Chapter 3 - MY MOTHER’S FIRST LIE
Kathleen Ellis opened her front door at four in the morning wearing a blue robe and an expression that shifted from irritation to terror the moment she saw the photograph in Mara’s hand.
“Where did you get that?”
Mara stepped inside.
“Not hello? Not are you okay? Just where did you get it?”
Kathleen locked the door behind her and pulled the curtains shut.
“Keep your voice down. Tyler’s asleep.”
“He sleeps through everything.”
As if summoned by his name, Mara’s half-brother appeared at the end of the hallway.
Tyler was thirty-one and had been living with their mother for eight months after losing his sales job. He wore sweatpants and a Cleveland Browns T-shirt, his hair flattened on one side.
“What’s going on?”
“Go back to bed,” Kathleen said.
Tyler noticed the photograph.
His face tightened.
Mara saw it.
“You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Don’t insult me.”
Tyler looked at their mother. “You said this was handled.”
Mara felt something inside her go still.
“Handled?”
Kathleen grabbed Tyler’s arm. “Stop talking.”
Mara set the photograph on the kitchen table.
“Vincent Moretti says he’s my biological father.”
Tyler gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Of course he does.”
“You knew he existed.”
“We all knew he existed.”
The words landed harder than Mara expected.
She looked at her mother.
“You let me believe my father was dead.”
“He was dead to us.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
Kathleen sat at the table as though her knees could no longer support her.
“Vincent’s family was dangerous.”
“He said his mother forced you to leave.”
“His mother threatened to bury me and take you the moment you were born.”
“Did she pay you?”
Kathleen looked away.
Mara understood.
“How much?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
Tyler leaned against the refrigerator.
“That was a lot of money in 1999.”
Mara turned on him.
“Thank you for the historical context.”
Kathleen’s eyes filled with tears. “I was twenty years old. Teresa Moretti had men following me. She knew when I went to work. She knew where my mother shopped. She showed me pictures of the hospital where I planned to deliver.”
“So you took the money.”
“I took a way out.”
“And told Vincent I died?”
Kathleen flinched.
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
“Then who did?”
“His mother.”
Mara searched her face.
“Did you know?”
Kathleen pressed both hands against the table.
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
Mara stepped back.
“You knew he thought I was dead.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“For twenty-six years?”
“I built you a normal life.”
“You built me a life where everyone knew the truth except me.”
Tyler pushed away from the refrigerator.
“Can we not pretend your childhood was terrible? Dad treated you exactly like his own kid.”
Mara’s anger sharpened.
“Daniel was my father in every way that mattered. That doesn’t excuse this.”
“He would have wanted you to stay away from Moretti.”
“You don’t know what he wanted.”
“Yes, I do.”
Tyler’s certainty made Kathleen look up.
“Tyler,” she warned.
Mara stared at him.
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“You said Mom told you this was handled. What does that mean?”
Kathleen rose quickly.
“It means Vincent contacted me last month. I told him to stay away from you.”
“He contacted you?”
“He came to this house.”
“And you never told me.”
“I knew he would confuse you.”
“No. You knew he would expose you.”
Kathleen’s grief transformed into anger.
“You don’t know that man. You saw him act protective for one night, and now you think he’s safe?”
“He didn’t lie to me.”
“He has blood on his hands.”
“Whose?”
Kathleen opened her mouth, then closed it.
Mara waited.
Her mother had no answer.
Tyler stepped between them.
“You need to leave.”
“This is my mother’s house.”
“And she wants you gone.”
Kathleen said nothing.
That silence was an answer.
Mara picked up the photograph.
At the door, she looked back at the woman who had packed every school lunch, sat through every dance recital, and held Mara through Daniel’s funeral.
“I would have understood why you ran,” Mara said. “I may even have forgiven the lie.”
Kathleen wiped her cheek.
“Then forgive me.”
“You’re still lying.”
Mara walked outside.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Vincent stood beside it beneath a dark umbrella.
She marched toward him.
“Did you follow me?”
“I knew you’d come here.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
Rain struck the umbrella between them.
Mara held up the photograph.
“I want proof.”
Vincent nodded.
“Anything you ask for.”
“A legal DNA test. No private laboratories you control. No Moretti family doctor.”
“You choose the facility.”
“And until the results come back, you stay out of my life.”
Pain crossed his face, but he accepted it.
“Done.”
Mara turned away.
Vincent spoke behind her.
“There’s something else.”
She stopped.
“Your mother isn’t the only person who knew you were alive.”
Mara looked back.
May you like
Vincent’s eyes moved toward the dark windows of Kathleen’s house.
“Captain Brent Mercer has known since the day you were born.”
