Chapter 9 – The Unmarked Envelope

We celebrated at a loud, cheerful pizza parlor where no one cared if you spilled soda or talked too loudly. The kids laughed, their shoulders light and carefree for the first time in weeks.

While they played in the arcade, I slid the strange envelope from my purse. It had no return address. It felt heavy, like it held a small book.

I tore the flap open. Inside was a stack of grainy, black-and-white photographs and a handwritten letter.

My stomach tightened as I pulled the first photo out. It was a picture of my husband, Daniel, from at least ten years ago, standing outside a courthouse in a different state. Next to him was Jennifer. And in Jennifer’s arms was a newborn baby.

I read the letter. The handwriting was jagged and frantic.

Sarah. If you are reading this, the judge ruled in your favor. I couldn’t be there today. I’m leaving town. You think Linda wanted Tyler just to control him. You think Jennifer wanted Daniel just because she loved him. You only cut off the top of the weed. Look at the date on the photo. Look at the baby. Tell Daniel he owes me for keeping my mouth shut this long.

It wasn’t signed, but I knew the handwriting. It was the boyfriend from the New Year’s Eve dinner. The one whose name I could never remember.

I stared at the photo. Ten years ago. Before Tyler was born. Before Daniel and I were even married.

Jennifer and Daniel had a child together.

I flipped to the next photo. It was a copy of a birth certificate. The father’s name was Daniel. The mother’s name was Jennifer. But the child’s name wasn’t listed. The child had been given up for adoption.

My breath caught in my throat. I looked across the arcade. Tyler was laughing, playing ski-ball. He was eight years old. He had Daniel’s eyes. He had Jennifer’s exact chin.

A cold numbness spread through my veins as I realized the terrifying truth.