Chapter 4: The Call I Was Afraid to Answer
The phone continued vibrating against the kitchen table.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The sound seemed louder than it should have been.
Brielle stood frozen across from me, her eyes locked on the screen.
“Don’t answer it,” she repeated.
I stared at the unfamiliar number.
“Brielle, who is this?””
She looked away.
That scared me more than anything.
My daughter had always been stubborn. When she was little, she would cross her arms and argue her point until midnight if she believed she was right.
But now?
Now she looked like someone remembering something she wished she could forget.
“I asked you a question,” I said gently.
She swallowed.
“I know.””
The phone stopped ringing.
The silence afterward felt heavier.
I picked it up.
A notification appeared.
*New voicemail.*
My thumb hovered over it.
“Dad.””
Her voice was quiet.
“Please.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
She shook her head.
“Because I don’t know what happens if you hear it.””
That sentence made no sense.
And somehow, it made perfect sense.
I placed the phone down.
“Brielle, you need to tell me what’s going on.””
She walked to the window.
Outside, the neighborhood was calm. A few kids rode bicycles on the sidewalk. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. Everything looked normal.
But my daughter looked like she was standing in the middle of a storm.
“I found out something three months ago,” she said.
I waited.
She didn’t turn around.
“About Mom.””
My heart sank.
“Elena?””
She nodded.
I felt confused.
“What about your mother?””
Brielle closed her eyes.
“I don’t know how to explain it.””
“Try.””
She turned around.
“You know how everyone kept saying Mom’s pregnancy was a surprise?””
“Yes.””
“You know how everyone was shocked because she got pregnant after we thought we were done having kids?””
“Yes.””
She looked at me.
“It wasn’t a surprise to everyone.””
The room became painfully quiet.
“What are you saying?””
“I’m saying Mom knew before you did.””
I frowned.
“Brielle, she would have told me.””
“Would she?””
The question hit differently.
Because I didn’t know.
And I hated that I didn’t know.
“Elena is my wife,” I said.
“I know.””
“She wouldn’t hide something like that.””
Brielle looked down.
“Dad, I wanted to believe that too.””
I pulled out a chair and sat.
My legs suddenly felt weak.
“What did you find?””
She hesitated.
Then she walked to her backpack.
From the side pocket, she pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Not a letter.
Not a note.
A document.
She placed it in front of me.
I opened it.
The first thing I saw was Elena’s name.
Then a date.
Then another name.
I looked up.
“What is this?””
Brielle’s voice trembled.
“Something I found in Mom’s car.””
I scanned the page.
It was a medical appointment summary.
My eyes moved across the words.
And then I saw a phrase that made my stomach twist.
*Genetic counseling appointment.*
I looked at Brielle.
“She had a genetic test?””
“She went three months before telling you she was pregnant.””
“Why?””
“I don’t know.””
The answer bothered me.
Because there were too many things I didn’t know.
Too many conversations that happened without me.
Too many moments where my family existed around me while I was somewhere else trying to provide for them.
I picked up the phone.
“I’m calling her.””
Brielle stepped forward.
“No.””
“Your mother deserves to explain.””
“She will lie.””
“Brielle.””
“She won’t tell you the truth unless she has no choice.””
I stood.
“That’s your mother.””
“And you’re my father.””
Her voice cracked.
“Please stop protecting everyone except yourself.””
I froze.
Because that wasn’t anger.
That was pain.
A child begging her parent to finally see something.
I looked back at the document.
“What exactly are you afraid I’ll find?””
Brielle didn’t answer.
Instead, she walked to the counter and picked up the notebook.
She opened it to the final page.
“I wrote this the day I found the papers.””
She handed it to me.
The handwriting was shaky.
I think Dad is going to lose everything.
I looked at her.
“Why would you write that?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because I found out Mom wasn’t the only person hiding something.””
My heart started pounding.
“What does that mean?””
Before she could respond, my phone rang again.
Same number.
This time, Brielle didn’t tell me not to answer.
She just looked terrified.
I picked up.
“Hello?””
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then a man spoke.
“Daniel Carter?””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Yes.””
“I need to talk to you about your son.””
My eyes moved to Brielle.
“What about my son?””
The man took a breath.
Then he said six words that changed the entire room.
May you like
“Your wife never told you the truth.””
The call ended.