Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Tyler looked at Reyes.
"My father?"
Reyes nodded.
"You knew him?"
"I worked with him."
"Why was he at our house?"
Reyes took a breath.
"He wasn't responding to a fire."
"Then why?"
"He was investigating a welfare call."
I looked at Mercer.
His face was rigid.
"What kind of welfare call?"
Reyes answered.
"A report about a child being left alone."
My stomach tightened.
"When?"
"Six years ago."
Tyler looked at me.
"The night you heard the crying."
I nodded slowly.
Reyes continued.
"Your husband wasn't home that night."
I looked at Tyler.
"I was visiting my sister."
"That's right."
I remembered.
He had been away for one night.
I had stayed home because I had work early the next morning.
Reyes said, "Tyler's father responded with another firefighter."
"Who?"
Reyes hesitated.
"His partner."
Mercer stepped forward.
"Name."
"Frank Dalton."
Mercer's face changed.
I noticed.
"You know him?"
Mercer nodded.
"He was my father's closest friend."
Tyler frowned.
"Where is he?"
"Dead," Mercer said.
"When?"
"Four years ago."
I felt cold.
"How?"
"Car accident."
"Was it investigated?"
"Yes."
Mercer looked at Reyes.
"At least officially."
Something about his tone made me uneasy.
"What does that mean?"
Mercer looked at me.
"It means there were questions."
"About the accident?"
"About what happened before it."
Reyes spoke quietly.
"Frank had been trying to locate a child."
"Lily?"
"We don't know."
"Then who?"
Reyes shook his head.
"At the time, we didn't know the child's name."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because the child wouldn't speak."
I remembered Lily refusing to give her last name.
The connection made my chest tighten.
"What happened that night?"
Reyes looked toward Tyler.
"Your father's report said he found no one inside the house."
"But I heard someone."
"We know."
"How?"
"Because your father mentioned it."
I stared at him.
"You have the report?"
"Yes."
"Why wasn't this found earlier?"
"Because the old file was archived."
Mercer added, "And because someone removed pages."
Tyler looked at him.
"What pages?"
"Supplemental notes."
"Who removed them?"
"We don't know."
Reyes pulled out his phone.
He opened a photograph of an old document.
The paper was yellowed.
The handwriting was unmistakably official.
At the top was Tyler's father's name.
Below it was the address of our old house.
I leaned closer.
The report stated that a child was believed to have been present.
Then one line had been blacked out.
"What does that say?"
"We don't know."
"Why is it covered?"
"Because the original was damaged."
Mercer shook his head.
"Not damaged."
He pointed to the photograph.
"Someone deliberately removed the text."
My heart pounded.
"What did your father tell you?" Tyler asked.
Mercer looked at Reyes.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"He stopped talking about the case."
"Why?"
"He said it wasn't safe."
The room went quiet.
"For whom?" I asked.
Mercer looked at me.
"Everyone."
I swallowed.
Reyes continued.
"Your husband's father kept one personal note."
"Where?"
"With the department."
"Do you have it?"
Reyes nodded.
He took out a folded copy.
I read the first line.
*The child knows the house.**
My breath caught.
Below it:
*She recognizes the woman who lives there.**
I looked at Tyler.
"I don't understand."
Neither did he.
Mercer took the paper.
"Your father believed the child had seen Amanda before."
"But I had never met her."
"Maybe you had."
I shook my head.
"No."
Reyes looked at me.
"Think."
"I don't know her."
"What about the grocery delivery?"
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because you mentioned a delivery driver."
"Yes."
"Could Lily have been with him?"
I searched the memory.
A van.
A man carrying boxes.
A child sitting inside.
I had assumed she belonged to him.
My stomach dropped.
"There was a girl."
Tyler looked at me.
"What?"
"I remember."
"Where?"
"In the vehicle."
Mercer stepped closer.
"What did she look like?"
"Small. Dark hair."
"Age?"
"Maybe five."
"Lily?"
"I don't know."
"What did she do?"
"She looked at me."
"Did you speak to her?"
I closed my eyes.
"She smiled."
A strange ache filled my chest.
"Then she said something."
"What?"
I swallowed.
"She asked me if I was Amanda."
Tyler stared.
"You never told me."
"I forgot."
"How could you forget that?"
"Because it seemed strange, not important."
Reyes looked at Mercer.
"This changes things."
Mercer nodded.
"Yes."
I looked at them.
"What?"
"If Lily recognized you six years ago, she may have been brought to your house deliberately."
"Why?"
"We don't know."
"And my father was investigating it?"
"Yes."
Tyler looked angry now.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Your father didn't want you involved."
"He was dead."
"He died believing the matter was dangerous."
Tyler turned away.
I touched his shoulder.
He didn't move.
For the first time, I understood that the mystery wasn't only about Lily.
It had been sitting around our marriage for years.
A forgotten child.
A missing letter.
A firefighter's report.
A dead man.
A woman in a red scarf.
And now a fire.
Mercer received a call.
He listened.
Then looked at us.
"We found the missing pages."
My heart jumped.
"Where?"
"In the department archives."
"Who had them?"
"That's what we're trying to determine."
He ended the call.
"What do they say?"
"One page identifies the child."
I stood.
"Who?"
Mercer looked directly at me.
"Lily's full name."
He paused.
"And it matches a name in your old address records."
I stared at him.
"What name?"
He gave it.
I knew it immediately.
Not because it belonged to Lily.
Because it belonged to someone who had once stood outside our house.
A woman.
The same woman from the warehouse photograph.
I whispered her name.
Mercer nodded.
"Yes."
Tyler looked between us.
"Who is she?"
Reyes answered.
"Her name is Claire Dalton."
Mercer closed his eyes.
"My father's partner's wife."
The room went silent.
"The woman in the red scarf?"
"Yes."
"Then she knew Lily."
Mercer nodded.
"She was listed as Lily's mother."
I felt my knees weaken.
"But Lily said her father was dead."
Mercer looked at me.
"She never said her mother was."
I stared at the photograph.
Claire.
The red scarf.
The warehouse.
The old house.
Everything was moving toward the same person.
Then Tyler spoke.
"Where is Claire now?"
Mercer didn't answer.
That told us enough.
"You don't know."
"No."
"Then find her."
"We're trying."
Tyler looked at Reyes.
"What about the message?"
Reyes checked his phone.
Another notification appeared.
His face changed.
"What?"
He showed us the screen.
A new message.
No photograph this time.
Only one sentence.
*Ask Mercer what happened to his father’s missing partner.**
Mercer stared at it.
His face went completely still.
Because apparently, there was one part of his father's story that nobody had told him.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Mercer’s Father Had Left One Final Clue, and When We Found Claire’s Name in the Record, the Fire Suddenly Made Sense
I Arrived With Balloons and Cake, Expecting My Husband to Laugh—Instead His Entire Crew Went Silent When They Saw Me
Part 11 of 40
