Chapter 2: The Secret Denise Buried
For several seconds, Jasmine stood with the phone pressed against her ear.
“Mom?””
The screen showed the call had ended.
She immediately called back.
Voicemail.
She tried again.
Voicemail.
“She's never done that before,” Jasmine said.
“She always answers me.””
Ryan paced across the living room, dragging a hand through his short fade.
“Who says something like that and hangs up?””
Thomas had gone completely still.
“Papers,” he murmured.
Ryan turned toward him.
“What papers?””
Thomas didn't answer.
Jasmine looked between the two men.
“Can somebody please explain what's happening?””
Thomas rose slowly from the chair.
“Your mother said not to let me see the papers. That suggests she knows something about Amelia.””
“Or she's scared because a stranger just told her he thinks I'm his daughter,” Jasmine replied.
“You haven't even proven anything.””
Her words were sharp, but her voice shook.
Thomas accepted the rebuke with a small nod.
“You're right.””
He returned the old photograph to its plastic sleeve.
“I've spent twenty-two years wondering where my little girl went. I thought I'd imagined a thousand possible explanations. I never imagined this.””
Jasmine looked at the little girl in the photograph again.
“Did she look like me?””
Thomas's eyes filled.
“When she was happy, she'd wrinkle her nose before she laughed. She hated peas. She slept with a yellow blanket and called every dog she saw a puppy, even the old ones.””
He paused, swallowing against the lump in his throat.
“She used to grab my finger when she was frightened. She'd squeeze so hard I thought she might break it.””
Jasmine's tears fell freely now.
“Denise says I used to have nightmares when I was little. I would wake up screaming for someone named Tommy.””
Thomas made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob.
Ryan stopped pacing.
“Dad?””
Thomas pressed a hand over his mouth.
“My daughter called me Tommy.””
Jasmine stared at him.
“She did?””
“She couldn't pronounce Thomas when she was a baby. She called me Tommy, and your mother thought it was the sweetest thing she'd ever heard.””
Jasmine sat down abruptly.
For the first time, the possibility felt bigger than a strange coincidence.
But she shook her head.
“No. There has to be another explanation. Lots of people have birthmarks. Silver necklaces exist everywhere.””
“That's true,” Thomas said.
“Which is why we shouldn't make assumptions.””
He looked at Ryan.
“We need proof.””
Ryan nodded.
“A DNA test.””
Jasmine wiped her face.
“Fine. I'll do one. But until then, I want everyone to stop treating me like a missing person in a photograph.””
Thomas bowed his head.
“You're right again.””
A knock sounded at the front door.
All three turned.
Ryan glanced at the clock.
“Who comes over without calling?””
Thomas walked toward the entrance, but Jasmine moved ahead of him.
“Wait. What if it's my mom?””
She opened the door.
A woman in her late forties stood on the porch, wearing a blue cardigan over a white blouse. Her hair was pulled into a low bun, and a leather handbag hung from her shoulder.
Denise.
Jasmine's face crumpled with relief.
“Mom!””
She threw her arms around her.
Denise held her tightly, but her eyes were fixed over Jasmine's shoulder.
On Thomas.
The color drained from her face.
“Thomas Carter,” she whispered.
Thomas gripped the doorframe.
“You know me.””
Denise released Jasmine and straightened her cardigan with shaking fingers.
“It's been a long time.””
Ryan stepped forward.
“Have you met my father before?””
Denise didn't look at him.
She stared at the photograph in Thomas's hand.
“Where did you get that?””
“It's my daughter's photograph,” Thomas answered.
“The little girl who disappeared in 2004.””
Denise closed her eyes.
Jasmine took a step backward.
“Mom, what is he talking about?””
Denise reached for her daughter's hand.
“Baby, we need to go home.””
“No.””
The word came from Jasmine so firmly that Denise froze.
“You told me I was found outside a church. You told me you didn't know who my birth parents were. Now you show up here, look at Thomas, and act like you recognize him.””
“Jasmine, please.””
“Tell me the truth.””
Denise's lower lip trembled.
Ryan folded his arms.
“You're not taking her anywhere until you explain why you told her not to let my father see some papers.””
