?””
“No.””
“Then why did Aunt Diane say his name like she hates him?””
I looked at Aunt Diane.
She looked away.
Children didn’t miss anything.
Especially children who had watched their family slowly break apart.
I knelt down.
“Kayla, listen to me. Your dad and I love you and Micah and Noah more than anything.””
“But are you getting divorced?””
The question hit the air like a dropped glass.
I swallowed.
“I don’t know.””
Her eyes filled.
But she didn’t cry.
Kayla had become quiet since Daniel left.
Too quiet.
She had stopped asking when he was coming home.
Stopped leaving drawings for him on the kitchen table.
Stopped sleeping with the stuffed animal he gave her.
I thought she was adjusting.
Maybe she had just been preparing for the worst.
I pulled her into my arms.
“I’m sorry.””
She whispered into my shoulder.
“I just want things to go back.””
I closed my eyes.
“So do I.””
After getting the kids settled, I stood outside Noah’s room and watched him sleep.
He looked exactly the same as he did every night.
Peaceful.
Unaware.
His tiny hand opened and closed like he was holding onto a dream.
My son.
My baby.
The thought that anyone could question that made anger rise inside me.
Especially Daniel.
I had been there through every appointment.
Every kick.
Every sleepless night.
Every fever.
Every bottle.
Every moment.
Where was Daniel?
Not here.
And now he wanted proof?
I walked back into the kitchen.
Aunt Diane was sitting at the table with a photograph in her hands.
She quickly turned it face down when she saw me.
I stopped.
“What was that?””
“Nothing.””
I almost laughed.
“Everyone keeps saying that tonight.””
She sighed.
“Jasmine.””
“No. I’m done with people protecting me by keeping me in the dark.””
She looked at me.
“You think that’s what I’m doing?””
“I think you knew Daniel was coming here.””
“I did.””
“I think you knew about the DNA test.””
“I did.””
“And I think there’s something else.””
Her eyes moved away.
That was enough.
“What?””
She stayed silent.
“What else?””
Finally, she reached into the drawer beside her and pulled out an old envelope.
My name was written on the front.
Not printed.
Written.
In handwriting I knew immediately.
My mother’s.
I stopped breathing.
“No.””
Aunt Diane slid it across the table.
“I found it three months ago.””
My fingers hovered over the envelope.
“Three months?””
“I wasn’t sure if I should give it to you.””
“Why?””
“Because I didn’t know what it meant.””
I looked at her.
“And now?””
“Now Daniel is involved.””
The room felt colder.
I picked up the envelope.
The paper was old.
The edges were worn.
My mother’s handwriting looked exactly like I remembered.
Small.
Neat.
Careful.
There were only four words on the front.
*For Jasmine. When ready.*
My hands started shaking.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
Aunt Diane’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because the last time I opened something your mother left behind, it changed everything.””
I stared at her.
“What was it?””
She looked at the envelope.
“A letter.””
“What did it say?””
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
“That your mother had a secret.””
The silence that followed felt endless.
I turned the envelope over.
There was no seal.
No lock.
Nothing stopping me.
Except fear.
“What secret?””
Aunt Diane looked at me.
“The kind that makes people disappear.””
A chill moved through me.
Before I could open it, my phone rang.
Not buzzed.
Rang.
A number I didn’t recognize.
Aunt Diane looked at the screen.
“Don’t answer.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
She stood quickly.
Because for the first time all night, she looked certain.
“Because I know who that is.””
The phone continued ringing.
My hand tightened around it.
“Who?””
Aunt Diane stared at the number.
Then she whispered:
“Your mother’s phone number.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“That’s impossible.””
“It was disconnected twenty years ago.””
The phone kept ringing.
Aunt Diane stepped closer.
“Jasmine, don’t pick up.””
But I already had.
Because no matter how impossible something was…
A part of me had been waiting my entire life to hear my mother’s voice again.
“Hello?””
At first, there was only silence.
Then static.
Then a woman breathed softly on the other end.
My heart stopped.
Because the voice that came next was older.
Changed.
But unmistakable.
“Jasmine?””
My knees nearly gave out.
The woman whispered:
“I’m sorry it took me this long.””
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t move.
Aunt Diane covered her mouth.
May you like
And then the woman on the phone said the one thing that made the entire world disappear beneath my feet.
“Your aunt has been lying to you about what happened the night I died.””