Chapter 8: The Truth About Isaiah's Father
Malcolm read the message three times.
Each time, his expression grew more troubled.
"The truth about Isaiah's father," he repeated.
"What is that supposed to mean?""
I didn't answer.
I was thinking about Renee's final weeks, the late-night conversations I'd overheard outside her hospital room, and the way she had held Isaiah whenever she thought no one was watching.
She had loved that boy with a fierce, almost desperate tenderness.
I had never questioned why.
Now I wondered whether she had been protecting him from something we had never understood.
Thomas Bennett examined the photograph on my phone.
"Where did this come from?""
"I don't know. The number isn't saved in my contacts.""
"Has the sender identified themselves?""
"No.""
He studied the handwriting.
"This appears consistent with Renee's other documents, but we shouldn't assume the page is complete or authentic without examining the original.""
Malcolm paced toward the window.
"Why would Renee write something like this?""
"Because she wanted you to understand something," I said.
He turned.
"What?""
"That whatever happened before Isaiah was born, she believed it was important enough to protect him financially.""
Malcolm shook his head.
"I was there when he was born. I held him first. I signed the birth certificate. I raised him.""
His voice cracked.
"He's my son.""
"Nobody has said otherwise," Thomas replied.
"But that message—"
"It raises a question. It doesn't answer it.""
Malcolm sank into a chair.
I sat beside him.
"Listen to me. Nothing in that photograph changes the fact that you've been Isaiah's father in every way that matters.""
He stared at his hands.
"What if Renee knew something I didn't?""
"Then we need to find out what she knew.""
Thomas gathered the documents into his briefcase.
"The police have requested that Malcolm come to the motel to identify Isaiah and provide a statement. We can discuss the declaration with them and make sure the child is interviewed appropriately.""
Malcolm stood immediately.
"I'm coming.""
I took my purse.
"So am I.""
The drive seemed endless.
Malcolm sat in the passenger seat, reading Renee's declaration again and again. Every few minutes, he would stop at a sentence and stare out the window.
Finally, he spoke.
"Mom, there's something I never told you about the night Isaiah was born.""
I kept my eyes on the road.
"Tell me.""
"Renee was in labor for almost eighteen hours. I was terrified. At one point, the doctors asked me to step outside while they treated her.""
He swallowed.
"When I came back, she was holding Isaiah. She looked at me and asked me to promise that I would love him no matter what happened.""
I glanced at him.
"That's a mother's fear. She'd just given birth.""
"That's what I thought. But she kept asking. She said she needed to know that nothing could make me stop being his father.""
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
"What did you say?""
"I told her nothing could.""
He stared at the passing fields.
"She cried and said, 'Then he'll be safe.'' I never understood why she said it like that.""
I felt a chill move through me.
"Did she ever explain?""
"No. Whenever I asked, she'd say it was something we would talk about later.""
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
The motel sat beside a highway lined with gas stations and fast-food restaurants. Two police vehicles were parked outside a room near the back.
An officer approached us as we stepped out of the car.
"Mr. Carter?""
"Yes.""
"I'm Officer Daniels. Your son is inside. He's physically safe, but we need to speak with you about the circumstances surrounding the trip.""
"Where is Isaiah?""
"He's in the room with another officer. We wanted to make sure he wasn't left alone while we spoke with Ms. Carter.""
Malcolm's face tightened.
"Can I see him?""
"Yes. But please remain calm. He's frightened, and we don't want him feeling responsible for the adults' actions.""
Malcolm nodded.
The officer led us inside.
Tasha sat on the edge of a motel bed, her purse beside her. Her makeup had run down her cheeks, and her hands were trembling.
Isaiah sat in an armchair near the window.
When he saw Malcolm, he sprang to his feet.
"Dad!""
Malcolm crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees.
Isaiah threw his arms around his neck.
"I'm sorry," the boy sobbed.
"I didn't want to go. Mom said we had to leave.""
Malcolm held him tightly.
"You have nothing to apologize for, buddy. Nothing.""
"Are you mad at me?""
Malcolm pulled back and looked directly into his son's eyes.
"Never. Do you hear me? I'm not mad at you.""
Isaiah began crying harder.
"I want to go home.""
"We're going home.""
Malcolm pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"And we're going to get you that new backpack.""
Isaiah nodded against his shoulder.
I had to turn away for a moment.
Then Officer Daniels gently guided Isaiah into the adjoining room with another officer so he could have a quiet conversation with his father separately from Tasha.
Malcolm rose slowly.
He looked at his wife.
"Why did you bring him here?""
Tasha stared at the carpet.
"I needed the letter.""
"You took my son to force my mother to give you a document?""
"I was trying to protect myself.""
"From what?""
She lifted her face.
"From everything Renee wrote about me.""
Malcolm's expression hardened.
"Did you take money from Isaiah's account?""
Tasha covered her mouth.
"Answer me.""
"Yes.""
The word was barely audible.
I felt my stomach drop.
Malcolm gripped the back of a chair.
"How much?""
"Not all of it.""
"How much, Tasha?""
"Twenty-seven thousand, approximately.""
He closed his eyes.
"Why?""
She began crying again.
