David Mercer looked directly at me.
Then he looked at Mom.
Finally, his gaze settled on Abigail, who had just appeared in the hallway behind us.
Her face turned white.
David gave a tired smile.
“Hello, Abigail.”
She whispered one word.
“Dad.”
Every person in that room went silent.
I turned toward my wife.
“Your father?”
Abigail backed away.
“No.”
David stepped closer.
“You told him I was dead?”
“Stay away from me.”
I looked at Mom.
She closed her eyes.
“How long have you known?”
“Six years.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your father made me promise.”
“My father knew?”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“Samuel, your father didn’t die from the illness you were told he had.”
The room seemed to tilt.
I could barely breathe.
“What are you saying?”
David reached into his coat.
Detective Ramirez immediately moved forward.
David stopped.
Slowly, he removed an envelope.
