Chapter 25
I read.
Daniel,
If the tests come back the way we expect, I need you to promise me something.
Do not confront Thomas.
My eyes stopped.
Thomas.
I continued.
I know what he told you. I know why you’re angry. But he didn’t know about Clara until recently, and he has already agreed to stay away.
That seemed impossible.
Why would my mother ask my father not to confront someone who might be my biological father?
The letter continued.
His family is frightened.
Charles has made it clear that if Thomas speaks publicly, the consequences will reach everyone.
I looked at Alexander.
“Charles knew him.”
Alexander stood.
“Apparently.”
The next line made Dana step closer.
Thomas has agreed to disappear from our lives because he believes it is the only way to protect Clara.
My pulse quickened.
At the bottom was a surname.
Not Vance.
Not Sterling.
Not Bennett.
Thomas Mercer.
Alexander whispered, “No.”
I turned.
“You know him.”
His eyes were fixed on the name.
“I knew a Thomas Mercer.”
“Who was he?”
Alexander looked at Dana.
Dana looked equally stunned.
Finally, Alexander spoke.
“Thomas Mercer was my father’s private physician.”
The room went silent.
“My mother’s letter said his family was frightened,” I said.
Alexander nodded slowly.
“Thomas had a wife.”
My stomach dropped.
“And children?”
“Two sons.”
The image of my mother shifted again.
Not scandalously.
Not cruelly.
But painfully.
“Was he married when he knew her?”
“I don’t know.”
Dana said, “We shouldn’t assume anything. Dates matter.”
She was right.
We needed facts.
“Can we find him?” I asked.
Alexander didn’t answer.
Dana did.
“Thomas Mercer disappeared in 2004.”
The same year my mother died.
My skin prickled.
“Disappeared?”
“He resigned from his medical practice and left New York. According to public records, he never practiced medicine under that name again.”
“Alive?”
“We don’t know.”
I looked at the letter.
“Then how do we find out whether he’s my father?”
Dana glanced toward the remaining files.
“There may be medical records elsewhere.”
Alexander was staring at the wall.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Thomas gave me something.”
“When?”
“After your mother’s funeral.”
Every nerve in my body sharpened.
“What did he give you?”
“A sealed envelope.”
I stood.
“You have another envelope?”
“I had forgotten about it.”
“How do you forget an envelope from a missing man connected to my mother?”
Alexander actually winced.
“Because he told me it concerned my father’s medical treatment. I put it in a family archive after Charles died.”