Chapter 3 - Following Him
On the third morning, Emmett grabbed his keys and said he needed to run errands. "I'll be back by lunch," he said, avoiding my eyes.
I didn't believe him. The second he reached for those keys, I decided I'd follow him.
As soon as his motorcycle left the driveway, I got in my car and went after him, telling myself I was being paranoid, that whatever he was hiding had an innocent explanation.
Then I recognized the road. He was heading toward County Hospital.
Dad hadn't been wrong about that much, at least. The question was what else he'd gotten right.
I parked several rows back and watched Emmett get off his bike. Then I saw the little boy run toward him and wrap both arms around his legs. Emmett laughed and hugged him.
Dad's accusation thundered through my mind. Watching them together, I finally understood why my father had suspected something — Emmett clearly loved this child. Even from across the lot, it was obvious. Everything in me went numb.
He took the boy's hand and walked him toward the hospital entrance. Every ugly warning my parents had ever given me about him suddenly felt horrifyingly possible.
A man covered in tattoos, riding motorcycles and playing in bars every night has a past, Dad had said once. Mom had been simpler: Men who live like that always have stories they don't tell their wives.
But something about the scene bothered me differently. Emmett never checked behind him. He didn't look nervous or secretive. He just hugged the boy openly. That wasn't the behavior of a man desperately hiding a lie.
I no longer knew what to believe. But I knew the answer was inside that hospital.
I got out of my car and followed. My legs felt unsteady as I approached the doors. Whatever truth waited inside, I couldn't spend another night wondering.
I entered just as the elevator doors closed on Emmett and the boy. I noted the floor and followed. When my elevator opened, I spotted them farther down the hall and hung back until they went into a room. For a second, before Emmett closed the door, I saw a woman lying in a hospital bed.
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A woman. A child. My husband standing beside them.
For one terrible moment, the scene looked exactly like the secret family my father had imagined.
