Dad, I'm No Illegitimate Child

I was only a wandering soul now and couldn't feel sorrow. Yet when I wiped at my face, something strange happened. Tears slid down my cheeks.

Why could a soul cry?

A ringtone sounded from inside the house. I turned toward Dad as he frowned and answered the call.

Perhaps souls could hear too well, because I caught every word from the other end of the line.

It was a young woman, Beatrice Nolan—my best friend.

"Mr. Carter, Edith is missing. I can't reach her no matter what I try. Could you please help me look for her?"

"Don't play the same trick twice," Dad said, forcing his temper down, though his tone was cold.

"Beatrice, for your father's sake, I won't hold this against you. But you'd better stop being friends with someone like Edith. And don't contact me about anything involving her."

He hung up while she was still speaking, refusing to listen, just as he had always refused to listen to me.

I drifted in front of him, staring at the expression of pure disgust on his face. How could he hate me so much?

"Mr. Carter, something's happened." A young officer rushed into the room, panting. "Your phone was off, so we couldn't reach you. They pulled a woman's body from the moat last night. She had Edith's phone and wallet on her."

I saw Dad's eyes shift in an instant. For a moment, he seemed tense.

Was he actually worried about me?

When I was very young, he had cared a little.

I remembered being five years old. Mom had argued with Dad for a long time that day.

She begged through tears, "I made the mistake, but Edith has nothing to do with it. She's your child. She longs for your love. Please, just love her a little."

But not long after, Agnes moved into our home.

Once she arrived, she and Dad looked more like a married couple than my parents ever had. They kissed and embraced in front of Mom, who stood there silently as though she were an outsider in her own home.

I knew she was heartbroken. I heard her cry every night.

For a while, Dad tried to be good to me. After work, he would play games with me. If I got sick, he would check on me.

That ended the moment Agnes became pregnant.

Dad stopped coming to my room after work and spent his evenings locked in the bedroom with her, laughing.

He stopped reading me bedtime stories and instead carefully caressed Agnes' belly, saying he was reading to Helen.

He stopped smiling at me and began shouting, calling me awful names.

Then Agnes fell down the stairs, and Helen was born prematurely. Dad blamed everything on me.

He said I was jealous of the baby and had pushed Agnes. He accused me of trying to kill both of them.

Nothing I said mattered. He didn't believe me and struck me for the first time in my life.

The memories flickered past like a slide show until his face dissolved, replaced by the straight-backed figure walking ahead of me.

Without realizing it, I had followed him all the way to the moat. Police officers had gathered around. Several of them were familiar faces.

Samuel Porter saw Dad approach and hurried over, concern etched across his face.

"Mr. Carter, the DNA results aren't back yet, but judging from the build, it probably isn't Edith. Please don't worry."

As I stood behind Dad, I saw his hand tighten into a fist. His response stunned everyone nearby.

"Do you not understand proper reporting protocol?" His voice was icy and detached. "Copy the operations manual ten times. Then make a new report."

Startled, Samuel blinked and then straightened up. "Yes, sir. Preliminary assessment shows that the victim has been dead for more than 24 hours. Her face is ruined and unrecognizable. DNA comparison is in progress."