Chapter6
1129 Words
Adrian set the papers down, with a hitched breath. The confirmation was a physical blow. He picked up the diary. The first entry was dated years before his birth. Innocent entries about college, friends, hopes. Then, the tone shifted. “I met a man. His name is Jonathan. He is everything a lady wants. Charming and powerful but older.” The entries grew more passionate, then more secretive. Then came the mentions of late-night meetings with whispered promises. “He says he loves me. He says he’ll leave. When the time is right…”
He flipped forward, frantically searching and digging. And then he saw it. “pregnant. Told Jonathan today. He went pale. Not happy. Angry? Scared? Said it complicated everything. His position. His marriage. His reputation…”
Adrian flipped to another page. “He offered money. A lot of money. To go away. To disappear. To never contact him again. To say the baby is Michael’s. Michael… he’s kind. He likes me. But it’s a lie. A terrible lie. Jonathan… how could you? You said you loved us…”
The raw pain and betrayal, leaped off the page. Adrian could hear his mother’s voice, choked with tears. The final entries before his birth were bleak. Resignation. Fear. “Agreed. For the baby. For safety. Jonathan’s man arranged everything. The hospital. The papers. Michael will be named. We’ll move away. Start over. The lie must hold. Jonathan says it’s the only way to protect us. From his enemies? Or from him? I don’t know anymore. I just want my baby safe.”
After his birth, the entries resumed. They felt sporadic and filled with love for him. But underscored by a deep, enduring sadness. Mentions of Michael Carter being a good man, trying his best, but the shadow of the lie was always there. The final entry, dated shortly before she got sick: “Adrian asked about his father today. Looked so much like him at that moment. My heart stopped. Told him Michael is his father. The lie tastes like ash. Someday, my boy, you deserve the truth. But the truth is dangerous. Jonathan’s world… eats people like us. Be safe, my love. Always.”
Adrian shut the diary. He then pressed the tip of his hands into his eyes. He could still see her. Even beyond the photo on his desk. He saw a woman who had been crushed by betrayal. A woman who was forced to live a lie just to protect him. Within him, he burned with grief. And the grief was coupled with a furious hatred for the man behind it all. Jonathan Reed.
His hands shook as he reached for the sealed envelope. For my son, Adrian. When you are ready. He didn’t feel ready. But he still opened it anyway. Inside the envelope, there was a sheet. Her handwriting was not properly even. It seemed like it was written in a rush.
My dearest Adrian,
If you’re reading this, you found the key. You found the truth I couldn’t bear to tell you while I lived. The fear… it was always there. Fear of him. Fear of what he might do if he knew you sought him. Fear of the world he moves in.
Jonathan Reed is your father. Biologically. Nothing else. He gave you life, then demanded it be hidden. He paid for silence. He paid for the lie. He paid Michael to be a stand-in, a shield. Michael tried, Adrian. He wasn’t a bad man, just weak. He took the money, gave us a name, some stability. But he wasn’t your father. Not in the ways that matter. I loved you enough for ten fathers. Never doubt that. But the injustice of what Jonathan did… the cowardice… it ate at me. This box holds the proof. The real birth record. The hospital memos showing his directive to lie. My diary, for what little my pain is worth as evidence.
Why tell you now? Because secrets fester. Because you have a right to know where you come from, even if it’s ugly. Even if it hurts. But Adrian, please, be careful. Jonathan Reed is powerful. And dangerously powerful. His world is built on money, influence, and crushing anyone who threatens it. He abandoned us because we were a threat to his carefully constructed life. If you confront him… I don’t know what he will do. Deny you? Buy you off? Or worse? He has enemies, powerful ones, who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you if they saw you as leverage.
I leave the choice to you, my son. Seek him. Or walk away. Build your own life, far from his shadow. Whatever you choose, know I loved you fiercely, completely. You were my truth in a life of lies. Be strong. Be safe.All my love, always,
Mom
The letter fell from Adrian’s fingers and hit the table. He sank into the chair. The room suddenly felt hot. Everything began to weigh on him. The betrayal and the cold way Jonathan Reed had done it. The weight his mother had carried alone. It was too much. The slight anger in him worsened.
He sat there for a long time without moving. The metal box was still open in front of him.
His mother’s warning “be careful” kept coming back. But so did Veronica’s sneer. The memory of the humiliation flooded his mind. The feeling of being Adrian Carter, the delivery boy, the unwanted husband, the nobody. It all came together into something he couldn’t shake.
Being careful wasn’t enough anymore. He needed power. The kind of power Jonathan Reed had. He needed to look him in the eye. He put the diary, the hospital records, and the letter back in the box, one by one and closed it. Afterwards he rang ther bell
An hour later, Adrian sat in a dimly lit internet café downtown, the glow of the monitor reflecting in his hard eyes. He accessed a newly created, anonymous email account. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He needed to be direct. Intriguing enough to get a response, but revealing nothing.
To: jreed@reedtech.com
From: seattleinquirer73@tempmail.net
Subject: Urgent Matter – Clara Carter
Mr. Reed,
I possess documentation concerning Clara Carter and a birth occurring at St. Jude Medical Center, Seattle. This documentation includes original records and personal correspondence you may find highly relevant. I require a confidential, in-person meeting at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter. Discretion is paramount. Awaiting your instructions.
He hit send. The message vanished into the digital ether. Adrian leaned back, the plastic chair creaking. The hunt had just cornered its prey. The delivery boy had sent a message to the king. Now, he waited. The fire in his chest burned cold and clear.
- Writer
