“You’re still protecting him?”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“I’m protecting Daniel from something else.”
“What?”
“My father isn’t Daniel’s biological father.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
I thought I had misheard.
“What did you say?”
“Charles isn’t Daniel’s biological father.”
I sat motionless.
“Who is?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does Daniel know?”
“No.”
“Does Barbara?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Another secret.
Another polished Whitmore family photograph hiding a crack behind the frame.
“How do you know?”
“I found letters years ago.”
“From whom?”
“To Mom.”
“Who wrote them?”
“A man named Thomas Hale.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“What does this have to do with Vanessa?”
“I don’t know yet.”
But by morning, I did.
Because Vanessa finally called.
Her first words were:
“Claire, you need to understand something. I never intended to fall in love with Daniel.”
I nearly hung up.
