“Ms. Harper, look! He has the same tattoo as my dad.”
The woman’s eyes dropped to Lucas’s arm.
And all the color drained from her face.
She tightened her grip on Mason immediately.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
Lucas stood.
“Please,” he said. “May I ask you something about his father? I think I might be able to help.”
She studied him—cautious, tired, the look of someone who had learned not to trust easily.
“Do you know someone with that tattoo?”
“My brother. He has the same one.”
She hesitated.
“What’s his name?”
“Ryan Reed.”
She exhaled slowly, as if she’d been holding her breath for years.
“Come inside,” she said. “We need to talk.”
The File That Changed Everything
The office inside the residence was simple and clean. Ms. Harper closed the door while Mason joined other children in the playroom.
“Mason has been with us for two years,” she began. “He was found alone near the downtown transit station. He kept repeating one name.”
Lucas already knew the answer.
“Ryan,” she said softly.
His stomach dropped.
“His mother?”
“She came days later. Exhausted. Pregnant again at the time. She said she needed time. She still calls once a month from different phones. Always asks if Mason is eating, growing. Never says where she is.”
Lucas ran a hand through his hair.
“And my brother?”
Ms. Harper opened a drawer and slid a folder across the desk.
“According to her, Ryan changed after an accident. Confused. Forgetful. Sometimes didn’t recognize people.”
Lucas felt the weight of regret crush his chest.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
She met his eyes.
“Because you and your brother stopped speaking. And pride, Officer Reed, often does more harm than people realize.”
She pulled out a worn photograph.
Ryan stood in it—thinner, older. A young woman beside him. A baby in her arms.
“That’s Elena,” she said. “And that’s Mason.”
Lucas’s hands shook.
“He’s my nephew.”
Searching for a Ghost
Lucas took leave from work.
He searched records. Hospitals. Old accident reports.
Until the truth surfaced.
Ryan had been hospitalized in San Diego three years earlier after a motorcycle accident.
A nurse remembered him clearly.
“He was unconscious for weeks,” she said. “When he woke up, he didn’t recognize anyone. A woman came every day. Pregnant. Crying.”
Elena.
Lucas drove back north, his mind racing.
When he returned to the residence, Mason ran into his arms.
“Ms. Harper says you knew my dad.”
“Yes,” Lucas said. “We were very close.”
“Then why doesn’t he come?”
Lucas knelt.
“I’m looking for him.”
Mason smiled.
“Good things take time,” he said. “But they come.”
Before Lucas left, Mason tugged his sleeve.
“When you find him, tell him I still remember our song.”
He sang it.
The lullaby Lucas and Ryan had made up as kids.
Even broken memory hadn’t erased that.
The Brother Who Didn’t Remember
The trail led to Santa Barbara.
A small blue house. A garden out front.
Lucas knocked.
A man opened the door.
“Ryan,” Lucas whispered.
The man frowned.
“Do I know you?”
“I’m Lucas. Your brother.”
Ryan stared at the tattoo.
SEE CONTINUES ON THE NEXT PAGE
