CHAPTER 4 — THE VOICE FROM TWENTY-SIX YEARS AGO
CHAPTER 4 — THE VOICE FROM TWENTY-SIX YEARS AGO
Emily borrowed an old cassette player from a vintage electronics shop the next morning.
She carried it home like it contained dynamite.
Maybe it did.
She locked the apartment door.
Closed every curtain.
Then pressed PLAY.
Static filled the room.
A man's voice followed.
Older.
Gentle.
Shaking.
"If you're hearing this... then I finally found the courage to tell you the truth."
Emily closed her eyes.
"My name is Daniel Brooks."
"I am your father."
Tears streamed silently down her face.
"I never abandoned you."
"I fought for you every day."
The tape clicked briefly before continuing.
"The fire that everyone called an accident... wasn't an accident."
Emily froze.
"It started because someone wanted the insurance money."
"My wife Sarah discovered forged documents connected to Robert Carter."
Emily's breathing became shallow.
"She threatened to expose him."
Three seconds of silence.
"They set the fire that night."
Emily nearly dropped the recorder.
"I managed to get you out."
"I couldn't save Sarah."
His voice broke completely.
"I still hear her screaming."
Emily covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing.
"I told the police exactly what happened."
"I thought the truth would protect you."
"I was wrong."
The tape crackled again.
"Robert had friends."
"Money."
"Lawyers."
"He blamed faulty wiring."
"The investigation disappeared."
"And then..."
"They accused me."
Emily stared blankly at the wall.
"They claimed I was mentally unstable."
"That grief had made me dangerous."
"They said you needed a safer home."
"I lost custody before I even buried your mother."
Emily whispered,
"No..."
"I appealed."
"I lost."
"I wrote letters every birthday."
"I sent presents every Christmas."
"I waited outside your school."
"I watched you graduate from across the street."
"I was never allowed to tell you who I was."
Emily remembered something.
Every birthday growing up, mysterious gifts had occasionally appeared without a return address.
Her parents always threw them away.
She had believed strangers made mistakes.
Now she knew.
"They were from him."
Daniel continued.
"Every letter came back unopened."
"Every package was returned."
"So when you turned eighteen..."
"I wrote one final letter."
"I prayed they'd give it to you."
"They didn't."
Emily remembered the envelope in Linda's pocket.
She had carried it all these years.
Hidden.
Unread.
Daniel's breathing became weaker.
"If you're listening..."
"It means I failed to reach you in time."
"But if I was able to pay your hospital bill..."
"Then God gave me one last chance."
Emily sat upright.
One last chance?
What did he mean?
The tape continued.
"I've been sick."
"The doctors say I don't have long."
"I don't need forgiveness."
"I only need you to know..."
"I never stopped being your father."
The recording ended with a long silence.
Then one final sentence.
"I'm waiting at Willow Creek Cabin."
"If you're ready..."
"Come home."
Emily looked at the address written on the cassette label.
The cabin was only ninety minutes away.
Without changing clothes...
Without unpacking...
Without even wiping away her tears...
She grabbed her car keys.
May you like
She had spent twenty-six years searching for the truth.
Now she was racing to meet the only parent who had never stopped loving her.
