Chapter 13 - A Voice From Oregon

The video call connected after three attempts. A young man appeared on-screen, sitting in a small apartment with plants along the windowsill. He had Mom's dark eyes and a scar beneath his chin.

"I'm Mateo," he said.

I couldn't speak.

"Sofia told me about you," he continued. "Not all at once. Pieces. Your braids. Your love of stormy weather. How you hated peas and pretended the dog ate them."

I laughed and cried at the same time. There had never been a dog. I hid the peas in my shoes and Mom made me clean them in the bathtub. Only someone who knew her could remember a story like that.

"Where is she?" I asked.

Mateo looked toward someone outside the camera frame. "Before I answer, I need you to understand. We spent years moving from place to place. She was injured and scared. She thought Whitcomb's people would hurt you if they found us together."

"So she chose you instead?"

My words were cruel. I knew it even as I said them.

"No," he replied. "She saved me because she couldn't save both of us that night. She sent you somewhere safe. She spent the rest of her life trying to make sure I would be safe too."

"Rest of her life?"

His expression changed. "Sofia died six years ago. Cancer. I stayed with her until the end."

I put my hand over my mouth. The room blurred. I had spent days daring myself to hope. Now hope collapsed into a second loss.

Mateo let me cry. When I finally looked at the screen, he held a small tin box.

"She left this for you. Letters, photographs, and something she said could finish what she started. She made me promise I wouldn't contact you until Whitcomb could no longer reach us. When I saw his company take over the old warehouse, I knew we were out of time."

"Did you send me the message the day I found the photograph?"

"Yes. I sent it to stop you from trusting Marcus. Then someone cut off my internet."

May you like

Billionaire’s Wife Kicked a Waitress in Front of 300 Elites—One Slap Exp...

The billionaire’s wife tried to kick a waitress in the face in front of 300 wealthy guests. But seconds later, she whispered three...

My Mother Grabbed My Wife by the Hair Over Cold Soup—But What My Father...

My mother grabbed my wife by the hair over a bowl of cold soup. And the most shameful part? For one terrible second, I almost defe...

My Parents Kicked My 6-Year-Old Daughter and Me Out on Christmas—Then I...

My mother kicked my six-year-old daughter out of Christmas dinner, never realizing I was the only reason she still had a house to...

He lifted a photograph toward the camera. It showed Sofia in a hospital bed, smiling weakly and holding a card with my name written across it.

"There is one more thing," Mateo said. "She left you a recording. And in it, she tells you who your father really was."