Chapter 2 - THE BABY WHO DIDN’T DIE
Margaret sat down without being asked.
For the first time since attacking me, she looked frightened.
Not angry.
Frightened.
I picked up the old photograph from the wall.
The image matched the one in my father’s box exactly except for the missing right side.
In my cropped copy, Margaret had been cut out.
Only Evelyn and the baby remained.
“Who is Evelyn?” I asked.
Margaret looked at me like the question hurt.
“My mother.”
“And the baby?”
She did not answer.
Richard did.
“Margaret’s daughter.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“You knew?”
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“Yes.”
Margaret turned on him.
“You said she died.”
“I said that’s what your mother told everyone.”
“My mother told me she died in the hospital.”
Richard looked toward me.
“Emma was adopted two states away three weeks later.”
My whole body felt detached from the room.
I was thirty years old when my adoptive father gave me the box.
He told me he and my mother had always intended to explain more, but my mother became ill and he lost courage.
The box contained:
the cropped photograph,
a hospital bracelet with the name EMILY,
a notarized adoption summary,
and one letter saying my birth family had requested no contact.
No names.
No explanation.
Until now.
Margaret stood.
“You’re lying.”
Richard looked exhausted.
“I wish I were.”
She crossed the room and grabbed the photograph.
“You knew I had a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty-four years.”
The answer hit her harder than Daniel’s slap.
She backed into a chair.
“Why?”
Richard glanced at Daniel.
Then me.
“This is not the place.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“She attacked my wife in this place.”
Richard nodded.
Fair.
Then I asked:
“Why did you call me here?”
Richard looked at the envelope on the floor.
“Your father’s property file.”
“My adoptive father?”
“Yes.”
“What does he have to do with you?”
“He worked for my company.”
That was new.
My adoptive father, Thomas Reed, had been an accountant.
Quiet.
Careful.
He never mentioned Richard.
Richard continued.
“Thomas handled a private trust account for Evelyn before he adopted you.”
My skin went cold.
“Evelyn arranged my adoption?”
“Yes.”
Margaret stood again.
“My mother stole my child?”
Richard looked at her.
“She believed she was protecting you.”
“From what?”
He did not answer.
Margaret’s rage returned.
“From what?”
Richard finally said:
“From me.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
Margaret stared harder.
Richard sat down.
“When you were nineteen, we were together.”
Margaret whispered:
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You told me you were already married.”
“I was separated.”
“You were thirty-two.”
Daniel muttered something under his breath.
Richard continued.
“Evelyn hated me. When you became pregnant, she told me the baby was not mine.”
Margaret shook her head.
“She told me the baby died.”
“She told me you didn’t want me involved.”
Two lies.
One mother.
Two people separated.
Then Richard said:
“Years later, Thomas contacted me.”
“Why?”
“Because Evelyn had created a trust for you.”
“For me?”
He looked at me.
“For her granddaughter.”
Daniel asked:
“How much?”
Richard’s eyes moved toward me.
“Originally? About four hundred thousand.”
Margaret stared.
“Originally?”
Richard nodded.
“Today it is worth more than three million.”
My stomach dropped.
May you like
Then he said:
“And someone tried to move it last month using Emma’s identity.”
