Mack Daddy(72)

A thorough investigation into your birth records and family history has uncovered a troubling finding regarding the identity of your father.

You are the only child of Frederick Higgins, an inmate currently serving a life sentence for extortion, narcotics, illegal gambling, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. He was a member of Philadelphia’s Irish mob. Your mother, Karen O’Hara, fled Philadelphia shortly after you were born. Included in this package is a copy of your birth certificate with Frederick Higgins named as the father. Also included are numerous press articles in regards to his trial and subsequent conviction.

This information is troubling to me on many levels, namely the fact that if your identity ever becomes known publicly, there is a very serious chance that you could be in danger. This in turn would put my family in danger so long as you are associating with Mackenzie.

While Senator Morrison has no intention of bringing this news to light, he cannot control what information his political rivals may uncover. It didn’t take much for us to dig up this information, which disturbing as it may be, is par for the course in this day and age. It therefore wouldn’t take long for someone else to uncover it, as well. When that happens, it will not only put your life in danger, but the lives of my loved ones, including my son. And I cannot stand for that.

Mackenzie has known about the identity of your father for several days now. I’m sure he, too, is weighing what this means for his relationship with you in the long-term. I trust he will eventually draw the right conclusion, one that will be in the best interest of his child.

Do what you may with this information. But if you care for Mackenzie or care at all for my son, I hope you make the right decision.



Sincerely,



Torrie Hightower



My head was throbbing so hard, and my vision felt blurry. I could barely make out the sound of Victor’s voice.

He sounded muffled, as if he were talking through a cup even though he was right in front of me. “Francesca, what’s wrong?”

My hands were shaking as I handed him the letter.

After reading it and sifting through the articles, he pulled me into his arms and held onto me tightly.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I can’t breathe,” I said, practically wheezing.

“Try. Try to breathe. We’re gonna handle this. We’ll confirm whether it’s true. And if it is, we will deal with it.”

Too afraid to see my supposed father’s face, I hadn’t even been able to look at the newspaper clippings.

“First step…we need to get your mother over here. Only she can confirm what’s true and what’s not.”

“I can’t face her right now.”

“You have to, Francesca. Will you be able to sleep tonight if you don’t?

Letting out a long, shaky breath, I said, “Probably not.”

“I’m going to call her. Okay? Can I do that? I won’t divulge the reason…just that we need her to come by, to discuss something with her.”

Hanging onto a chair for balance, I nodded. “Yes.”

Victor retreated to the den to call my mother. I couldn’t fathom the possibility that the person I had trusted most in this world had lied to me all these years. This news was just devastating on so many different levels.

After Victor returned to the kitchen, he came up behind me and massaged my shoulders slowly. “Take a deep breath. I’m gonna make you some tea. I want you to drink it down and try to clear your mind until she gets here.”

Vic went over to the stove to boil water and prepared two steaming mugs.

He then sat with me as we drank the tea in silence while he rubbed my back.

“If you can’t speak, I’ll do the talking for you, okay?” he said, reaching over and taking my hand in his.

It was the first time tears started to fill my eyes. The fact that after everything I’d done, Victor was so comforting to me touched me beyond words. I didn’t know what I would have done if I were alone when that envelope arrived. His being there for me was like being thrown a life raft after getting suddenly tossed overboard.

When the doorbell rang, I jumped. Victor placed his hand on my shoulder. “You stay here. I’ll let her in.”

My mother’s dark hair looked windblown, and her nose was red from the cold. She was wearing her typical bright, neon pink lipstick. I knew she had no clue why we’d called her here. She was probably even more confused by the fact that Victor was involved when we were supposedly broken up.

“What’s going on? Why have you been crying?” She approached me. “Are you pregnant?”

“Please sit, Karen,” Victor said.

He handed my mother the envelope, the contents of which said it all.