Chapter 8: The Daughter Who Was Never Told
I watched the video again.
And again.
And again.
Every single time, I expected something to change.
A different face.
A different voice.
A mistake.
Anything.
But the truth remained exactly the same.
My mother.
My mother, who had been gone for six years.
My mother, whose memory I had protected like something sacred.
Standing beside my father in a dark parking lot.
Talking about a secret.
Talking about me.
My hands shook as I pushed the phone away.
“No.””
Jordan didn’t say anything.
He just watched me.
Maybe because he knew there were no words that could make this easier.
Maybe because he had spent eight years carrying this moment.
“What am I looking at?””
My voice sounded empty.
Jordan swallowed.
“The truth.””
“No.””
I looked at him.
“No, this is not the truth.””
“Nia—”
“My mother is dead.””
“I know.””
“She couldn’t have been there.””
“I know.””
“She couldn’t have known anything about Elijah.””
“I know.””
I stood up so quickly the chair moved backward.
People in the coffee shop looked over.
I didn’t care.
“You’re showing me a video of my dead mother and expecting me to believe she was involved in something terrible?””
Jordan stood too.
“I’m not asking you to believe anything.””
“Then why show me?””
“Because you deserve to know.””
I laughed.
A broken, angry sound.
“Do I?””
“Yes.””
“Funny.””
I pointed at him.
“Everyone keeps saying that.””
He froze.
“My father said he was protecting me.””
“Kara said she was warning me.””
“You said you loved me.””
His face fell.
“And every single one of you decided the truth was something I wasn’t allowed to have.””
The words hung between us.
Because they were true.
Jordan looked down.
“I’m sorry.””
I shook my head.
“Stop apologizing.””
“What?””
“Stop saying sorry when what I need is an explanation.””
He nodded slowly.
“Okay.””
For the first time since I arrived, he looked completely exhausted.
Not defensive.
Not angry.
Just tired.
“I don’t know everything.””
That surprised me.
“You don’t?””
“No.””
“Then why are you acting like my father did something?””
“Because of what I saw.””
“You saw a video.””
“Yes.””
“A video of my parents.””
“Yes.””
“Talking.””
“Yes.””
“About a secret.””
“Yes.””
I stared at him.
“That doesn’t prove they hurt Elijah.””
Jordan looked away.
“No.””
The answer was immediate.
And that stopped me.
“You admit that?””
“Yes.””
“Then what are you saying?””
He took a breath.
“I’m saying your father knows something.””
I sat back down.
Slowly.
Because my legs suddenly felt weak.
“What happened after this video?””
Jordan sat across from me again.
“I found it two years after Elijah disappeared.””
“How?””
“Someone mailed it to me.””
“Who?””
“I don’t know.””
“You don’t know?””
“No.””
“Another anonymous message?””
“Yes.””
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Another person hiding.
Another secret.
Another piece of my life arriving from a stranger.
“What did you do?””
“I confronted your father.””
“What did he say?””
Jordan’s expression changed.
“He said my son was alive.””
I froze.
“What?””
“He told me Elijah wasn’t missing.””
The room became silent.
“What does that mean?””
“I don’t know.””
“Jordan.””
“I swear.””
His voice became desperate.
“I don’t know.””
I studied him.
“Then why did you think my father was involved?””
“Because after that conversation, he begged me to stay away from you.””
“Why?””
“Because he said if you ever found out what happened, you would hate him.””
I looked down.
The words felt familiar.
Because I had read them.
My father’s handwriting.
*If Nia ever finds out the truth, she will never forgive me.*
“What else?””
Jordan hesitated.
“There’s more.””
My heart sank.
“Of course there is.””
He reached into his pocket.
This time, he didn’t pull out his phone.
He pulled out an envelope.
Old.
Folded.
Worn.
“What is that?””
“The last thing I got from your father.””
I didn’t touch it.
“Why do you have it?””
“Because he gave it to me.””
“When?””
“The day before I met you.””
My chest tightened.
“The day before?””
“Yes.””
“What was inside?””
Jordan looked at the envelope.
“I never opened it.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
“Because your father told me something.””
“What?””
“He said if I opened it, everything would change.””
“And you believed him?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Jordan looked at me.
“Because I was afraid.””
I almost smiled.
“You and everyone else.””
He accepted that.
“I was.””
I stared at the envelope.
“Why show me now?””
“Because I think whatever is inside is the reason everyone has been lying.””
I reached for it.
My fingers touched the paper.
And immediately, something felt wrong.
Not because of the envelope.
Because of the handwriting.
The name written across the front.
Not Jordan.
Not Marcus.
Mine.
*For Nia.*
I stopped breathing.
“My father wrote this?””
Jordan nodded.
“Yes.””
I opened it carefully.
Inside was one page.
Only one.
The paper was yellowed.
The ink slightly faded.
I read the first line.
And my heart broke.
*My daughter, if you are reading this, then I failed to protect you.*
I had to stop.
Because seeing those words from my father hurt more than any accusation.
I kept reading.
*I know you will be angry. You have every right to be. But there is one thing I need you to understand. Everything I did was because I loved you.*
My vision blurred.
I continued.
*The night Elijah disappeared was not the first night I lost something. It was the night I realized someone was willing to destroy innocent people to hide the truth.*
I looked at Jordan.
He was watching me.
I kept reading.
*Jordan did not tell you the truth because he was afraid you would hate him. I did not tell you because I was afraid you would hate me.*
My heart pounded.
Then:
*But the person you should be looking for is not Jordan.*
I froze.
The next sentence made my blood run cold.
*It is the person who made sure your mother took the blame.*
I looked up.
“My mother?””
Jordan’s face changed.
“What?””
I turned the page.
There was something written on the back.
A name.
One name.
A name I had never expected.
A name that made no sense.
Because it belonged to someone who had been beside me my entire life.
Someone who had comforted me when my mother died.
Someone who had helped raise me.
Someone my father trusted.
Someone Jordan had never mentioned.
I whispered:
“This can’t be real.””
Jordan leaned forward.
“What?””
I showed him.
His face went pale.
Because he recognized the name.
And when he spoke, his voice barely worked.
“Nia…”
“What?””
“That person…”
He looked at me.
“That person was the reason Elijah was taken.””
My fingers tightened around the paper.
“Who?””
Jordan stared at the name.
Then whispered:
“Your mother’s sister.””
I felt the world tilt.
“My aunt?””
He nodded.
“The woman who has been in your family’s life for twenty years.””
I couldn’t speak.
Because suddenly, another memory appeared.
A small detail I had ignored.
A sentence my aunt had said after my mother’s funeral.
A sentence I thought was grief.
A sentence I never questioned.
*Some secrets should stay buried.*
My phone buzzed.
A message.
From my aunt.
I stared at the screen.
Because somehow…
She knew.
The message contained only one sentence.
*I know you found the letter.*
My heart stopped.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
*Come home, Nia. We need to talk about your mother.*