Chapter 3: The Night My Uncle Died
I didn't sleep that night.
Victor had arranged a room for me at a hotel near the waterfront, but I spent most of the evening sitting on the edge of the bed with the newspaper clipping in my hands.
My uncle Daniel had died when I was six.
I remembered the funeral.
I remembered my mother wearing black.
I remembered being told that Uncle Daniel had gone to heaven.
But I didn't remember my father being there.
I didn't remember anyone asking questions.
I remembered a small wooden sailboat.
That was all.
At 8:12 the next morning, someone knocked.
I opened the door.
Victor stood in the hallway holding two cups of coffee.
“I hope I'm not disturbing you.””
“No.””
He handed me one.
“Black, no sugar. I wasn't sure what you liked.””
I almost smiled.
“My mother always says coffee is bad for me.””
Victor looked down at the cup.
“Your mother has a lot of opinions.””
We sat in the small hotel lounge.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then I placed the newspaper clipping on the table.
“Tell me about that night.””
Victor leaned back.
“I received a phone call from Daniel. He said your mother was in trouble and needed help.””
“What kind of trouble?””
“He wouldn't tell me over the phone.””
“Did you go?””
“No. I was stationed at Naval Station Mayport. I was scheduled for duty that evening.””
He took a sip of coffee.
“But I tried calling your mother. She didn't answer.””
“What happened to Daniel?””
Victor looked toward the window.
“According to the police report, he died in a single-vehicle accident. His car left the road and struck a tree.””
“Was he drunk?””
“The report said there was no evidence of alcohol.””
“Then why did Mom blame you?””
Victor looked at me.
“Because she told the police I had threatened Daniel earlier that evening.””
I froze.
“You threatened my uncle?””
“No.””
“Why would she say that?””
“I don't know.””
He opened his briefcase.
“I have a copy of the original report.””
He passed it to me.
The document was several pages long.
I read through the details, trying to make sense of the technical language.
Then I found the witness statement.
Denise Carter.
According to her statement, Victor had argued with Daniel outside her home two hours before the accident.
She claimed he had threatened to make sure Daniel never saw me again.
I looked up.
“Is any of this true?””
Victor's expression was steady.
“I met Daniel once after you were born. We argued about your mother's decision to keep me away. But I never threatened him.””
“Did you go to her house that night?””
“No.””
“Can you prove it?””
He nodded.
“I was on duty. There are military logs, gate records, and personnel who remember seeing me.””
I stared at the report.
“Then why didn't you fight the accusation?””
“I did.””
“What happened?””
“The case was closed after the medical examiner ruled the crash accidental. There was no evidence connecting me to Daniel's death.””
He rubbed his forehead.
“But I never stopped wondering why Denise had made that accusation.””
I thought about my mother.
About the way she spoke about Daniel.
About the way she changed the subject whenever I asked what he had been like.
“Did you know he was listed as my father?””
“No.””
I handed him the birth record.
He studied it.
Then his expression changed.
“This is not the document I saw when you were born.””
“What do you mean?””
“The hospital record I signed listed me as your father. Daniel's name wasn't there.””
He took a photograph of the document with his phone.
“Someone altered this record later.””
I felt cold.
“Can they do that?””
“Not legally.””
He placed the paper back inside the envelope.
“Which is why we need the original hospital archive.””
Before I could answer, my phone rang.
Mom.
I stared at the screen.
Victor didn't say anything.
I answered.
“What?””
“Nia, where are you?””
“At the hotel.””
“You need to come home.””
“No.””
“Don't be childish.””
I closed my eyes.
“I'm not coming home until I understand what you did.””
There was a pause.
Then her voice softened.
“I know you're upset, sweetheart. But Victor is manipulating you.””
“Did you tell him I died?””
“I was protecting you.””
“From what?””
“From a man who was never going to be around.””
Victor closed his eyes.
I gripped the phone.
“He came back.””
“After twenty years!””
“Because you lied to him.””
“He had a career, Nia. He had obligations. You think a uniform makes someone a good father?””
I looked at Victor.
He was staring at the floor.
“No,” I said.
“But lying to your daughter about her father doesn't make you a good mother.””
Denise inhaled sharply.
Then she changed tactics.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed.””
“Then tell me.””
“You were fed, clothed, educated. You had everything.””
“I had a father who thought I was dead.””
“Don't you dare put that on me.””
“You put it on yourself.””
The line went silent.
Then Denise said something I would never forget.
“Your uncle died because he refused to stay out of our business.””
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?””
She hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Victor slowly lifted his head.
“What did she say?””
I repeated the words.
He stood.
“We need to find the retired nurse.””
The nurse's name was Margaret Ellis.
She lived in a small house outside Brunswick, about an hour south of Savannah.
Victor arranged the meeting through his attorney.
When we arrived, a thin elderly woman opened the door before we could knock twice.
Her eyes moved from Victor to me.
Then she covered her mouth.
“Oh, my goodness.””
I stepped forward.
“Mrs. Ellis?””
She nodded.
“You look exactly like him.””
I felt my chest tighten.
“Like my father?””
She began crying.
“Yes, honey.””
She invited us inside.
Her living room smelled of lavender and old books. Family photographs covered the walls.
She offered us tea.
I declined.
Victor sat across from her.
“Margaret, thank you for agreeing to see us.””
She folded her hands.
“I've waited a long time.””
“Why did you contact me?””
“Because I knew I was running out of time.””
She looked at me.
“Your mother told everyone you died. But I held you in my arms after she left the hospital.””
I leaned forward.
“What happened?””
Margaret took a breath.
“You were healthy. Small, but healthy. Your father had just left for deployment. Your mother was upset because he had refused to sign an agreement giving her sole custody.””
Victor frowned.
“I never received such an agreement.””
“I know,” Margaret said.
“She brought it to the hospital. She wanted him to sign it before leaving.””
I stared at my mother in my imagination.
“What happened next?””
Margaret's eyes filled.
“She asked for your discharge papers. Then she told us the baby was being transferred to a private facility.””
“Which facility?””
Margaret shook her head.
“There was no facility. I discovered that later.””
Victor leaned forward.
“Did you see who took her?””
Margaret nodded.
“Your mother's brother. Daniel.””
My heart began pounding.
“Uncle Daniel?””
“Yes.””
Margaret looked directly at me.
“He carried you out of the hospital in a blanket. He was crying.””
“Why?””
“Because he didn't agree with what your mother was doing.””
I swallowed.
“What was she doing?””
Margaret reached into a drawer and removed an old photograph.
It showed a younger Denise standing beside a man in a gray suit.
I recognized him.
My grandfather.
Margaret pointed toward the man.
“Your grandfather had a lot of influence in this town. Your mother was terrified of disappointing him.””
Victor stared at the photograph.
“Why?””
Margaret hesitated.
Then she said something that changed everything.
“Because Denise had promised her father that you would never be raised as Victor Hayes's daughter.””
I felt the room closing in.
“Why would she promise that?””
May you like
Margaret looked at me.
“Because your grandfather had already arranged for you to belong to another family.””