Denise looked at him with sudden anger.
“You have no idea what you're asking.””
“Then help us understand.””
“You think a DNA test will fix this?”” Denise snapped.
“You think a piece of paper can tell you what happened to a child who was taken from her home?””
The room went silent.
Thomas stepped closer.
“Taken?””
Denise's hand flew to her mouth.
She had said too much.
Thomas's voice dropped.
“Who took my daughter?””
Denise shook her head.
“I can't.””
“You know what happened to Amelia?””
“I said I can't!””
Her shout echoed through the room.
Jasmine recoiled as if she'd been struck.
Denise saw her daughter's expression and immediately softened.
“Jasmine, sweetheart, I never wanted you hurt.””
“Then stop hurting me with half-truths!””
Tears spilled down Denise's cheeks.
She sat heavily on the sofa and pressed both hands against her knees.
“When I found you, you were wrapped in a thin blanket. You were so small. You had a fever, and you wouldn't stop crying.””
Thomas knelt in front of her.
“Where?””
“Outside St. Matthew's Church.””
“What date?””
Denise looked at the floor.
“October seventeenth, 2004.””
Thomas went pale.
Ryan reached for the back of a chair.
“That was the day Amelia disappeared.””
Denise nodded once.
Jasmine shook her head.
“No. No, Mom, you said you found me months later.””
“I lied.””
The admission landed like a physical blow.
Jasmine backed away from her.
“You lied about when you found me?””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
Denise's face twisted with anguish.
“From the people who were looking for you.””
Thomas stood so quickly that the chair behind him scraped across the floor.
“Who was looking for her?””
Denise opened her handbag with trembling hands and pulled out a small envelope.
It was yellowed with age, its edges worn soft.
“I kept this because I knew someday I might have to tell you.””
She placed it on the coffee table.
Thomas reached for it.
Denise caught his wrist.
“Before you open it, you need to understand something. I didn't steal Jasmine. I didn't take her from your house. I found her because someone left her with me.””
“Who?””
Denise's eyes moved toward Jasmine.
“Your wife.””
Thomas recoiled.
“My wife died three years ago.””
“I know.””
“Evelyn would never have abandoned her child.””
Denise swallowed hard.
“She didn't abandon her.””
Thomas stared at her.
“Then why did you say—”
“Because the person who brought Jasmine to that church wasn't Evelyn.””
Denise released his wrist.
“It was a woman who said she was working for your family. She handed me the baby, the necklace, and an envelope. She told me the child was in danger and that I had to raise her somewhere nobody would think to look.””
Jasmine sank onto the sofa.
“Why didn't you call the police?””
“I tried.””
Denise's voice became a whisper.
“The next morning, someone came to my apartment. He knew my name. He knew where I worked. He knew I had a daughter in foster care who wasn't yet adopted.””
Jasmine stared at her.
“You had another child?””
Denise nodded, crying harder.
“A little girl named Nicole. I was trying to get custody of her. The man told me that if I ever mentioned Jasmine to the police, Nicole would disappear too.””
Thomas's fists clenched.
“Who was he?””
“I never learned his name.””
“Describe him.””
“Gray suit. Gold wedding ring. Scar across his right hand.””
Thomas stopped breathing.
Ryan noticed immediately.
“Dad? What is it?””
Thomas looked toward the family photograph.
A memory surfaced: his wife's brother standing in their kitchen, wearing a gray suit, a gold wedding ring, and a bandage wrapped around his right hand.
Marcus.
The man who had comforted the family during the search.
The man who had insisted the police were wasting their time looking beyond Georgia.
The man who had helped Thomas manage his business while he searched for his daughter.
Thomas gripped the edge of the table.
“No,” he whispered.
Denise looked up.
“You know him?””
Thomas couldn't answer.
Ryan pulled out his phone.
“Who is he?””
Thomas finally spoke the name.
“Marcus Carter.””
Jasmine looked from one man to the other.
“Your brother?””
Thomas nodded slowly.
Denise covered her face.
Then she said something that made the entire room fall silent.
“Marcus didn't just know where Jasmine was.””
May you like
She lifted her tear-filled eyes.
“He was the one who paid me to keep her hidden.””