CHAPTER 3: THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
CHAPTER 3: THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
I couldn't breathe.
My eyes locked onto the framed photograph sitting on the fireplace.
The little girl smiled brightly at the camera.
Her blond curls framed a face I had seen thousands of times before.
My mother's face.
My family's face.
My face.
The realization crashed into me with devastating force.
"No..." I whispered.
Tiffany's smile widened.
"Oh, yes."
I stumbled toward the photograph.
Every memory from the past year suddenly felt different.
The birthday party.
The Christmas morning.
The afternoons she'd run into my office asking for help with homework.
The little girl who called me "Uncle Ryan."
Not my niece.
My daughter.
My daughter.
My knees nearly gave out.
"What did you do?" I whispered.
For the first time, Tiffany's expression darkened.
"What I had to do."
The answer ignited something inside me.
Rage.
Pure rage.
I slammed my fist against the wall.
"You stole my child!"
The crack echoed through the mansion.
Tiffany didn't flinch.
Instead, she crossed her arms.
"You never wanted her."
The words hit me like a slap.
"That's a lie."
"Is it?"
Her voice became sharp.
"Let's talk about the day Emily begged you to believe her."
I froze.
"You threw her out."
Every word felt like a knife.
"You never investigated."
"You never questioned the evidence."
"You never fought for your marriage."
I clenched my jaw.
Because part of me knew she was right.
I had failed Emily.
Terribly.
But that didn't excuse this.
Nothing could.
"Where is she now?" I demanded.
Tiffany looked confused.
"The girl."
A slow smile appeared.
"Sleeping upstairs."
I charged toward the staircase.
Tiffany suddenly stepped in front of me.
"You touch her and I'll call the police."
I stared at her in disbelief.
"She's my daughter."
"And legally she's mine."
The words froze my blood.
"What?"
Tiffany walked calmly to a drawer.
Then pulled out a folder.
Adoption papers.
Guardianship documents.
Birth records.
Forged.
Every single one.
Yet somehow officially stamped.
Officially approved.
Officially filed.
Someone powerful had helped her.
Someone with connections.
Someone capable of making a child disappear.
I felt sick.
This was bigger than Tiffany.
Much bigger.
Then another thought struck me.
Emily.
Did she know their daughter was alive?
Or had she spent the last year believing the baby was dead?
I grabbed my keys.
Tiffany's voice followed me.
"You should ask Emily why she never came looking."
I stopped.
Slowly turned.
"What does that mean?"
For the first time all night, Tiffany looked genuinely nervous.
But she said nothing.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because it meant there was still another secret.
May you like
One I hadn't uncovered.
Yet.
