Chapter 10 - Daniel Remembers the Night Dad Died

Memory did not come to Daniel like a story.

It came in pieces.

Sounds.

Colors.

Numbers.

Patterns.

The night Dad died had been buried beneath fear for almost two years.

We did not force him.

A trauma specialist helped.

Daniel sat in a quiet room with the lights dimmed.

He was allowed to stop whenever he wanted.

I stayed beside him.

The specialist asked what he remembered first.

“Rain.”

Then.

“Microwave clock.”

“What time?”

“Three eighteen.”

Dad had been pronounced dead less than an hour earlier.

Mom returned home sometime after three.

Daniel had been awake.

He heard the garage door.

Then voices.

Mom and Marcus.

Marcus was angry.

Dad’s silver watch struck the kitchen counter.

Daniel heard it.

Then Marcus went downstairs.

“What did he carry?”

Daniel closed his eyes.

“Black bag.”

“Big or small?”

“Small.”

“What happened next?”

Daniel’s breathing changed.

I reached toward him.

He nodded that he wanted to continue.

“He came upstairs.”

“Where did he go?”

“My room.”

I felt cold.

Marcus had entered Daniel’s room while Mom was downstairs.

Daniel pretended to be asleep.

Marcus stood over his bed.

Then Marcus whispered something.

“Do you remember what?”

Daniel’s fingers began shaking.

He opened his tablet.

He typed slowly.

YOU DIDN’T SEE ME AT THE HOSPITAL.

Everyone in the room stopped.

I stared at Daniel.

“You were at the hospital?”

Daniel nodded.

Mom had taken him earlier that evening.

She told me later Daniel stayed home.

Another lie.

Daniel explained.

Dad had asked to see him.

Mom brought him to the hospital around nine.

Daniel fell asleep in a family waiting room.

Sometime after midnight, he woke and walked toward Dad’s room.

He saw Marcus in the hallway.

Marcus wore scrubs.

Marcus told him Dad was sleeping and guided him back.

But Daniel saw something through the open door.

Marcus standing beside Dad’s IV.

A syringe in his hand.

Later, Marcus realized Daniel had seen him.

That was why Daniel became a target.

Not because of the trust.

Not originally.

Daniel was a witness.

The trust was simply an opportunity.

A way to discredit him.

Control him.

Remove him.

And eventually profit from his death.

Detective Harper asked Daniel one final question.

“Did Marcus hide the black bag?”

Daniel nodded.

“Where?”

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Daniel typed two words.

DAD’S CAR.