I Donated My Kidney to My Wife—Then I Heard Her Secret Through the Hospital Curtain

Chapter 4

The next morning, I drove to my father’s old house.

I wasn’t supposed to drive yet.

My doctor had made that very clear.

But there are moments when rules become smaller than questions.

The house had been empty since his death.

I still owned it, but I rarely visited.

Dust covered the furniture.

The air smelled like old wood and rain.

I went straight to his study.

His desk was exactly where I remembered it.

I searched drawers.

Nothing.

Then I noticed something underneath the desk.

A loose floorboard.

I pulled it up.

Inside was a small metal box.

No lock.

No key.

Just a faded envelope.

My name was written across it.

Daniel.

My hands shook as I opened it.

The letter was from my father.

“Son,

If you’re reading this, then I wasn’t able to tell you the truth myself.

There was a woman named Evelyn Hart.

I ruined her family’s life.

I convinced myself I was protecting you, but I was protecting my own reputation.

Her husband died because of a decision I made.

Their daughter will come looking for the truth one day.

When she does, don’t believe anyone who tells you she came for revenge.

She came because I took something from her.

And I took it from you too.

Forgive me if you can.”

I read the letter twice.

Then a third time.

Evelyn Hart.

The name sounded familiar.

I searched my phone.

Nothing.

Then I remembered the photograph.

The woman at my wedding.

I searched the internet.

And found an old newspaper article.

“LOCAL BUSINESSMAN DIES AFTER FINANCIAL COLLAPSE.”

The businessman was Marcus Hart.

Cause of death: suicide.

His wife, Evelyn Hart, disappeared from public life shortly afterward.

Their daughter was listed as Claire Hart.

My wife’s maiden name.

I sat down.

Claire had never told me her father died that way.

She had told me he suffered a heart attack.

A lie.

A carefully chosen lie.

Then my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I answered.

“Daniel?”

“Who is this?”

“Adrian.”

My body went still.

“How did you get my number?”

“I need to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Because Claire isn’t the person you think she is.”

I gripped the phone.

“Tell me now.”

“I can’t.”

“Then don’t call me again.”

“Your wife didn’t marry you for your money.”

I waited.

“She married you because of your father.”

The call ended.

I stared at the screen.

For years, I had thought Claire’s love had saved me.

Now I wondered whether I had simply become the final piece in a revenge plan.