Chapter 3 - ALLIE MERCER
Daniel remembered Allie.
Not as a sister.
That was the problem.
When Daniel was eight, Allison Mercer sometimes spent weekends at this house.
She was twelve.
Four years older.
Richard Bennett introduced her as the daughter of an old friend.
Later:
His goddaughter.
Later still:
Someone helping around the house while she attended a school nearby.
Daniel never questioned why a goddaughter had her own bedroom.
He was a child.
Allison taught him to ride a bicycle without training wheels.
Locked him out of the bathroom once.
Broke his handheld game and blamed the dog.
She disappeared when Daniel was twelve.
His mother, Judith, said:
“Allie won't be staying with us anymore.”
Why?
“She took something that wasn't hers.”
Daniel remembered asking whether she would come back.
Judith answered:
“No.”
Richard never discussed her.
That was how family history worked in Daniel's house.
A person could exist every weekend for four years—
then vanish through one sentence.
Six days before the living-room video, Allison had emailed Daniel.
Subject:
RICHARD BENNETT
No introduction.
One photograph attached.
Richard.
Young Daniel.
Allison.
All three sitting on the same sofa still occupying the living room.
Behind them:
The same dining area.
Before renovations.
Allison wrote:
Your father was mine too. I can prove it. I need to show you something before Judith destroys what is left.
Daniel ignored it for four hours.
Then replied:
Meet somewhere public.
Allison refused.
She said the thing she needed to show him was connected to the house.
Daniel should have stopped there.
Instead he gave her forty-five minutes.
Claire stared at him as he told the story.
They sat at opposite ends of the sofa that evening after Noah went to sleep at Amy's house.
The television remained unplugged.
The laundry stayed where police had photographed it.
Neither of them felt ready to clean anything.
“What proof?”
Claire asked.
Daniel opened his phone.
Allison had shown him a scanned acknowledgment signed by Richard twenty-nine years earlier.
Acknowledgment of Paternity
Child:
Allison Karen Mercer.
Father:
Richard Bennett.
It had a court filing number.
A support-payment schedule.
Not a random ancestry screenshot.
Daniel had already sent it to an attorney for verification.
Preliminary check:
The filing number existed.
Sealed family matter.
Not proof yet.
Enough to disturb him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Claire asked.
“I wanted to know if it was real.”
“You tell me you got a weird email.”
“I know.”
“You tell me some woman came into our house.”
“I know.”
“You don't hide her until Noah accidentally puts you hugging her on television.”
“I know.”
Claire looked away.
Daniel said:
“The hug happened after she showed me a birthday card.”
“What card?”
Daniel opened another photograph.
Richard's handwriting.
Allie — I am sorry you keep having to accept half of what I owe you. Love, Dad.
Claire read it.
Daniel continued.
“I remembered the handwriting.”
“So you hugged her.”
“Yes.”
“Because you believed her.”
“For about ten seconds, I didn't know what I believed.”
“That's still something you tell your wife.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
Good.
Then Claire asked:
“What did she want inside the house?”
“An old security archive.”
Claire looked up.
“What security archive?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I told her there wasn't one.”
“She knew there was.”
“She said my father had cameras.”
Claire looked toward the dark television.
“How many?”
“She didn't say.”
“Did you ever know?”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the ceiling.
“This house had an alarm system when I was a kid. Motion sensors. Exterior cameras.”
“Not interior?”
“Not that I remember.”
Claire stood.
She stared at the large open living room.
The high corner from the live feed.
Behind the sofa.
Dining room.
The spaces they had occupied every day for five years.
Then Daniel's phone buzzed.
His smart-home company.
An emergency technician had completed a remote diagnostic.
One legacy controller remained active behind their modern system.
Manufacturer:
HearthSight Residential Security.
Installation date:
Primary account holder:
Richard Bennett.
Secondary administrator:
Judith Bennett.
Claire looked at Daniel.
“Your mother.”
May you like
Daniel stared at the screen.
Judith had spent the entire afternoon insisting she'd never heard of hidden cameras inside the house.
