Chapter 17
“I know.”
“Did Robert believe him?”
Margaret's silence answered me.
I stood.
For eight years, I had blamed Daniel for abandoning his children.
Now I was discovering that another man might have stolen one while the rest of us were fighting to survive.
I turned toward Daniel.
“Call the police.”
He nodded immediately.
“And Daniel?”
He stopped.
“Tell them everything. Including the forged documents, the threats, and the missing trust money.”
For once, he didn't argue.
“I will.”
THE GENERAL WHO CALLED FROM THE GRAVE
The mysterious number called again.
I answered with my phone on speaker.
“Who is this?”
A man laughed softly.
“You always were difficult, Kesha.”
I recognized the voice.
Not General Robert Reynolds.
Charles Whitcomb.
“Where is Elijah?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“You should be more concerned about what happens if you involve the authorities.”
“They're already being contacted.”
Silence.
Then Charles spoke.
“You've made a mistake.”
“No, Charles. You made your mistake eight years ago.”
He laughed again.
“You have no idea what happened.”
“Then explain it.”
“I saved that boy.”
“From whom?”
Another pause.
“From a family that wanted him forgotten.”
I gripped the phone.
“You don't get to call yourself his savior while threatening him.”
Charles's voice hardened.
“Midnight. The old Reynolds chapel. Bring the trust documents. No police.”
I glanced at the clock.
Eleven seventeen.
“Let me speak to Elijah.”
“No.”
“Then I have no reason to believe he's safe.”
There was movement on the other end.
A muffled argument.
Then a small voice.
“Hello?”
My heart nearly stopped.
“Elijah?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Sweetheart, my name is Kesha.”
“I know.”
His voice trembled.
“Are you really my mommy?”
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
“I don't know everything yet, sweetheart. But I'm going to find out. And I want you to be safe.”
A small silence followed.
Then he whispered something I would remember for the rest of my life.
“I kept thinking maybe you didn't want me.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
“Oh, sweetheart. I never knew where you were.”
“Would you have come?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“If I'd known you needed me, I would have come.”
Suddenly, Charles took the phone.
“Midnight, Commander.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the screen.
Then I looked at Daniel.
“Whatever happens tonight, that child comes first.”
Daniel nodded.
And for the first time since our divorce, I believed he understood that being a father required something more than a surname.