Aaron remained on the porch.
He looked at Lacey as though he had seen a ghost.
She stared back.
“You know me.”
It wasn't a question.
Aaron nodded.
“Yes.”
“How?”
His eyes moved to Jeremy.
“You never told her?”
Jeremy stepped forward.
“Tell her now.”
Aaron shook his head.
“You don't understand what you're asking.”
“I understand enough.”
“No.”
Aaron looked at Evan.
Then at me.
“You brought the whole family.”
I answered.
“Because the whole family has been lying.”
He winced.
“That isn't fair.”
“It is tonight.”
Aaron opened the door.
“Come inside.”
The cabin was colder than the night outside.
A small wood stove sat against one wall.
Old maps covered the table.
There were photographs pinned above a desk.
I saw Jeremy's father.
Rebecca.
Lacey as a baby.
Then another photograph.
Evan.
Taken years earlier.
I pointed at it.
“You've been watching him.”
Aaron looked down.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was my nephew.”
Jeremy stiffened.
“You said you didn't know whether he was mine.”
Aaron looked at him.
“I knew.”
Jeremy's face went blank.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before he was born.”
Lacey moved closer.
“Then tell me.”
Aaron sat down.
His hands shook.
“Your mother was seventeen when she had you.”
“I thought she was twenty.”
“She was seventeen.”
“And my father?”
Aaron looked at Jeremy.
“Was twenty.”
Jeremy closed his eyes.
Lacey's voice hardened.
“Keep going.”
“Your grandfather didn't want a scandal.”
“So he paid my adoptive parents.”
Aaron nodded.
“But Rebecca refused to give you up.”
“She did not.”
“Then how was I taken?”
Aaron looked at Jeremy.
“Your father arranged it.”
Jeremy stared at him.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“You told me the baby died.”
“I told you what Dad told me.”
Jeremy's face tightened.
“And you believed him.”
“No.”
Aaron looked toward the stove.
“I suspected.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Dad threatened to destroy Rebecca.”
“How?”
“He had evidence that could have sent her to prison.”
“For what?”
“Fraud.”
I frowned.
“What kind of fraud?”
Aaron looked at me.
“Rebecca had taken money from a company account.”
Lacey shook her head.
“She would never.”
“She didn't.”
“Then why was there evidence?”
“Because Dad planted it.”
Jeremy stood.
“You're saying our father framed Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To control her.”
Sarah's words from earlier returned to me.
Money.
Payments.
Secrecy.
It was no longer a collection of unrelated lies.
It was a system.
Aaron continued.
“Dad wanted the baby raised somewhere else. He wanted Jeremy to believe Rebecca had lost everything.”
Jeremy stared at him.
“And you helped.”
“Yes.”
The admission landed heavily.
“How?”
Aaron looked at Lacey.
“I took you from the hospital.”
Lacey's face went white.
“You?”
“I was twenty-three.”
“You took me.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“To the Burchams.”
“Why?”
“Because they couldn't have children.”
She shook her head.
“My parents always told me they adopted me.”
“They did.”
“Then why did they get paid?”
“Because your grandfather wanted them to keep quiet.”
“And Rebecca?”
Aaron looked down.
“She thought you were dead.”
Lacey closed her eyes.
I moved closer to her.
She was trembling.
“You let her believe her daughter was dead.”
Aaron nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was afraid.”
“Everybody was afraid.”
Her voice broke.
“But I was the one who lost my mother.”
Aaron looked at her.
“She never stopped looking.”
That stopped Lacey.
“What?”
“She spent years searching for you.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“Then why didn't she find me?”
“Because your grandfather changed the records.”
Jeremy sat down.
“How?”
“Your birth record was sealed.”
“And the name?”
“Changed.”
“To what?”
Aaron looked at Lacey.
“Lacey Marie Burcham.”
She covered her mouth.
“That's my name.”
“Yes.”
Evan looked between them.
“And my father?”
Aaron looked at him.
“That is where things get complicated.”
Jeremy stood.
“Stop saying complicated.”
Aaron nodded.
“You're right.”
He opened a drawer.
Removed a folder.
“This is the DNA report.”
Jeremy stepped forward.
Aaron handed it to him.
He opened it.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then he stopped.
“No.”
I reached for it.
He gave it to me.
The result was clear.
