The days after reading Mom's letter felt different. I wasn't just sad anymore — I was determined.
Every morning, I'd wake before sunrise, sit by the window, and whisper, "For Mom."
Uncle Festus noticed the change in me. One evening, while we were eating dinner in silence, he finally said, "You've been quiet lately, Kendra. What's on your mind?"
I looked up from my plate. "I want to help Mom. I can't just sit here while she's in jail. I need to do something."
He sighed, pushing his food aside. "You're like your mother — stubborn." Then, after a pause: "Alright. There's something you should see."
He led me to his study — a large, dim room filled with old books and the faint smell of tobacco. He unlocked a drawer and pulled out a black folder stamped CONFIDENTIAL.
"This," he said, handing it to me, "was part of the evidence your mother collected."
Inside were photos, documents, and bank transfers — all tying my father to things I could hardly believe: stolen identities, bribed officials, and names of people I didn't recognize. But one file stood out — a birth certificate. My birth certificate.
I frowned. "Why is this here?"
Uncle Festus hesitated. "Because… it's not the one you grew up seeing."
My pulse quickened as I scanned it. The name on the mother's line read Shantel Pierce, but the father's name wasn't Hills Morgan. It said Christopher Vane.
"What—what is this?" I whispered.
He rubbed his temples. "Your mother planned to tell you when you turned eighteen. Hills isn't your biological father, Kendra. Christopher Vane was."
I froze. The air around me seemed to vanish. "So all this time—"
"She married Hills when you were two. He adopted you legally. But when he found out about Christopher, he… he lost control. That's when everything started."
My stomach churned. "So he hurt her because of me?"
"No," Uncle Festus said softly. "He hurt her because she loved someone he could never be."
I sank into the chair, trembling. The memories of my father's cruelty now twisted with a new kind of horror — not just what he'd done, but why.
"Where's Christopher now?" I asked.
Uncle Festus looked away. "Dead. He was killed years ago — before your mother even escaped. She believed Hills was behind it."
Tears filled my eyes. "So she's been carrying that pain alone all this time."
He nodded. "And now it's up to us to prove it."
Later that night, I couldn't sleep. I stared at the folder again, tracing my real father's name with my finger. Something in me shifted — the confusion, the fear — all turning into fire.
I opened my laptop and began searching everything I could find about Hills Morgan and Christopher Vane. Hidden among old articles and press releases, one name kept appearing — Dr. Mason Lee, a scientist from Hills's company who disappeared five years ago. The last person seen with him was… my mother.
A chill ran through me.
"What were you hiding, Mom?" I whispered.
I didn't know it then, but that single question would unravel everything I thought I knew about my family — and about myself.