Chapter 2: The Lie That Lasted Twenty Years
“Tell me what you did,” Victor said.
My mother looked around.
A hundred people were watching now.
The ceremony music continued in the background, but nobody seemed interested in it anymore.
Denise straightened her dress.
“This is ridiculous. You're making accusations based on paperwork you haven't even verified.””
Victor held up the photograph.
“That's your signature on the transfer authorization.””
“You don't understand.””
“Then explain it.””
She looked at me.
“Nia, sweetheart, we should go home.””
I took one step backward.
“Don't call me sweetheart.””
Her face tightened.
“Nia.””
“Twenty years. You let me believe my father didn't want me for twenty years.””
“You were a child. You wouldn't have understood.””
“I'm twenty-four now. Explain it.””
Denise looked toward the guests.
“This isn't appropriate.””
Victor gave a bitter laugh.
“You had no problem making a public announcement that she wasn't welcome. Now you care about appearances?””
My mother pressed her lips together.
The older woman sitting beside her quietly moved her chair away.
I noticed.
So did Denise.
She looked humiliated, and for one brief moment, I wondered whether she cared more about the people watching than about the daughter standing in front of her.
Probably.
The naval lieutenant approached Victor.
“Sir, would you prefer we move this discussion to the administrative building?””
Victor nodded.
“Arrange a private room.””
Then he turned to me.
“Nia, you don't have to come if you aren't ready.””
I stared at him.
He had just discovered me.
Yet he was giving me a choice.
My mother had never done that.
“I want answers,” I said.
“Then you'll get them.””
We walked toward the administrative building.
Denise followed.
She kept trying to catch my arm, but each time I moved away.
Inside, we were shown into a conference room overlooking the harbor. A young officer brought water, then quietly closed the door.
Victor remained standing.
He seemed unable to sit.
I chose a chair near the window.
Denise sat opposite me and folded her hands.
Her wedding ring clicked against the table.
“Can we please have a civilized conversation?”” she asked.
I stared at her.
“You called me unwanted in front of a hundred people.””
“I was trying to prevent a misunderstanding.””
“What misunderstanding?””
She didn't answer.
Victor removed a thick envelope from his briefcase.
“I've spent the last eighteen months investigating what happened,” he said.
I looked at him.
“Eighteen months?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I received a letter.””
He opened the envelope and removed several documents.
“The letter came from a retired nurse who worked at St. Mary's Hospital in Savannah twenty years ago.””
My stomach tightened.
“What did she say?””
“She said the baby I was told had died was alive when she last saw her.””
I turned toward Denise.
My mother stared at the table.
Victor continued.
“I had been stationed overseas when you were born. Your mother told me the delivery had been complicated. She said you had died before I could return.””
He pushed a paper toward me.
“This is the death certificate she sent me.””
I looked at it.
My name.
My date of birth.
A hospital stamp.
But something was wrong.
The certificate listed the time of death as 4:15 a.m.
I was born at 6:42 a.m.
I looked up.
“This doesn't make sense.””
Victor nodded.
“Exactly.””
He placed another document beside it.
“This is the actual hospital birth record.””
My fingers hovered over the paper.
The time was correct.
The name was correct.
But beneath the section marked father, someone had written a different name.
Not Victor Hayes.
Not even a variation of his name.
Daniel Carter.
I looked at my mother.
“Who is Daniel Carter?””
Denise's face went white.
Victor leaned forward.
“Your mother's younger brother.””
My mouth opened.
Then closed.
“Uncle Daniel?””
I remembered him.
He had died when I was six.
My mother always said he had been a difficult man who couldn't hold down a job.
I remembered a tall man who brought me strawberry milkshakes and let me sit on his shoulders at family picnics.
He had once given me a small wooden sailboat.
I still kept it in a box under my bed.
“Why is his name on my birth certificate?”” I asked.
Denise rubbed her forehead.
“It was a clerical error.””
Victor shook his head.
“No. It wasn't.””
He removed another document.
“This is a copy of the original paternity acknowledgment. Your mother signed it.””
I read the sentence twice.
Denise Carter acknowledges Victor Hayes as the biological father of the infant named Nia Carter.
My eyes filled.
“So you were there?””
Victor nodded.
“I was there before I was deployed. I held you. I chose your name.””
He reached into his wallet and took out a small photograph.
A young man in a military uniform stood beside a hospital bed, holding a newborn baby against his chest.
The baby was wrapped in a white blanket.
A woman lay in the bed.
Denise.
I covered my mouth.
“I don't remember this.””
“You were three days old,” Victor said gently.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
“I remember every second.””
My mother suddenly stood.
“Enough.””
Victor didn't move.
“You've had twenty years.””
“I did what I thought was necessary.””
I turned toward her.
“Necessary for what?””
She looked at me.
For the first time, her polished expression cracked.
“Your father was going to take you away.””
Victor shook his head.
“I was going to marry you and raise our daughter.””
“You were leaving for deployment!””
“I was coming back.””
“You didn't understand what it meant to raise a child alone.””
“I had a family willing to help.””
Denise laughed bitterly.
“Your family hated me.””
Victor's jaw tightened.
“My mother wanted to meet you.””
“She wanted to control everything.””
“She sent baby clothes. You returned them.””
“I had my reasons.””
I looked between them.
“What happened after I was born?””
Neither answered immediately.
Finally, Victor sat down.
“When you were six weeks old, I received a telegram saying you had died. I called the hospital. Your mother answered and told me the funeral had already taken place.””
He stared at his hands.
“I begged her to let me come home. She said there was nothing left to see.””
I felt sick.
“Why didn't you investigate?””
“I tried. I requested the medical records, but I was given documents that appeared legitimate. Then I was reassigned.
Your mother moved twice. The address I had for her became invalid.””
He looked at me.
“I was twenty-seven years old, Nia. I believed the woman I loved was telling me the truth.””
I swallowed.
“And you never married?””
“No.””
“Why?””
Victor's eyes filled again.
“Because I couldn't imagine starting another family while feeling that I had failed the first.””
The room went silent.
My mother stared at him with open hostility.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“You're forgetting what happened when she was six.””
Victor went still.
I looked at Denise.
“What happened when I was six?””
She looked toward the window.
“Your father doesn't know everything.””
Victor slowly turned his head.
“Denise.””
She smiled without warmth.
“Tell her about the accident.””
My heart began pounding.
“What accident?””
Victor's face had lost all its color.
“Which accident?””
My mother reached into her handbag and removed a folded newspaper clipping.
She placed it on the table.
The headline read:
*SAVANNAH MAN KILLED IN LATE-NIGHT CRASH.*
Beneath it was a photograph.
Daniel Carter.
My uncle.
I stared at the date.
The accident had happened the same week I turned six.
My mother tapped the clipping.
“Your uncle was the person who helped me raise you.””
Victor's eyes narrowed.
“What does Daniel have to do with this?””
Denise looked at me.
“Ask your father why he was in Savannah the night your uncle died.””
Victor stood so abruptly that his chair scraped backward.
“I wasn't in Savannah.””
May you like
My mother smiled.
“Then perhaps you should explain why the police report says otherwise.””
