Chapter 13: The Face in My Memory
"Who got into my mother's car?""
I repeated the question three times before the nurse answered.
Dr. Helen Morris remained silent for several seconds. I could hear traffic in the background and the faint sound of a television playing somewhere nearby.
Then she spoke.
"Your mother's sister.""
I stopped breathing.
"My mother didn't have a sister.""
"She did, Nia. Her name was Rebecca.""
I looked at my father.
He had gone completely still.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
"My mother was an only child.""
"That's what she wanted people to believe.""
Dr. Morris continued.
"Rebecca and your mother had a difficult relationship. They hadn't spoken in years. But Rebecca arrived at the hospital shortly after the accident. She claimed to be your mother's closest relative.""
My father grabbed the phone.
"That's not true. Rebecca was never supposed to be anywhere near that car.""
The nurse sounded startled.
"Thomas?""
"Yes. It's Thomas Carter.""
A long silence followed.
Then Dr. Morris said something unexpected.
"I've been waiting twenty years for someone from your family to call me.""
My father closed his eyes.
"What did Rebecca do?""
"I don't know everything. I was a junior nurse at the time. But I remember a woman arriving with a little girl. The child was frightened and kept asking for her mother.""
I felt my throat tighten.
"That was me?""
"Yes.""
"What happened?""
"The woman told us you had suffered a head injury. She insisted that you shouldn't be questioned about the accident.""
My father interrupted.
"Did she have any authority to make that decision?""
"No. But she presented guardianship paperwork. At the time, nobody questioned it.""
James took the phone from my father and switched on the speaker.
"Dr. Morris, did you document the woman's identity?""
"I did.""
"Do you still have the records?""
"I kept a copy.""
I looked at James.
"Where?""
The nurse hesitated.
"At my home. I never trusted the official report. The original was altered after I submitted it.""
My father leaned closer.
"Who altered it?""
"I don't know. But I remember seeing Eleanor Whitmore in the hospital administration office that night.""
The words landed heavily.
Eleanor had been the person who took me away.
The woman who had been appointed my guardian.
The woman my mother trusted.
And apparently, the woman who had helped conceal what happened.
"Dr. Morris," I said, "I need to meet you.""
"I was hoping you would say that.""
She gave us an address in Cambridge.
Before ending the call, she added one more thing.
"There's something else, Nia. Your mother was conscious when she arrived at the hospital.""
My heart stopped.
"What?""
"She was brought in separately from your father. I remember her asking about you.""
My father covered his mouth.
"What did she say?""
The nurse's voice softened.
"She said, 'Don't let Rebecca take my daughter.''"
I felt tears fill my eyes.
"Did she survive?""
Dr. Morris paused.
"She was alive when they took her into surgery.""
I gripped the edge of the stone.
"Then why did everyone say she died at the accident scene?""
"Because that was what the official report stated. But I remember seeing her alive.""
My father looked as though the ground had disappeared beneath him.
"Who signed the death certificate?""
"I don't know. But I can tell you the name of the doctor who was in charge.""
She gave us a name.
Dr. Alan Pierce.
James immediately wrote it down.
Then the call ended.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Finally, Olivia whispered, "Your mother might not have died when they said she did.""
My father stared at the ocean.
"She was alive.""
His voice broke.
"I could have seen her.""
I stepped toward him.
"Dad.""
He shook his head.
"I spent twenty years believing I had left her in that car. I thought I had failed her.""
He wiped his face.
"But she was alive, Nia. She was waiting for me.""
I held his arm.
We drove to Cambridge immediately.
Dr. Morris lived in a modest brick townhouse with flowerpots along the front steps. She opened the door before we knocked.
She was in her late sixties, with short gray hair and a silver necklace resting against her collar.
When she saw me, her eyes filled.
"You have your mother's eyes.""
I couldn't answer.
She invited us inside.
Her living room was crowded with books, framed photographs, and old medical journals. She disappeared into a hallway and returned carrying a cardboard box.
"I kept this because I couldn't forget that little girl.""
Inside were copies of hospital records, handwritten nursing notes, and a photograph.
The photograph showed my mother on a hospital bed.
Her face was pale, but her eyes were open.
I touched the image.
"She's alive.""
Dr. Morris nodded.
"For several hours.""
My father sat down heavily.
"What happened?""
"The surgery was successful. Your wife was stable afterward. She asked to see her daughter.""
I looked at the nurse.
"Did she get to see me?""
Dr. Morris lowered her eyes.
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because Eleanor said you had been transferred to another facility.""
My father stood.
"She lied.""
"Yes.""
Dr. Morris handed him another document.
It was an order transferring my mother to a private medical facility.
The signature belonged to Dr. Alan Pierce.
But the authorization had been requested by someone else.
Rebecca Carter.
I looked at the name.
"Where is she now?""
Dr. Morris took a deep breath.
"She's alive.""
James leaned forward.
"Do you know where?""
The nurse nodded.
"She has been working under another name for years.""
"Why?""
Dr. Morris looked directly at me.
"Because she was never your mother's sister.""
The room went silent.
"What?""
"Rebecca was your mother's half-sister. They shared a father. But there was something else your mother discovered.""
Dr. Morris removed a final photograph from the box.
It showed Rebecca standing beside a younger Edward Whitmore.
They were holding hands.
My stomach twisted.
"She was involved with Edward?""
The nurse nodded.
"Before he married Vanessa.""
I stared at the photograph.
"Then why did she help him?""
Dr. Morris's answer was quiet.
"Because she believed your mother had stolen the life that should have belonged to her.""
My father looked at the photograph.
"That's impossible. Rebecca was never mentioned in the company investigation.""
"Because she wasn't working for the company," Dr. Morris replied.
She turned another page.
"She was working with the hospital administration.""
James examined the document.
Then he looked up.
"There's a payment here.""
I leaned closer.
A transfer had been made to a private medical account two days after my mother's death.
The recipient was a company registered under Rebecca's assumed name.
The amount was $750,000.
I stared at the figure.
"Who paid her?""
James traced the account number.
Then his expression changed.
"Edward Whitmore.""
My father slowly stood.
"Then Rebecca was the person who took your mother out of the hospital.""
Dr. Morris nodded.
"Yes.""
I felt sick.
"Where did she take her?""
The nurse looked at me.
"I don't know.""
She paused.
"But I remember something your mother said before they moved her.""
"What?""
Dr. Morris opened a small notebook.
She read from a handwritten entry dated twenty years earlier.
"Patient repeatedly requests that daughter be taken to safety. States that Rebecca knows where the second child is hidden.""
I looked up.
"Second child?""
Nobody moved.
My father took the notebook.
He read the sentence again.
Then he whispered:
"Your mother wasn't talking about a second child in the car.""
May you like
He looked at me.
"She was talking about your brother.""
