MY HUSBAND THREW OUT OUR 18-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER — ONE YEAR LATER, SHE RETURNED WITH A BABY AND EXPOSED HIS SECRET
PART 2
I stared at Emily, unable to move.
The baby shifted slightly in her arms.
“Emily… what are you talking about?”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Is Raymond still at work?”
“Yes.”
“How long do we have?”
“Until at least six.”
She nodded.
“Then we need to talk before he gets home.”
I locked the front door.
Emily followed me into the kitchen and carefully placed the baby carrier beside the table.
For several seconds, she simply stared at me.
Then she whispered,
“Dad didn’t throw me out because I was eighteen.”
My heart tightened.
“Then why?”
“Because I found something.”
“What?”
Emily pulled a folded envelope from inside her coat.
“I found these in his office.”
I opened it.
Inside were copies of bank transfers, property documents, and several letters addressed to a woman whose name I didn’t recognize.
“What am I looking at?”
“Money Dad was sending every month.”
“How much?”
Emily swallowed.
“Almost six thousand dollars.”
My hands went cold.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. But I know where the money was going.”
She slid one photograph across the table.
It showed Raymond standing beside a woman outside a small house.
I recognized the house immediately.
It belonged to my sister.
My own sister had died years earlier.
I looked at Emily.
“That can’t be possible.”
“It isn’t her.”
Emily turned the photograph over.
Written on the back was a name.
“Claire.”
I stared at it.
“Who is Claire?”
Emily’s eyes filled with tears.
“Dad told everyone she was just someone from work.”
“And?”
“She isn’t.”
The baby suddenly began crying.
Emily picked her up and rocked her gently.
Then she looked at me.
“Mom, this is Claire’s baby.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“What does that have to do with you?”
Emily’s voice became barely audible.
“Everything.”
She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out another envelope.
“This is the reason Dad wanted me gone.”
I opened it.
It was a DNA test.
I scanned the first page.
Then the second.
My eyes stopped on one sentence.
Probability of paternity: 99.99%.
I looked at Emily.
“Raymond is the father?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
My confusion deepened.
“Then who is?”
Emily took a shaky breath.
“You are.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“What?”
“The test isn’t for Raymond.”
She pointed to my name.
“It’s yours.”
I stared at the report.
My hands began trembling.
Emily whispered,
“Claire was your daughter.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“No…”
“She was born before you met Dad. You were told she died as an infant.”
I couldn’t speak.
Emily wiped her eyes.
“But she didn’t.”
She looked down at the newborn.
“She survived.”
I stared at the baby.
Then back at Emily.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because Dad knew.”
A car engine suddenly sounded outside.
Emily’s face drained of color.
“He’s home.”
I looked toward the window.
Raymond’s car was pulling into the driveway.
Emily grabbed the baby’s carrier.
“Mom, we have to go.”
But I shook my head.
“No.”
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of my husband.
I picked up the DNA report and walked toward the front door.
Raymond stepped inside.
He looked at me.
Then at Emily.
Then at the baby.
His face went completely pale.
I held up the report.
“You threw my daughter out because she discovered the truth.”
Raymond said nothing.
I stepped closer.
“And now she’s back with your granddaughter.”
His expression changed.
“Where did you get that?”
I smiled coldly.
“From the daughter you thought you had erased.”
And then Emily said the one sentence that made Raymond’s entire face collapse:
“Dad, I’m not here for Mom to forgive you. I’m here because the police already know everything.”