Chapter 5: The Missing Report
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
Then I turned it back on.
I read it again.
And again.
*Jenna, I finally found the missing report. There's something your family never told you about that night.*
My fingers felt numb.
Sixteen years.
Sixteen years of believing I knew the worst thing my family had done.
I was wrong.
Behind me, the wedding ballroom was still glowing.
The lights were still on.
The flowers were still arranged perfectly.
Everything looked exactly the same.
But nothing was the same.
"Jenna?""
I turned.
It was Ethan.
Felicity's husband.
He stood a few feet away, his tie loosened, his expression exhausted.
For the first time since I met him, he didn't look like the confident groom from the photographs.
He looked like someone who had just discovered the person he loved wasn't who he thought she was.
"Are you okay?"" he asked.
I almost laughed.
It was such a simple question.
And nobody in my family had asked me that in years.
"I don't know.""
Ethan nodded slowly.
"I understand.""
I looked at him.
"Do you?""
He looked down.
"No.""
The honesty surprised me.
"But I think I'm starting to.""
The cold air moved between us.
"I should have known," he said.
"Known what?""
"That something was wrong.""
I didn't answer.
He continued.
"Felicity always told stories where she was the person who saved someone. She always had to be the one who mattered most.""
His jaw tightened.
"I thought it was confidence.""
"What was it?""
He looked back toward the ballroom.
"Fear.""
I looked away.
I didn't want to feel sympathy for her.
Not yet.
Not after everything.
My phone buzzed again.
The paramedic.
I opened the message.
*I can meet tomorrow. I have copies of the original report and the hospital records. There are details that were removed from the official story.*
Details that were removed.
Those words made my stomach turn.
"Who is it?"" Ethan asked.
"The paramedic from the accident.""
His eyes widened.
"The accident with my father?""
I nodded.
"He found something.""
Ethan was quiet.
Then he said something I didn't expect.
"I'll go with you.""
I looked at him.
"Why?""
"Because if my family owes you the truth, I want to hear it too.""
I studied his face.
He wasn't trying to defend his father.
He wasn't trying to defend Felicity.
He was just standing there.
A person who wanted to know the truth.
And somehow, that felt unfamiliar.
The next morning, I met Marcus Hale at a small coffee shop across town.
I recognized him immediately.
He was older now.
Gray hair.
A tired face.
But the eyes were the same.
Kind.
Observant.
The eyes of someone who had spent his life noticing things other people ignored.
He stood when I approached.
"Jenna?""
I nodded.
"Yes.""
For a moment, he just looked at me.
Then he smiled sadly.
"You got older.""
I smiled faintly.
"So did you.""
He laughed softly.
"I suppose that's how time works.""
We sat down.
Ethan joined us a few minutes later.
Marcus looked surprised.
"You brought someone.""
"This is Ethan Montgomery.""
Marcus froze.
"The patient's son?""
Ethan nodded.
Marcus sighed.
"I was afraid this day would come.""
My heart tightened.
"Why?""
He opened a folder.
Inside were papers.
Old documents.
Photographs.
Reports.
"I need you to understand something," Marcus said.
"The night of the accident, you were the reason Silas survived.""
I nodded.
"I know.""
"No.""
He looked at me seriously.
"You know what people told you.""
He placed the first document on the table.
"This is the original emergency report.""
I looked down.
The paper was faded.
But the words were clear.
*Unknown female juvenile assisted victim prior to emergency arrival.*
Unknown female.
Not Felicity.
Not my sister.
Me.
Marcus pointed to the line.
"You were never officially identified.""
"Why?""
He hesitated.
"Because when we arrived, your father was already there.""
My chest tightened.
"My father?""
Marcus nodded.
"He told us you were his daughter Jenna. He said you were frightened and confused.""
I frowned.
"That doesn't make sense.""
"It does if he wanted control over the story.""
The coffee shop suddenly felt too quiet.
Ethan leaned forward.
"What happened next?""
Marcus looked at him.
"Your father told us the girl who helped was Felicity.""
Ethan looked stunned.
"Why would he do that?""
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"Because Felicity was the child standing beside him when the news crews arrived.""
I felt sick.
The memory returned.
The flashing cameras.
The adults talking.
The reporters.
I remembered standing behind everyone.
Nobody asking my name.
Nobody asking what I saw.
Marcus continued.
"Your father told everyone Felicity was brave. The story spread quickly.""
I swallowed.
"And nobody corrected it?""
Marcus looked at me.
"I tried.""
My eyes lifted.
"What?""
He looked ashamed.
"I called your home.""
The room seemed to shift.
"What happened?""
"I spoke with your father.""
"And?""
Marcus looked down.
"He told me there must have been a mistake.""
A cold feeling moved through me.
"He denied it?""
"Yes.""
Ethan clenched his fist.
"That's impossible.""
Marcus looked at him.
"Your father was very convincing.""
I laughed quietly.
Of course he was.
That was the thing about my father.
He wasn't cruel in obvious ways.
He was worse.
He was convincing.
"He told me Jenna was emotional and had confused the details," Marcus said.
My heart sank.
The same words.
The same excuse.
Emotional.
Dramatic.
Too sensitive.
The words my family had used for years.
"They built the lie before I even knew there was one," I whispered.
Marcus looked at me.
"Yes.""
He paused.
"And there is more.""
I looked up.
"What more?""
He opened another file.
"This was never included in the public report.""
He slid a photograph across the table.
It showed the accident scene.
The damaged car.
The ambulance.
And beside the vehicle...
A woman.
My breath stopped.
I knew her.
Even after all these years.
My mother.
"She was there?""
Marcus nodded.
"She arrived before your father.""
I stared at the photo.
"My mother knew.""
"Yes.""
My voice became quiet.
"Why didn't she tell me?""
Marcus looked away.
"Because she tried.""
My heart skipped.
"What?""
He pulled out another document.
"A statement she gave.""
I picked it up.
The handwriting was shaky.
But it was hers.
I read the first line.
*My daughter Jenna is being denied the truth about what happened.*
My eyes burned.
"She wrote this?""
Marcus nodded.
"Your mother fought for months.""
"For months?""
"She tried to correct the story. She contacted the hospital. She contacted the newspaper. She even contacted my department.""
Ethan looked confused.
"Then why didn't anyone hear about it?""
Marcus was silent.
And that silence told me everything.
"Someone stopped it.""
He nodded.
"Yes.""
I looked at the statement again.
My mother's handwriting became blurry.
"Who?""
Marcus didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Because I already knew.
My family hadn't just forgotten me.
They had protected the lie.
And now I finally understood why my mother had looked so sad in the last months of her life.
She wasn't just sick.
She was fighting.
For me.
Marcus gathered the papers.
"There is one final thing.""
"What?""
He looked directly at me.
"The original hospital records show something else.""
My stomach tightened.
"What?""
He took a breath.
"The night of the accident wasn't the first time you saved someone.""
I frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Marcus pushed another file toward me.
"This is from three months before the crash.""
I opened it.
And my blood ran cold.
May you like
Because the name written at the top wasn't Silas Montgomery.
It was my own father's.
