Chapter 7: The Man Who Was Really Cam’s Father
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Cam stood in the kitchen doorway, clutching the edge of the receipt I'd just taken from him. My phone remained pressed against my ear, and my sister's words seemed to echo through the room long after she had stopped speaking.
Daniel isn't just your father's other son.
He's Cam's biological father.
I looked at Cam.
He was seventeen years old. He had my last name on school records, my address listed as his emergency contact, and a place at my dinner table every night. For three years, I had helped Monique raise him as though he were my own son.
I had attended his basketball games. I had driven him to college visits. When he failed chemistry last spring, I had spent two weekends helping him study until he passed the retest.
And now I was learning that the man who had been manipulating my family's finances might be the boy's biological father.
"Cam," I said carefully, "did you know about this?""
He shook his head.
"No.""
His voice cracked.
"Uncle Andre, I swear I didn't know.""
I looked at Tasha's name on my phone.
"Stay on the line," I told her.
Then I faced Cam.
"How long have you known Daniel Carter?""
"I don't know him.""
"Have you ever met him?""
Cam hesitated.
I noticed immediately.
"Cam.""
He looked down at the receipt.
"I met him once.""
"When?""
"Three weeks ago.""
The room seemed to shrink.
"Where?""
"At a hotel downtown. Mom told me he was an old friend who wanted to help me with college.""
I closed my eyes briefly.
"What did he tell you?""
"That he knew my biological father.""
I opened my eyes.
"Your biological father?""
Cam nodded, tears gathering in his eyes.
"I asked Mom about my dad when I was younger. She always said he wasn't ready to be involved. Later, she told me he had died.""
He swallowed.
"Then Daniel showed me a photograph of him with a little boy. He said the boy was me.""
I pulled out a chair.
"Sit down.""
Cam sat.
For the first time since I had met him, he looked like a child who desperately needed someone to tell him the world still made sense.
"What else did Daniel say?"" I asked.
"He said he wanted to make things right. He said he had money that belonged to me, but he couldn't give it to me until some legal problems were fixed.""
"What legal problems?""
"I don't know.""
"Did he mention Zoe?""
Cam's expression changed.
"He said something about her.""
My stomach tightened.
"What?""
"He said she had something that should have been mine.""
I felt anger rise through my chest, but I forced myself to remain calm.
"What exactly did he say?""
Cam wiped his eyes.
"He said our grandfather had left money for the grandchildren, and that Zoe's account was only one piece of it. He said if Mom could get the documents, he could prove that the inheritance belonged to me.""
I looked at the receipt again.
The hotel reservation. The missing money. The forged loan application. The mysterious photograph.
Suddenly, the pieces were beginning to form a picture.
But the picture was ugly.
"Cam," I said, "did you ask your mother why she was giving you Zoe's car?""
He nodded.
"She told me you had agreed to it.""
"And you believed her?""
"I wanted to believe her.""
He looked at his hands.
"Everybody kept saying that you loved Zoe more than me. Mom said the car was proof that I wasn't really part of this family.""
I stared at him.
"Who said that?""
"Mom. And Daniel.""
My jaw tightened.
Cam continued.
"Daniel told me that if I wanted to be treated like a real son, I had to stop letting people make decisions for me. He said the Porsche was just the beginning.""
I leaned back slowly.
There it was.
The reason Monique had handed him the keys so confidently. The reason she had acted as though Zoe's car was something she could redistribute.
She hadn't merely wanted Cam to have a Porsche.
Someone had convinced her that giving him Zoe's possessions was a way to establish his claim over something much larger.
I looked toward the stairs.
"Where is your mother?""
"I don't know.""
"Did she leave?""
Cam shook his head.
"She went upstairs after you called the lawyer.""
I nodded once, then returned my attention to the phone.
"Tasha, are you still there?""
"Yes.""
"Tell me what you know about Daniel and Cam.""
She sighed.
"Dad told me Daniel had a son, but he never said the boy's name. I didn't know it was Cam.""
"Did Dad know Monique?""
"Yes. She worked for a financial services company years ago. She met Daniel through a client referral.""
I stared at the wall.
"So my father knew Daniel had a child?""
