Chapter 13 - THE MAN I REFUSED TO CALL DAD|
When I was sixteen, I spent six months imagining what I would say if my father ever came home.
Sometimes I imagined screaming.
Sometimes I imagined slamming the door in his face.
And sometimes, on the nights when I missed him most, I imagined asking him why I hadn't been enough to make him stay.
Fifteen years later, when Marco told me Daniel Carter had been located, I felt none of the things I'd expected.
I felt tired.
Bone-deep tired.
The kind of exhaustion that comes from carrying a question for so long that you no longer know whether you want the answer.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Marco glanced at Lucian.
“In a private residence outside Newark.”
I looked at him.
“You said he's been working under Adrian Bell's name.”
Marco nodded.
“Not impersonating him.”
“He's been operating through companies registered to Bell and using business credentials Bell provided.”
I closed my eyes.
“So he never really left that world.”
“No,” Marco said.
Lucian moved closer.
“You don't have to see him.”
I looked up.
“I know.”
“You don't owe him anything.”
“I know.”
He waited.
I stared at the IV line taped to my wrist.
“But I need to ask him why.”
Lucian nodded slowly.
“Then we'll arrange a way for you to speak with him safely.”
I shook my head.
“Not here.”
“Amelia—”
“I don't want him walking into my hospital room like he has a right to be there.”
Lucian studied me.
Then he nodded.
“Okay.”
The investigators handling the threats were already interested in speaking with my father.
His involvement with Adrian Bell's companies made him a potentially important witness.
By the following afternoon, a supervised video interview had been arranged.
I was medically stable enough to participate briefly, provided I stopped if I became exhausted.
My mother sat beside me.
Lucian waited near the window.
A hospital social worker remained available in case I needed support.
Then the screen turned on.
My father appeared.
For a moment, I didn't recognize him.
His hair had turned gray.
Deep lines framed his mouth.
He wore a plain brown sweater and looked smaller than the man I'd remembered.
But his eyes were the same.
Those familiar blue eyes I'd inherited.
“Amelia.”
His voice cracked.
I stared at him.
“Daniel.”
He flinched.
Not Dad.
Daniel.
He looked down.
“You look so much like your mother.”
I felt anger rise.
“Don't.”
He lifted his eyes.
“Sweetheart—”
“Don't call me that either.”
Silence followed.
My mother reached toward my hand.
I let her hold it.
Daniel swallowed.
“I know you hate me.”
I looked at him.
“That would be easier.”
His expression changed.
“I spent years trying not to think about you.”
I continued.
“I told myself you were selfish.”
“That you didn't love us.”
“That you found another family.”
My throat tightened.
“And now I'm finding out you were involved in something that may have hurt me when I was fourteen.”
His face crumpled.
“Amelia, I never wanted you to be harmed.”
“But you let it happen.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The admission stunned me.
I'd prepared myself for excuses.
For explanations.
For a speech about how complicated everything had been.
Instead, he said yes.
I leaned forward.
“Tell me everything.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“When you were young, doctors suspected an unusual immune disorder.”
“The treatment options were limited.”
“Adrian Bell told me his medical investment group was supporting an experimental therapy.”
My mother began crying quietly.
Daniel looked toward her.
“I convinced myself it could help.”
I stared at him.
“Was the treatment approved?”
“Not for what they were using it for.”
My stomach turned.
“Did you know that?”
“Not at first.”
“When did you know?”
He looked down.
“Before your second infusion.”
I felt something inside me fracture.
“And you let them give it to me?”
He wiped his eyes.
“They told me stopping might be dangerous.”
“They told me they'd already invested too much.”
“They threatened to expose the financial records I'd helped falsify.”
I shook my head.
“So you chose yourself.”
His silence answered.
I sat back.
For years, I'd wondered whether I had done something to make my father leave.
Now I knew the truth.
It had never been about me not being enough.
It had been about a man who cared more about protecting himself than doing what was right.
