Chapter 3 - THE MISSING PAGE
Victoria denied tearing the letter.
Emily did not believe her.
Neither did I.
The envelope crease showed it had been opened and resealed.
The missing page mattered because Rachel’s first three pages raised questions without resolving them.
Why did she never tell me?
Why did Victoria keep Emily away?
Why were there bruises?
And why had Rachel warned that Victoria was dangerous?
Child services placed Emily temporarily with a foster family for forty-eight hours while they investigated Victoria’s home.
Emily panicked.
“Not foster.”
The reaction was immediate.
She clutched the wheelchair arms.
“No, no, no.”
I asked the worker:
“Can she stay here?”
Madison stared at me.
The worker said emergency kinship placement would require biological confirmation or court authorization.
I was not yet kin.
That sentence hurt more than expected.
Emily was placed with an experienced foster couple nearby.
I promised to visit.
Victoria called me that night.
“Stay away from her.”
“No.”
“You are making this worse.”
“For who?”
She hung up.
Then Madison exploded.
“You’re acting like she’s already your daughter.”
“I’m acting like she’s ten.”
“She ruined everything in one day.”
“What did she ruin?”
“You.”
I stared.
Madison’s eyes filled.
“You looked at her like you look at me.”
There it was.
Jealousy.
Not only anger.
Fear.
My daughter thought love was a limited resource.
I sat beside her.
“She does not replace you.”
“You don’t know if she’s even yours.”
“No.”
“And if she is?”
“Then she’s still not you.”
Madison cried despite trying not to.
“I don’t want a sister.”
I did not lie.
“You may not get to choose whether you have one.”
She left the room.
Then my ex-wife Claire called.
Madison had told her everything.
Claire was calmer than I expected.
“Get the DNA test.”
“I am.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“If she is yours, don’t make Madison pay for something you did before she was born.”
That sentence stayed with me.
The next morning, Rachel’s old medical records gave us our first clue.
She had listed me as emergency contact during the early pregnancy.
Then removed my name two weeks later.
Why?
A note said:
Patient reports family pressure regarding disclosure.
Family.
Victoria.
Then an old voicemail archive surfaced from my company account.
One saved message.
Rachel’s voice:
Daniel, I need to tell you something. Please call me.
Date:
eleven years earlier.
I had never heard it.
IT records showed the voicemail was marked deleted the same day.
User login:
My executive assistant account.
Rachel had been my assistant.
But on the day it was deleted, she was on medical leave.
Who had temporary access?
Victoria.
She worked at the company for three weeks after Rachel left, supposedly to help transition files.
I had forgotten entirely.
Victoria had access to the message.
Then Rachel’s former coworker, Allison Price, called.
“I always wondered if you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Rachel was pregnant.”
“No.”
“She told Victoria she was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“The day before she quit.”
“What happened?”
Allison paused.
“Victoria told her if she told you, she would destroy Claire’s engagement and make Rachel look like a gold digger.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
“Because Victoria hated your family.”
“Why?”
May you like
Then Allison said something I had never known.
“Because your father fired theirs.”
