Chapter 8 - THE GRANDMOTHER WHO HAD BEEN THERE ALL ALONGRachel stared at Diane.
"Eight years?"
Diane didn't correct herself.
"You've known Noah since he was one?"
"Approximately."
Rachel felt physically sick.
"Michael didn't know."
"No."
"Samantha?"
"She knew I occasionally checked on him."
"Checked on him?"
Diane's expression became defensive.
"I made sure he was cared for."
Rachel laughed in disbelief.
"You blackmailed his mother into leaving Chicago, then followed her across the country?"
"I didn't follow anyone."
"How did you know where they lived?"
"The agreement required updated contact information."
Of course it did.
Every piece of Diane's generosity came with a leash.
Rachel stepped closer.
"Did you see him?"
"A few times."
"Define a few."
"Birthdays. Occasionally Christmas."
Rachel's mouth fell open.
"You visited him?"
"I sent gifts."
"Did he know who you were?"
"Not at first."
Rachel thought about Noah growing up with a mysterious wealthy woman occasionally appearing in his life.
"What did Samantha tell him?"
"That I was an old family friend."
"Did you ask her to lie?"
"I asked her to avoid unnecessary confusion."
Rachel nearly slapped her again.
Instead she clenched her hands.
"You had eight years to tell Michael he had a son."
"It wasn't my place."
Rachel laughed.
"Yesterday it was your place to tell me in the middle of an argument."
Diane looked away.
That finally exposed something.
Yesterday had not been planned.
She had lost control.
And Diane hated losing control.
"Why keep Noah secret from Michael if you cared about him?"
"Because Michael had a family."
"So did Noah."
Diane's eyes hardened.
"You don't understand what Michael was like then."
"What was he like?"
"Impulsive. Easily influenced. If he'd known the boy was definitely his, he might have left you out of guilt."
Rachel stared.
That possibility hurt differently.
"Did you want us married that badly?"
"No."
Rachel almost laughed.
At least Diane was consistent.
"But once you became pregnant with Emma, stability mattered."
Rachel remembered.
Emma had been conceived only four months after the wedding.
Diane had suddenly become almost pleasant during the pregnancy.
For several months, Rachel had believed motherhood had softened her.
Now she understood.
Diane hadn't become kinder.
She had simply decided Rachel was permanent.
"Why did you keep seeing Noah?"
Diane looked toward the family photographs.
"Because he was Michael's."
"You weren't sure."
"I became sure."
Rachel froze.
"When?"
"When he was two."
"How?"
Diane hesitated.
Rachel's anger sharpened.
"You did a DNA test."
"A private one."
"Without Michael?"
"Yes."
"Without Samantha's consent?"
Diane didn't answer.
Rachel stared at her.
"You tested a two-year-old child behind everyone's back."
"I needed certainty."
"And once you had it, you still said nothing."
"Correct."
Rachel thought of Michael's shock when Samantha contacted him fourteen months ago.
His mother had known the truth for seven years longer.
"What did you tell Samantha?"
"That nothing had changed."
"Except you started visiting."
"Occasionally."
Rachel understood something else.
"Diane, why did Samantha tolerate you?"
Diane smiled faintly.
"Because she needed money."
Rachel shook her head.
"Not anymore. You said she built a business."
"Eventually."
"What did you pay for?"
Diane didn't answer.
"School?"
Silence.
"Medical bills?"
Still nothing.
Rachel's stomach tightened.
"His entire life?"
Diane looked irritated.
"I ensured my grandson wasn't raised in poverty."
Rachel felt a strange flash of pity for Samantha.
Imagine accepting help from the woman who had already controlled your life because refusing might hurt your child.
"How much money have you given them?"
"That's irrelevant."
"It isn't to Samantha."
"She accepted every check."
"You always say that like accepting money erases coercion."
Diane stood.
"I think we're done."
Rachel didn't move.
"Tell Michael."
Diane's face changed.
"What?"
"You are going to tell him you've known his son for eight years."
"No."
"Then I will."
"You don't understand what that will do."
Rachel almost smiled.
"That's the point, Diane. For once, you're not going to decide what truth everyone else can survive."
She left.
Michael was waiting in the driveway when Rachel returned home.
One look at her face and he knew something had happened.
"What did she say?"
Rachel walked past him.
Inside, she checked that Emma was still at school.
Then turned.
"Your mother has known Noah is yours since he was two."
Michael stared at her.
"What?"
"She had him DNA tested."
"No."
"She's been seeing him for eight years."
Michael's face drained.
Rachel watched disbelief become anger.
Then something deeper.
Grief.
"She knew?"
"Yes."
"All that time?"
"Yes."
Michael sat down.
Rachel had never seen him look so lost.
"She watched me talk about wanting another kid."
Rachel's anger paused.
"What?"
Michael stared at the floor.
"After Emma turned three, I wanted another."
Rachel remembered.
They had tried for almost two years.
Two miscarriages.
Then Rachel had decided she couldn't keep going through it.
Michael had held her in the hospital and told her Emma was enough.
Now his voice broke.
"Mom watched us go through all of that knowing I already had another child."
Rachel sat across from him.
For the first time since Sunday dinner, their pain overlapped.
It did not erase his betrayal.
But Rachel understood the cruelty of what Diane had done to him.
Michael looked up.
"I need to see Sam."
Rachel's defenses rose.
"Why?"
"Because if Mom has been in Noah's life for eight years, I need to know what else she's done."
Rachel thought of Diane's warning.
Seattle.
The police report.
"There's something else."
She told him.
Michael immediately called Samantha.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then his phone buzzed.
Not Samantha.
A text from Noah's number.
Mr. Holloway, Mom is gone.
Michael stood.
A second message appeared.
Her phone is here. Her car is here. I don't know where she went.
Rachel stared at him.
Michael whispered, "He's alone."
May you like
And for the first time, the secrets surrounding the three-day trip no longer felt like an old betrayal.
They felt dangerous.
Related Stories
