Seven.
I pressed play on the recorder. Emily's voice, calm but firm, rang through the room.
“Dad, why do you still have a family?”
“It's complicated, Emily…” David's voice filled the room. “I love you both. But I have another family. And it wasn't a mistake, Emily. This… My other family was built on love. I've supported them for years. Please don't tell Mom. She doesn't need to know.”
“You lied to them,” Emily said in a strained voice. “And to me too. All this time? They said those kids belonged to a colleague. You told me you kept them. Don't you remember? I found you with them at the bakery that summer… Why lie to your daughter?”
The recording ended with a sudden gasp, followed by silence.
I looked at the photos again. My hands were shaking so badly I had to put them down. I couldn't think of anything but the night of his accident...
This happened three nights ago. Emily's car skidded on the road; the police said it was due to hydroplaning. She'd walked this route hundreds of times—during the day, in the rain, and even once when she was sick with the flu.
But that night… Something made him lose control… I kept wondering if he was crying during the trip.
The timeline matched the registration date. Too close.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. I knew they were David's, slow and steady.
I stood up, holding the tape recorder. When he entered the room, I didn't speak. I simply waved it in the silence that reigned between us.
His face paled. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“You wanted to throw away his things,” I said in a low but firm voice. “The day after his funeral? Because… Did you know he had proof of your second life somewhere?”
David froze, as if those words had hit him harder than I ever could.
“Shay,” she whispered, walking slowly toward me as if I were about to collapse. “Please… I can explain.”
“She knew,” I said. “Emily knew. And she confronted you.”
He fell to his knees, not from success, but as if something inside him had been released. His hands fell to the carpet. His head lolled like a child caught in the act.
“I didn't touch her car!” she said, her eyes wide. “I don't know what you're thinking, but I swear on everything I hold dear…” I never wanted her… to die. My God, Shay, I wanted to tell you. I just didn't know how. She surprised me that night. I begged her not to say anything. I told her I'd fix it. And then she… Then she died.”
His voice broke. Tears were now flowing freely. But I looked at him with a strange, empty calm.
He shook his head and stared at the wall behind me.
“I thought if I could get rid of his things, I wouldn't have to deal with my guilt anymore. Every T-shirt, every book… everything reminded me of what I'd done. Every time I passed his door, I couldn't breathe.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something away. But nothing happened. I just felt… silent. Heavy.
But I didn't scream or cry. I just turned and left the room.
The next morning, I filed for divorce. I sat down at the kitchen table, the same one where Emily did her homework, and carefully signed each page.