"Because I was drowning, Malcolm. I had bills. I had debts. I was trying to keep the household running.""
"You spent his savings on yourself?""
"I thought I could replace it.""
"When?""
"I don't know.""
He looked at her with an expression I had never seen before.
"Did you understand that it was his money?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"Did you understand that he needed it for his future?""
"Yes.""
"Then why did you leave him without school supplies?""
Tasha looked toward the window.
"I was angry.""
"At a nine-year-old boy?""
"At you! At Renee! At everyone who expected me to sacrifice everything while Isaiah got all the sympathy.""
Malcolm took a step back.
"You punished my son because you were angry with me.""
"I didn't mean to hurt him.""
"But you did.""
She pressed her hands against her face.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Malcolm asked the question that had been haunting him since we left home.
"What happened before Isaiah was born?""
Tasha lowered her hands.
Her face changed.
"Why are you asking me that?""
"Because someone sent us a photograph of Renee's handwriting. It says she wanted me to know the truth about Isaiah's father.""
Tasha went completely still.
Then she whispered, "You found that page?""
"You know what it means?""
She shook her head, but the movement was too quick.
"Tasha.""
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
Malcolm stepped closer.
"Did Renee tell you something about Isaiah's paternity?""
Tasha's eyes filled with tears.
"She told me she was afraid.""
"Afraid of what?""
"That you'd leave.""
Malcolm stared at her.
"Leave whom?""
"Her. Isaiah. Everyone.""
He looked as though he'd been struck.
"Why?""
Tasha looked down at her hands.
"Because she thought you'd discover something about the past.""
"What thing?""
"I don't know.""
"You keep saying that!""
He raised his voice, then stopped himself.
He took a breath and lowered it.
"Tasha, I need the truth. Whatever happened, we can deal with it. But I cannot keep raising my son in a house where everyone is hiding something.""
She looked at him for a long time.
Then she said, "Renee told me that Isaiah might not be yours.""
The room fell silent.
I felt my hand fly to my mouth.
Malcolm didn't move.
He stared at his wife as if he hadn't understood the words.
Finally, he whispered, "What did you say?""
Tasha's tears spilled over.
"She told me there was a possibility. She said she'd made a mistake before you were married, and she'd never been certain about the timing.""
Malcolm shook his head.
"No.""
"She said she had never had a test done.""
"No.""
"She said she was afraid to tell you because she knew how much you wanted a family.""
Malcolm backed away until he hit the wall.
I wanted to reach for him, but he lifted one hand, asking me to wait.
"Why didn't you tell me?"" he asked.
Tasha looked at him desperately.
"Because I thought the truth would destroy you.""
"You don't get to decide what truth I can survive.""
"I was trying to protect you.""
"By stealing from my son? By taking him away? By hiding his mother's letter?""
She began sobbing.
"I didn't know what else to do.""
Malcolm stared at her.
Then he asked, "Did Renee know who Isaiah's biological father might be?""
Tasha hesitated.
"I think so.""
"Who?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
He took out his phone and showed her the photograph.
"Then explain this.""
Tasha stared at the handwriting.
Her face went white.
"Where did you get that?""
"Someone sent it to my mother.""
She looked toward the door.
Then back at Malcolm.
"There's something I need to tell you about Derek.""
I felt my heart begin to pound.
"What about him?"" I asked.
Tasha ignored me.
"Renee told me that Derek knew the truth about Isaiah's father. She said he'd promised to keep it secret.""
Malcolm's voice was almost inaudible.
"Are you saying Derek might be Isaiah's father?""
Tasha covered her face.
"I don't know.""
But this time, her voice carried something different.
Not fear of being caught.
Fear of a truth she had spent two years trying to bury.
Before Malcolm could ask another question, Officer Daniels returned to the room.
"We need to take a statement from Ms. Carter concerning the financial transfers and the circumstances surrounding the trip.""
Tasha wiped her face.
"Can I speak to Malcolm first?""
The officer looked at him.
Malcolm shook his head.
"Not until we've established what's true.""
Tasha nodded slowly.
Then she reached into her purse and removed a folded piece of paper.
"I didn't bring the envelope," she whispered.
"But I copied one page before I hid it.""
She handed the paper to Officer Daniels.
He examined it, then passed it to Malcolm.
Renee's handwriting covered the page.
At the top was a date from three weeks before her death.
Below it was a sentence that made Malcolm grip the edge of the desk.
If Derek tells Malcolm the truth about Isaiah, make sure Malcolm sees the original medical report before he believes anything.
Malcolm looked up.
"Where is the medical report?""
Tasha's lips trembled.
"I don't know.""
But I noticed something in her hand.
A small brass key.
The same kind of key that had opened the cabinet in our study.
I stared at it.
"Tasha," I said quietly, "what does that key open?""
She closed her fingers around it.
For the first time, she looked truly terrified.
"Nothing.""
Malcolm held out his hand.
"Give it to me.""
She shook her head.
"Please. You don't understand.""
"Then help me understand.""
She looked at the key, then at the paper.
Finally, she whispered, "It opens the box Renee gave me before she died.""
"What box?"" I asked.
May you like
Tasha's eyes filled with tears.
"The one containing the original medical report.""