"Yes.""
"And he knew Daniel was trying to claim the inheritance?""
"Yes.""
"Then why did he leave the trust in Marcus Bell's hands?""
"Because Marcus was supposed to protect it until the family could agree on the terms.""
I let out a humorless laugh.
"That worked beautifully.""
Tasha didn't respond.
Then she said, "Andre, there's something else. Dad told me that if Daniel ever tried to contact you, I should give you the letter he left for him.""
"Where is it?""
"In my safe at home.""
"Bring it tonight.""
"I will.""
I ended the call and looked at Cam.
"You're going to tell me everything about that meeting. Every word you remember.""
He nodded.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
"I recorded part of it.""
I stared at him.
"You what?""
"I didn't mean to. I was trying to send a voice message to my friend, but I hit record instead. I didn't realize until later.""
He unlocked the phone and opened an audio file.
The recording began with the muffled sound of a restaurant, dishes clinking, and someone pulling out a chair.
Then a man's voice came through.
Daniel Carter.
"Your mother has spent years protecting you, Cam. You need to understand that.""
Cam's recorded voice answered, "From what?""
"From people who don't want you to have what's yours.""
"What is mine?""
"Your grandfather's money. Your future. The things that were supposed to be passed down to you.""
A pause.
Then Daniel continued.
"Your mother is going to get the documents. Once she does, we'll be able to prove the trust was mishandled.""
Cam asked, "What about Zoe?""
Daniel's answer made my hands curl into fists.
"Zoe has had enough. She has a father who pays for everything and a mother whose money has been sitting in accounts for years. You have been denied what should have been yours.""
"She's my sister.""
"Half-sister," Daniel corrected.
"And she isn't the one who has been waiting for seventeen years.""
The recording crackled.
Then Daniel spoke again.
"When the documents are transferred, you'll finally have the resources to build your life. But your mother must act before Monday.""
Cam's recorded voice grew quieter.
"What happens if she doesn't?""
Daniel answered without hesitation.
"Then she loses everything.""
The recording ended.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Cam stared at the phone.
"I didn't know he was trying to steal anything.""
I looked at him.
"I believe you.""
His eyes lifted to mine.
"You do?""
"Yes. But you need to understand something. Wanting to belong doesn't give anyone the right to hurt your sister.""
He nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.
"I know.""
I sat beside him.
"And from now on, if someone tells you that you have to prove your worth by taking something from someone else, you walk away. You understand?""
He nodded again.
Then he whispered, "I'm sorry about the car.""
I looked toward the window.
The red Porsche sat in the driveway, its bow bright against the hood.
"That apology needs to go to Zoe.""
"I know.""
He stood and walked toward the living room.
I remained in the kitchen, staring at the audio file.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
*Mr. Mitchell, this is Daniel Carter. I understand you've been asking questions about my son. We need to meet immediately.*
A second message followed.
*Bring the original will. If you want to know what really happened to Danielle, come alone.*
My blood ran cold.
I typed a response.
*I won't meet you alone.*
His reply arrived almost instantly.
*Then you'll never know why your wife was at the hospital the night Danielle died.*
I stared at the screen.
The hospital.
I remembered that night vividly. Danielle had been admitted after a sudden complication. I had been beside her when the doctors told me they were doing everything they could.
Monique had arrived later, saying she'd come because she wanted to support me.
I had thanked her.
I had never questioned why she was there.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether I had ever understood that night at all.
A final message appeared.
*Ask Monique who signed the visitor log at 11:47 p.m. Ask her what she carried out of Danielle's room.*
I looked up toward the staircase.
Somewhere upstairs, a door closed.
Then I heard Monique scream.
"Andre!""
I ran.
She stood in our bedroom beside the open desk drawer, holding an empty envelope.
The documents were gone.
She looked at me with terror in her eyes.
"Someone took the original will.""
I stared at the empty drawer.
"Who?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
Then she whispered something that made my blood turn to ice.
"But whoever took it knows where the hospital kept Danielle's final medical records.""
May you like
And suddenly, the question wasn't simply whether my wife had stolen from my daughter.
It was whether someone had spent five years making sure I never discovered what happened to the woman I had loved first.
