Daniel was staring at me like he was looking at a ghost.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone.
“I didn’t find her by accident.”
I pressed play.
A video appeared on the screen.
A teenage girl was sitting in a small apartment, holding the same photograph Daniel had just seen.
She looked directly into the camera.
And then she said:
“My father told me never to contact him. He said my mother was dangerous.”
Daniel stumbled backward.
“No…”
I looked at him.
“You recognize her?”
He said nothing.
The girl continued:
“His name is Daniel Mercer. He abandoned me when I was four years old.”
The ballroom erupted in whispers.
Daniel grabbed my arm.
“Turn it off!”
I pulled away.
“Why?”
His voice cracked.
“Because you don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
He couldn’t.
Finally, the elderly woman at the table stood up.
She was crying.
“I remember that night,” she whispered.
Everyone turned toward her.
Daniel stared at her in horror.
She continued:
“Daniel didn’t lose his daughter.”
She pointed at him.
“He gave her away.”
The room went completely silent.
I felt my heart stop.
Daniel closed his eyes.
And for the first time in twelve years, he finally told the truth.
“She wasn’t my daughter…”
I stared at him.
“Then whose daughter was she?”
Daniel opened his eyes.
His voice was barely audible.
“Yours.”
My entire body froze.
The photograph fell from my hand.
The little girl in the picture wasn’t his secret daughter.
She was my daughter.
The child I had been told died during childbirth twelve years ago.
The child I had mourned for twelve years…
had been alive all along.
And Daniel had stolen her from me.
But there was one thing I still didn’t know.
Why?
And when the girl finally walked through the ballroom doors that night…
she wasn’t alone.
TO BE CONTINUED…
