Chapter 10 - THE LAST SECRET
The message haunted me for two days.
I refused to tell Daniel.
I refused to tell Patricia.
But I couldn't stop thinking about it.
You don't know who the baby's father really is.
It was impossible.
Daniel was my husband.
The baby was his.
Unless…
No.
I wouldn't allow Patricia to destroy my mind again.
Then Dr. Keller called.
“Claire, we received an unusual request.”
“What kind?”
“Someone requested your baby's medical records.”
“Who?”
“They claimed to be an authorized family member.”
“Who?”
He paused.
“Daniel's mother.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did you give them to her?”
“Absolutely not.”
I exhaled.
“Thank you.”
Then he said:
“There was another request.”
“From who?”
He hesitated.
“An attorney representing a private laboratory.”
My blood ran cold.
“What laboratory?”
He gave me the name.
I recognized it.
It was the laboratory Patricia had mentioned weeks earlier when she accused me of cheating.
I remembered her words.
That baby doesn't look like Daniel.
I had dismissed them as cruelty.
Now I understood.
She had already planned this.
Dad immediately called Eleanor.
Within hours, we learned the truth.
Patricia had secretly ordered a DNA test.
But there was something strange.
The test hadn't been performed using Daniel's sample.
It had been requested using a sample from someone else.
A man named Ethan Monroe.
Daniel's older brother.
My father stared at the paperwork.
“Daniel has a brother?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Then who is Ethan?”
Eleanor looked at us.
“That is the problem.”
We searched old family records.
Nothing.
No Ethan.
No birth certificate.
No school records.
No medical history.
Then Vanessa called.
“I know who Ethan is.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Patricia's first son.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She told everyone he died as a baby.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
My father stood.
“Where is he?”
Vanessa said:
“He's alive.”
Silence.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Then she added:
“But Patricia has been sending him money for years.”
The pieces began falling into place.
Patricia had another son.
A hidden son.
A son who could have a legal claim to something.
But why test my baby against him?
Eleanor suddenly understood.
“The trust.”
“What about it?”
“If the trust was structured around direct descendants of your grandmother…”
She stopped.
“Then Ethan's existence could change everything.”
My heart raced.
“Why?”
“Because if Ethan is Patricia's son, he may have been deliberately hidden from the family records.”
“And?”
“And your grandmother may have known.”
Dad opened the old safe-deposit documents.
We searched everything.
Then we found it.
A birth record.
Ethan Monroe.
Mother: Patricia Monroe.
Father: Unknown.
Date of birth: thirty-one years ago.
Dad stared at the paper.
“Why would Grandma hide this?”
I looked at the date.
“Because Daniel was born three years later.”
Eleanor frowned.
“That's significant.”
“What does it mean?”
She pointed to the trust.
“Your grandmother may have believed Ethan's father was connected to the property.”
“Who?”
We turned the page.
A name appeared.
Richard Monroe.
Daniel's father.
I stopped breathing.
My father whispered:
“Patricia had Ethan before she married Richard.”
Eleanor nodded.
“And if Richard wasn't his biological father…”
“Then why did Grandma care?”
I looked at the final document.
The answer was written there.
My grandmother had suspected that Ethan's biological father was actually the man who had originally helped her purchase the property.
A man named Thomas Vale.
And Thomas Vale had left behind a legal clause.
Any descendants of his could potentially challenge ownership.
Patricia had spent decades hiding Ethan.
Not because she loved him.
Because she feared him.
And now my son had been born.
The trust had activated.
The DNA test wasn't about Daniel.
It was about discovering whether my son carried Thomas Vale's bloodline.
If he did, the property could become subject to a legal challenge.
I stared at the documents.
“So Patricia wasn't trying to steal the house.”
Eleanor looked at me.
“She was trying to prove your son belonged to another bloodline.”
“Why?”
“To destroy the trust.”
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
“What?”
His voice was barely audible.
“Claire.”
“What do you want?”
“I know about Ethan.”
My blood went cold.
“How?”
“Mom told me.”
“What else did she tell you?”
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
“Ethan isn't the only secret.”
I closed my eyes.
“What do you mean?”
Daniel whispered:
“I found an old photograph.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“You and your grandmother.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It was taken before we met.”
“Daniel…”
“There was another man in the photograph.”
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“I think it's your biological father.”
I couldn't speak.
My father was standing beside me.
I looked at him.
His face had gone completely white.
Daniel continued.
“Claire…”
“Yes?”
“I think your father has been lying to you too.”
The call ended.
I stared at my father.
He didn't move.
I whispered:
“Dad?”
He looked at me.
And for the first time in my entire life, Charles Monroe looked afraid.
Not angry.
Not protective.
Afraid.
“What did Daniel mean?”
Dad said nothing.
“Dad.”
He finally sat down.
Then he opened the last envelope from my grandmother.
The one we hadn't opened.
The one marked:
For Claire — only when she is ready to know the truth.
He placed it in front of me.
My hands trembled.
I broke the seal.
Inside was a single photograph.
My grandmother.
A younger version of my father.
And another man.
I looked at the stranger.
Then at my father.
Then back at the photograph.
My father's eyes filled with tears.
“I wanted to protect you.”
“From what?”
He whispered:
“From the truth about who you are.”
I looked down at the letter.
The first sentence made my entire body go cold.
Claire, if you are reading this, then Patricia has finally come for the family secret.
I kept reading.
And with every word, I realized the story I thought I was fighting—
my marriage, my house, my husband's betrayal—
was only the beginning.
Because Daniel hadn't abandoned me on that highway simply because he thought I was faking a medical emergency.
Someone had wanted me isolated.
Someone had wanted my baby born without protection.
Someone had spent decades waiting for the moment my grandmother's secret became valuable.
And now that my son was alive…
May you like
everyone who had been hiding the truth had a reason to be afraid.
Especially the man I had called Dad my entire life.