Probability of paternity: 0.00%.
I looked at Evan.
Then Jeremy.
“It says Jeremy isn't Evan's biological father.”
Evan closed his eyes.
Lacey began crying.
Jeremy whispered, “I knew.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“But you didn't tell him.”
“I couldn't.”
Evan looked at him.
“You let me call you Dad.”
Jeremy's eyes filled.
“I loved you.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“I didn't know how to tell you.”
“You could have started with the truth.”
Jeremy had no answer.
I looked at Aaron.
“Who is Evan's father?”
Aaron didn't speak.
Evan stared at him.
“Is it you?”
Aaron closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
Lacey looked at Aaron.
“You're my brother.”
“Yes.”
“And Evan is your son.”
Aaron nodded.
She stepped backward.
“No.”
Aaron's voice cracked.
“I didn't know how to stop it.”
“You knew enough to know I was your sister.”
“I found out later.”
“When?”
“When you were eighteen.”
Lacey stared at him.
“And you never told me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because by then, I had already destroyed enough lives.”
Evan turned away.
I could see his shoulders shaking.
Jeremy stepped toward him.
“Evan.”
He raised a hand.
“Don't.”
Jeremy stopped.
“I need to understand.”
“You will.”
“When?”
“When you stop deciding what I can handle.”
Jeremy lowered his head.
Aaron stood.
“I owe you the truth.”
Evan turned.
“Then give it.”
Aaron looked at him.
“You were conceived after your mother was assaulted.”
Lacey gasped.
Jeremy went rigid.
Aaron continued.
“I was involved.”
The room seemed to lose all sound.
Lacey stared at him.
“You…”
Aaron nodded.
“I was drunk. I was angry. I blamed Rebecca. I made a terrible decision.”
Jeremy lunged forward.
I stepped between them.
“Jeremy.”
He stopped.
Aaron didn't move.
“I have spent twenty-one years knowing what I did.”
Evan looked at him.
“And my mother?”
“She didn't tell anyone.”
“Why?”
“She was afraid.”
Lacey's face was wet with tears.
“I thought my father was a stranger.”
Aaron looked at her.
“He was.”
Evan looked at Jeremy.
“And you?”
Jeremy shook his head.
“I thought you were mine.”
“You loved me.”
“Yes.”
“Even when you found out?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
Jeremy looked at him.
“Because I was ashamed.”
Evan laughed bitterly.
“You weren't the one who needed protecting.”
Jeremy lowered his eyes.
“You're right.”
I looked at the report.
There was another page.
A note from the laboratory.
The initial sample had been compromised.
A second test was recommended.
I pointed to it.
“This isn't final.”
Aaron nodded.
“No.”
“So Evan's paternity needs confirmation.”
“Yes.”
Lacey wiped her face.
“I want another test.”
Evan nodded.
“So do I.”
Jeremy looked at me.
“Jill…”
I held up a hand.
“No.”
He stopped.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“Did you know about Lacey before you married her?”
“No.”
“Did you know Evan might not be your son?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before the wedding.”
My stomach tightened.
“You knew.”
“I knew there was uncertainty.”
“And you married her anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she was sick.”
I looked at him.
“You made a decision that affected every person in this room.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
I pointed toward Evan.
“You denied him the truth.”
Then Lacey.
“You married his mother under false circumstances.”
Then Aaron.
“You let him remain a secret.”
Finally I touched my wedding ring.
“And you stayed married to me while building another life.”
Jeremy's face crumpled.
“I thought I could keep everything from falling apart.”
I answered quietly.
“You were the one pulling it apart.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Evan's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A woman's voice came through.
He listened.
Then looked at us.
“She says her name is Rebecca.”
Lacey stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
“What?”
Evan put the call on speaker.
A weak voice filled the cabin.
“I need to speak to my daughter.”
Lacey couldn't breathe.
“Mom?”
The voice broke.
“Lacey?”
Jeremy covered his mouth.
Sarah had told us Rebecca died eleven years ago.
But the woman on the phone was calling Lacey by name.
And she was alive.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: Rebecca’s Voice From Eleven Years After Her Supposed Death Revealed Why Everyone Had Been Given Different Versions of the Same Past
The Errand That Should Have Taken Ten Minutes Turned Into a Question I Could No Longer Pretend Not to Understand
Part 6 of 8
