Chapter 2: The Woman in the Picture
I didn’t sleep that night.
I tried.
I turned off the lights.
I put my phone face down.
I closed my eyes and told myself everything would make sense in the morning.
But every time I started drifting away, I saw the picture again.
My father.
A woman beside him.
And a girl who looked like my twin.
The next morning, my mother acted like nothing happened.
That was the part that scared me most.
She made pancakes.
She played music.
She asked if I wanted my usual coffee before school.
Like she hadn’t spent the night begging me to erase evidence of her betrayal.
Like my entire childhood hadn’t shifted underneath my feet.
“Emily?””
I looked up.
Mom stood beside the kitchen counter.
“You’re quiet.””
I almost smiled.
That was funny.
She noticed I was quiet.
Not broken.
Not confused.
Quiet.
“I’m tired.””
She studied my face.
“You didn’t delete the video, did you?””
I put my fork down.
“No.””
Her shoulders dropped.
“Emily.””
“Who is the girl in the picture?””
The question hit her like a physical blow.
The color disappeared from her face.
“What girl?””
I grabbed my phone and showed her.
For a moment, she didn’t breathe.
Then she reached for the phone.
I pulled it back.
“Answer me.””
“Where did you get this?””
“Someone sent it.””
“Who?””
“I asked first.””
She looked around the kitchen.
Checking if we were alone.
That made my heart beat faster.
“Mom.””
She sat down slowly.
“There are things about your father you don’t know.””
I hated those words.
Because everyone seemed to know things except me.
“What things?””
She pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“Your father wasn’t always honest with me.””
“That doesn’t explain the picture.””
“No.””
Her voice became softer.
“It doesn’t.””
I waited.
Finally, she said, “Before we got married, your father was involved with someone else.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who?””
“A woman named Rachel.””
“And the girl?””
My mother looked down.
“That girl was born before you.””
The room went silent.
I heard the refrigerator humming.
The clock ticking.
Everything except my own thoughts.
“You’re saying Dad has another daughter?””
Mom nodded slowly.
“She’s your half-sister.””
I stared at her.
All my life, I thought I was an only child.
My father had told me I was his miracle.
His one and only.
“You knew?””
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Since before you were born.””
I stood up.
“So Dad lied to me.””
“Yes.””
“And you just let him?””
Her eyes filled.
“I thought we could move past it.””
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You built a whole family on a lie.””
My mother flinched.
The front door opened.
We both froze.
Dad.
I hadn’t heard his car arrive.
His suitcase rolled across the floor.
“Surprise,” he called.
His voice was cheerful.
The same voice from the morning he left.
The same smile.
The same man.
Except now I wondered how many versions of him existed.
He walked into the kitchen.
“Why does everyone look like someone died?””
Nobody answered.
His eyes moved between us.
Then landed on my phone.
“Emily?””
I quickly locked the screen.
“What?””
He smiled slightly.
“You’re acting strange.””
Mom stood up.
“Michael, you’re home early.””
“I finished the meetings.””
He kissed her cheek.
She didn’t move.
Not even a little.
He noticed.
I knew he noticed.
My father noticed everything.
He turned toward me.
“Something happen while I was gone?””
I looked at him.
The man who taught me to ride a bike.
The man who held my hand when I was afraid of thunderstorms.
The man who told me honesty was the most important thing in the world.
I wanted to ask him everything.
About Daniel.
About the girl.
About the lies.
But before I could speak, my phone buzzed again.
Another message from the unknown number.
This time, it wasn’t a warning.
It was an address.
And one sentence.
*Come here if you want to know why your father abandoned his first daughter.*
I stared at the screen.
Then I looked at my father.
He was watching me.
Like he already knew.
May you like
“Emily,” he said quietly.
“Who is texting you?””