“Why did you disappear?” I asked.
“After you recovered from the acute reaction, I began copying the research records.”
“I discovered Sofia Moretti's case.”
“I learned that the program had continued despite serious safety warnings.”
He glanced toward Lucian.
“I knew Vittorio Moretti had been pressured into a settlement.”
Lucian remained motionless.
Daniel continued.
“I tried to get money out of Bell by threatening to expose the program.”
I stared at him.
“You blackmailed him.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“He discovered I had copied more records than he realized.”
“He threatened your mother.”
“He threatened you.”
My mother covered her face.
Daniel's voice shook.
“I ran.”
I leaned forward again.
“You didn't go to the police?”
“No.”
“You didn't tell Mom to take me somewhere safe?”
“No.”
“You didn't come back when I turned eighteen?”
He shook his head.
I swallowed.
“You didn't call when I graduated college.”
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
“No.”
“You weren't there when I got sick.”
“Amelia—”
“You weren't there when doctors told me I might die.”
He began sobbing.
I stared at him through my own tears.
“And now you want me to believe you stayed away because you loved me?”
Daniel lowered his head.
“No.”
The answer surprised me.
“I stayed away because I was a coward.”
I sat very still.
“That's the truth.”
He looked at me.
“I loved you.”
“But I didn't love you the way a father should.”
“I protected myself when I should have protected you.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then I asked the question that mattered most.
“Can you help expose Bell?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
“Will you tell investigators everything?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you go to prison?”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“Then do that.”
He looked up.
“Amelia, please.”
I shook my head.
“I don't know if I'll ever forgive you.”
“I understand.”
“But you can still do one decent thing.”
He began crying again.
I reached toward the screen.
Not to touch his face.
To end the call.
“Goodbye, Daniel.”
His voice broke.
“Goodbye, sweetheart.”
I disconnected.
Then I cried.
Not because I wanted him back.
Not because I regretted what I'd said.
I cried because the little girl waiting beside the window had finally received an answer.
And the answer was exactly as painful as she'd feared.
Lucian sat beside me.
He didn't touch me until I reached for him.
Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“I thought seeing him would make me feel better,” I whispered.
“Did it?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Sometimes answers hurt.”
I rested against him.
“But I think I can stop waiting now.”
His arm tightened gently.
“Then that's something.”
Two hours later, Dr. Hart entered with new results.
Her expression was serious.
My heart began pounding.
“Amelia, we have a clearer picture of what's happening.”
I gripped Lucian's hand.
“Tell me.”
She sat down.
“Your underlying disease remains significant.”
“However, the new findings suggest that some of your recent deterioration may be associated with a severe medication-related inflammatory complication.”
I stared at her.
“Can it be treated?”
“We believe there are options worth pursuing urgently.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“Does that mean I'm going to live?”
She shook her head gently.
“I cannot promise that.”
“But the situation is not the same as the prognosis you were given.”
I closed my eyes.
For the first time since the seven-day sentence, hope arrived without asking permission.
Then Dr. Hart added something that made Lucian straighten.
“We have identified a treatment strategy, but the first several days will be critical.”
I opened my eyes.
“What do I have to do?”
She looked at me.
“You'll need to decide whether to proceed after we explain the benefits and risks.”
I looked at Lucian.
He didn't answer for me.
He simply held my hand.
I turned back to Dr. Hart.
“I want to understand everything.”
She nodded.
“Of course.”
“And after that, I want to try.”
That evening, as preparations began, Marco received a call from investigators.
Daniel Carter had provided records identifying the locations of additional research archives.
Adrian Bell's companies were being searched under warrants.
For the first time, the truth was beginning to move beyond private conversations and hidden files.
But just before midnight, a nurse entered my room with a concerned expression.
“Miss Carter?”
I looked up.
“Yes?”
“There's a visitor downstairs asking for you.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“He says his name is Adrian Bell.”
May you like
My blood went cold.
“And he says he knows how to save your life.”
