Chapter 11
The lake house appeared empty.
Bear found fresh tire tracks behind the garage.
We entered through an unlocked kitchen door.
Family photographs covered the walls.
They showed Richard living another life.
A second wife.
Two teenage sons.
Christmas mornings we never shared.
Emily tore one photograph down.
“He replaced us.”
A voice came through hidden speakers.
“No, sweetheart. I protected you.”
Richard’s face appeared on a television.
He looked older, but unmistakably alive.
Emily stepped closer.
“You let us bury a stranger.”
“I needed freedom from enemies.”
“You became the enemy,” I said.
Richard ignored me.
He addressed Bear.
“Thomas, Margaret never searched for you.”
Bear’s shoulders stiffened.
“That isn’t true,” I said.
Richard displayed copies of letters I had supposedly written, refusing contact with my son.
The signatures looked like mine.
But the dates proved the lie.
One letter was dated while I was hospitalized after Emily’s birth.
Richard had forged them.
Bear ripped the screen from the wall.
A lock slammed behind us.
Gas hissed from the vents.
Jo covered Sophie’s face with her jacket.
Bear smashed a window with a chair.
We climbed outside moments before flames filled the kitchen.
A car watched from across the lake.
Richard stood beside it.
Emily screamed his name.
He raised one hand in farewell and drove away.
Fire spread through the house.
Then Sophie cried out.
“Where’s Grandma?”
Everyone turned.
I had gone back inside.
On Richard’s desk, I had seen a photograph of a woman I recognized.
The nurse who delivered Bear.
May you like
Ruth Bennett was still alive.
And Daniel had her address.
