Chapter 5 - The Father Who Forgot His Name
The church sat outside Madison beneath heavy snow.
Adrian went alone.
Lily argued for twenty minutes.
“You said Dad work.”
“This is dad work.”
“He’s my dad.”
“And if the photograph is a trap?”
She hated the answer because it made sense.
Adrian found the man shoveling snow behind the church.
“Michael.”
The shovel stopped.
The man turned.
It was him.
Older.
Scar along his temple.
Confusion in his eyes.
“My name is Matthew.”
“No.”
Adrian showed him Lily’s photograph.
Michael stared.
His hands began shaking.
“I dream about her.”
Adrian’s chest tightened.
“What do you remember?”
“A little girl with red hair. Christmas lights. A car. Fire.”
The crash had caused a brain injury and memory loss. A truck driver
found Michael wandering miles from the wreck. With no identification and
facial injuries, he entered a hospital as John Doe.
Someone later moved him to a private rehabilitation center.
“Who paid?”
Michael looked frightened.
“A woman.”
“Name?”
“Meredith.”
Adrian went still.
Brent’s wife.
Meredith had known Michael survived.
She paid to hide him.
Why?
Michael remembered slowly.
Meredith had tried to help Claire and Michael expose Brent.
After the crash she found Michael alive, but Brent’s people were
searching hospitals.
She hid him.
Then fear took over.
She never brought him home.
Adrian called Lily.
Michael heard her voice.
“Daddy?”
He collapsed into a chair.
“Lily.”
She cried so hard she could not answer.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Come home.”
“I’m trying.”
When Michael returned under police protection, Lily ran across the
safe-house living room and hit him with the force of a small missile.
He held her.
Adrian turned away.
Some moments did not need witnesses.
Noah watched.
“Is my dad coming too?”
The room went quiet.
Adrian knelt.
“I don’t know.”
Noah’s eyes dropped.
“I don’t want Brent.”
“You don’t have to want him.”
Michael’s memory returned in flashes.
He remembered the chapel.
He remembered Brent threatening Claire.
He remembered Judge Kessler taking documents.
Then the crash.
“Brent wasn’t driving the truck that hit us.”
“Who was?” Adrian asked.
Michael looked at Wynn.
“You.”
Lily screamed.
Adrian moved between them.
Wynn did not deny it.
“I was following them.”
“You hit us.”
“No.”
Michael stood unsteadily.
“You were there!”
“Yes.”
Wynn’s voice cracked.
“I was trying to stop the truck behind you.”
Another vehicle had rammed Michael’s car first. Wynn’s SUV struck the
wreck afterward.
“I pulled you out.”
Michael stared.
“You?”
“I got you away before Brent’s men arrived.”
“Then why don’t I remember?”
“Because you were unconscious.”
Wynn called Meredith.
She arranged the clinic.
The conspiracy was becoming less simple.
Wynn had lied.
Meredith had lied.
But their lies may have saved Michael.
Then Michael remembered Claire.
“She got out.”
Lily froze.
“What?”
“My wife got out of the car.”
Adrian stared.
“Claire survived too?”
“For a few minutes. She was conscious.”
“What happened?”
Michael’s face twisted.
“Someone came.”
“Who?”
“I couldn’t see.”
“A man?”
Michael shook his head.
“A woman.”
Helen went pale.
“No.”
Michael looked at her.
“Red coat.”
Helen had worn a red coat that Christmas.
Lily began backing away.
“Aunt Helen?”
Helen whispered, “I wasn’t there.”
Michael’s memory sharpened.
“The woman leaned over Claire.”
“What did she do?”
“She took the folder.”
“Then?”
Michael shut his eyes.
“She left her in the snow.”
Helen started crying.
“I swear it wasn’t me.”
Lily looked at Adrian.
“Everybody lies.”
He had no comforting answer.
Then Michael pointed at Helen’s wrist.
“You don’t have the scar.”
“What scar?”
May you like
“The woman cut her hand on the windshield.”
Meredith Parker had a long scar across her palm.
