Chapter 8 - The Wrong NameI stared at the birth certificate until the letters blurred. The document named Marcus Vale as my father.

"It's fake," I said.

"Most likely," Tessa answered, holding it under a desk lamp. "The paper stock is wrong for the year. The registration number doesn't match the county format. But don't destroy it."

Mom sat beside me, so tired I wanted to take the entire night back for her.

"Daniel is your father," she said. "I was there. He was there. We have the photographs, the records, and twenty-four years of life."

"Then why make this?"

"To frighten you," Dad said from across the room. "Or embarrass us publicly."

"I want to hear it from Marcus."

Tessa shook her head. "Not alone."

We arranged a meeting through counsel at a downtown office with cameras and two exits. Marcus arrived at nine the next morning in a charcoal coat, smiling like a man whose elevator had stopped on the right floor.

"Naomi," he said. "You look so much like Ruth."

"Leave my mother out of your mouth."

His smile weakened. Dad stayed by the window.

"You sent Vivian after me," I said. "Why?"

"Vivian has poor judgment. I told her only to make contact."

"By humiliating me at work?"

Marcus spread his hands. "An unfortunate misunderstanding."

Tessa placed the forged document on the table. "We can discuss this with law enforcement, or you can explain how your people obtained our client's private records."

Marcus looked at the paper and then, to my surprise, laughed.

"That's not mine," he said.

Dad leaned forward. "Don't insult us."

"You think I'm trying to win by claiming paternity? Daniel, I need Naomi's vote, not a family reunion."

"Who made it?" I asked.

Marcus's face closed. "Someone who wants both of us fighting."

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Tessa's phone vibrated. She listened to a voicemail, then replayed it for us. A woman's frightened voice said, "Tell Naomi Curtis Bell didn't die where the report says. I have the second key."

The caller identified herself as Denise Bell.