Chapter 3: The Woman in the Photograph
My father turned the photograph over twice.
As if the words might change.
They didn't.
*Ask Mara where she was that night.*
I looked at Eleanor.
“What night?””
She didn't answer.
My father did.
“Who is that woman?””
Eleanor closed the folder.
“Someone your daughter knows.””
I stared at her.
“I've never seen her before.””
“That's not what Carter says.””
“Carter lies.””
Eleanor's eyebrows lifted.
“You should be careful.””
My father stepped forward.
“Don't tell my daughter to be careful.””
Eleanor looked him up and down.
“I can see where Mara gets her lack of manners.””
Dad's jaw tightened.
“Get out.””
She smiled.
“This concerns my grandson.””
“You mean the baby.””
“Yes.””
“My grandson,” he repeated.
Eleanor's expression became colder.
“Your daughter is about to lose custody of that child.””
My stomach dropped.
“You can't do that.””
Eleanor looked directly at me.
“Actually, Mara, we can.””
My father moved closer.
“On what grounds?””
“Instability.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Because I'm exhausted?””
“Because you're hiding things.””
“I have nothing to hide.””
Eleanor opened the folder again.
“This says otherwise.””
She pulled out several pages.
I recognized my name immediately.
But there was something else.
A date.
*October 14.*
I stared at it.
“That was two months ago.””
“Yes.””
“I don't understand.””
Eleanor placed another document on the table.
“Then perhaps you should explain why you met someone at the Arlington Hilton that evening.””
My breath caught.
The hotel.
I remembered.
I had gone there after work because Carter had asked me to pick up documents from a client.
But I hadn't met anyone.
I'd left the envelope with the concierge and gone home.
At least, that's what I remembered.
“I wasn't there.””
Eleanor smiled.
“We have security footage.””
My father looked at me.
“Mara?””
“I wasn't there.””
My voice sounded weak.
Eleanor slid the photograph toward me again.
“Then perhaps this isn't you.””
I looked closer.
The woman in the photograph wasn't me.
But she was wearing a dark blue hospital jacket.
The same kind my hospital issued.
My father frowned.
“Where was Mara that night?””
“At work.””
Eleanor nodded.
“That's what she says.””
I stared at her.
“Why are you doing this?””
“Because Carter has spent two years protecting you.””
My mouth fell open.
“Protecting me?””
“Yes.””
She leaned forward.
“And now he's done.””
My father reached for the folder.
Eleanor pulled it away.
“No.””
“Give me that.””
“You have no right.””
“I'll get a subpoena.””
She smiled.
“Your daughter doesn't understand how powerful my family is.””
Dad's voice was quiet.
“Neither do you understand how stubborn I am.””
For the first time, Eleanor looked uncertain.
Then her phone rang.
She answered.
“Yes?””
She listened.
Her face changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
“What?””
Silence.
Then:
“Are you certain?””
She looked at me.
“No. Don't tell Carter yet.””
My heart began pounding.
Eleanor hung up.
“What happened?”” I asked.
She ignored me.
My father stepped forward.
“What happened?””
Eleanor gathered the papers.
“I have to go.””
“You're not leaving until you tell us.””
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without turning around, she said:
“The baby may not be Carter's.””
The room went silent.
My father stared at her.
I couldn't breathe.
Eleanor opened the door.
I finally found my voice.
“That's a lie.””
She turned.
“Is it?””
“I've never been with anyone else.””
“Then you should have no reason to fear a paternity test.””
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach.
“My baby is Carter's.””
Eleanor's smile returned.
“We'll see.””
She left.
My father closed the door behind her.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he turned to me.
“Mara.””
“I swear to you.””
“I know.””
“Dad, I never cheated on him.””
“I know.””
“He's the father.””
“I believe you.””
I started crying.
Not because I doubted myself.
Because someone had taken the most sacred thing in my life and turned it into a weapon.
Dad wrapped his arms around me.
“You're coming home.””
I pulled back.
“I can't.””
“Yes, you can.””
“Carter won't let me take my things.””
Dad's expression hardened.
“Let him try to stop me.””
I almost smiled.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text from Carter.
*We need to talk. Alone.*
A second message appeared.
*Come to my office at noon.*
Then a third.
*Bring the photograph.*
I looked at my father.
“How does he know?””
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“I don't know.””
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn't Carter.
It was an email.
No sender name.
Only an attachment.
I opened it.
A scanned hospital record appeared on the screen.
My hands began to tremble.
The document was dated seven months earlier.
It contained my name.
My date of birth.
My pregnancy information.
And beneath it, a handwritten note.
*PATERNITY TEST REQUESTED — PRIOR TO BIRTH.*
I scrolled down.
There was a signature.
Not Carter's.
Not Eleanor's.
Not mine.
My father's face went pale when he saw it.
“Who signed that?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
Then I noticed the date.
The request had been submitted *three days before I told Carter I was pregnant.*
My father looked at me.
“Mara…”
The front door suddenly rattled.
Someone was trying to open it from outside.
We both froze.
Then Carter's voice came through the door.
“Open it.””
Dad moved in front of me.
Carter knocked again.
Harder.
“Mara, I know you're in there.””
I stared at the hospital record.
And for the first time, I wondered if the secret Carter was hiding wasn't about another woman at all.
May you like
It was about my baby.
And whatever he knew had started *before the baby was even conceived.*
