The Daughter Who Never Died
Richard searched three blocks before finding the little girl outside an old apartment building.

“Sweetheart!” he called. “Where did you get that bear?”

She stepped backward, frightened.

“My mommy gave it to me. She said it belonged to her when she was little.”

Richard could barely breathe.

“What is your mother’s name?”

“Emily. Emily Carter.”

The world seemed to stop.

Upstairs, Richard found a pale young woman lying beneath a thin blanket.

When she opened her eyes, he recognized them immediately.

The same blue eyes as his late wife.

“Emily?” he whispered.

The woman stared at him.

“Who are you?”

Richard fell to his knees.

“I’m your father.”

Emily began crying.

“No. My father abandoned me. That’s what they told me.”

Richard shook his head.

“I buried you. They told me you died in the fire.”

Emily reached beneath her pillow and pulled out an old envelope.

“My foster mother gave me this before she died. She said someone paid her to keep me hidden.”

Inside was a photograph of Richard holding a newborn baby.

And a hospital document bearing one familiar signature.

Richard’s younger brother.

The man who had inherited half his company after the tragedy.

Then Emily whispered something that made Richard’s blood run cold.

“Dad… he knows where I live.”

Richard turned toward the window.

A black car was parked across the street.

And the man stepping out was his brother.

The same man who had supposedly buried Emily twenty-eight years ago.