Chapter 10: The Memory My Daughter Had Been Forced to Bury
I listened to my father's recording again.
Then a third time.
Each time, the same sentence seemed to grow louder.
Ask Maya what she remembers about the night her mother died.
I stood in Vanessa's bedroom, surrounded by documents proving that my wife had planned to take my daughter away from me.
But suddenly, none of those papers mattered as much as one question.
What had Maya witnessed?
She had been four years old when Sarah died.
Too young to remember much, I'd always believed.
I remembered that night clearly.
Sarah had been admitted to the hospital after suffering complications from her illness. Vanessa had called me at a construction site two hours away, telling me to come immediately.
When I arrived, Sarah was unconscious.
The doctor explained that her condition had deteriorated rapidly.
She died before sunrise.
Vanessa had been beside me when I received the news.
She held my hand.
She cried with me.
She even arranged Sarah's funeral.
For years, I'd remembered her as the woman who helped me survive the worst night of my life.
Now I wondered whether she'd been hiding something while I held her hand.
I went downstairs.
Maya was sitting on the sofa beside Rebecca, drawing pictures in a notebook.
Caleb was watching television with the volume turned low.
I approached my daughter.
"Sweetheart, can Daddy talk to you?""
She immediately closed her notebook.
"Did I do something wrong?""
My heart twisted.
"No, baby. You haven't done anything wrong.""
She moved closer.
I sat beside her.
"I want to ask you about Mommy.""
Maya's fingers tightened around her pencil.
"Which thing?""
"Do you remember the night Mommy went to the hospital?""
She looked down.
A long silence followed.
Then she nodded.
"A little.""
"Can you tell me what you remember?""
She glanced toward Rebecca.
My sister moved closer.
"You're safe, sweetheart.""
Maya began twisting the sleeve of her cardigan.
"Mommy was crying.""
I swallowed.
"Where were you?""
"In the kitchen.""
"At our old house?""
She nodded.
"Mrs. Vanessa was there.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What was she doing?""
Maya looked toward the hallway.
"She told me to stay quiet.""
"Why?""
"Because Mommy was sick.""
I gently held her hand.
"What happened next?""
Maya closed her eyes.
"I saw Mrs. Vanessa take Mommy's little white bottle from the kitchen counter.""
Rebecca looked at me.
I felt my heart begin pounding.
"What bottle, sweetheart?""
"The medicine bottle.""
Maya continued.
"Mommy told her not to touch it.""
My mouth went dry.
"What did Vanessa say?""
Maya's voice became smaller.
"She said Mommy was being difficult.""
I fought to keep my expression calm.
"Then what happened?""
Maya began crying.
"She put something inside the bottle.""
Rebecca covered her mouth.
I felt as though someone had punched me.
"What did she put inside?""
"I don't know.""
Maya shook her head.
"I was little. I couldn't see.""
I held her gently.
"Did you tell anyone?""
She nodded.
"I told Grandma Vanessa.""
I froze.
"Your grandmother?""
Maya shook her head.
"Mrs. Vanessa's mother.""
I remembered Vanessa's mother, Patricia.
She had visited us several times before Sarah died.
"What did she say?""
Maya wiped her cheeks.
"She told me not to tell Daddy because it would make him sad.""
I couldn't breathe.
Rebecca moved closer.
"Sweetheart, did anyone hurt you?""
Maya shook her head.
"Mrs. Vanessa just got angry.""
I hugged my daughter.
"Thank you for telling me.""
She buried her face against my chest.
"Am I in trouble?""
"No.""
"Promise?""
"I promise.""
I held her for a long time.
Then I looked at Rebecca.
"We need to call Detective Harris.""
Before I could reach for my phone, it rang.
The detective's name appeared on the screen.
I answered.
"Daniel Carter.""
"Mr. Carter, we've reviewed your father's recording.""
"I need to tell you something. Maya remembers seeing Vanessa tamper with Sarah's medication.""
There was a long pause.
"How old was Maya?""
"Four.""
"Did she describe exactly what she saw?""
I explained everything.
The detective became very quiet.
"Mr. Carter, don't question her any further. We'll arrange for a trained child interviewer. It's important that we preserve her account without putting pressure on her.""
"I understand.""
"We also found something at the medical facility.""
"What?""
"Mrs. Brooks had a storage device containing scanned prescriptions and medication records from Sarah's final months.""
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Are they authentic?""
"We're having them examined.""
"Who else has seen them?""
"Mr. Lawson, your father's former attorney, was there when officers arrived.""
"Where is he now?""
"He's being questioned.""
I looked at Maya.
"Detective, there's something else. My father said Maya witnessed something that night. Why would he know?""
"That's what we're trying to establish.""
I ended the call.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Rebecca noticed something on the coffee table.
It was Maya's old photograph album.
She had taken it from the living room cabinet.
One photograph showed Sarah holding Maya in the hospital.
Maya pointed to the woman standing behind them.
"That's Grandma Patricia.""
I leaned forward.
"Vanessa's mother?""
Maya nodded.
"She came to see Mommy.""
I examined the photograph.
Patricia was smiling, holding a bouquet of flowers.
Maya touched the picture.
"She told Mommy not to be scared.""
I looked at her.
"Do you remember anything else?""
Maya nodded slowly.
"Grandma Patricia gave Mommy a different bottle.""
Rebecca and I exchanged a glance.
"A different medicine bottle?""
Maya nodded.
"She said it was the one Mommy needed.""
My hands went cold.
The detective had mentioned medication records.
And now Maya was describing another person handling Sarah's prescriptions.
I called Detective Harris again.
"There's another person you need to investigate. Patricia, Vanessa's mother.""
He asked me to send the photograph.
I did.
Twenty minutes later, he called back.
"Mr. Carter, we have a problem.""
"What?""
"Patricia Carter is not the name listed on the medical visitor records.""
I frowned.
"She was Vanessa's mother.""
"According to the hospital's records, the woman who visited Sarah that night used a different identity.""
My stomach dropped.
"What identity?""
The detective paused.
"Her name was Patricia Lawson.""
I stared at the phone.
Richard Lawson.
The attorney.
My father's former attorney.
The same man who had witnessed the suspicious financial transfers.
I looked at Rebecca.
She whispered, "They're related.""
The detective continued.
"Mr. Carter, we've just discovered that Richard Lawson and Vanessa's mother have the same registered home address.""
I felt sick.
Then another message arrived.
It contained an old photograph taken outside the hospital.
Three people stood near the entrance.
Vanessa.
Richard Lawson.
And a woman I recognized as Patricia.
But there was something written on the back.
A date.
The night Sarah died.
May you like
And beneath it, in my father's handwriting:
They were all there.
