Chapter 9: The Second Adoption
Catherine placed the document on the table.
It was a hospital record.
The paper had yellowed with age, and the ink had faded in several places.
But the names were clear.
*CATHERINE MOORE — PATIENT.*
*CHILD: FEMALE.*
*DATE: NOVEMBER 14.*
Beneath the medical details was another name.
Margaret Bennett.
I stared at it.
“Why is Mom listed as the attending guardian?””
Catherine sat down.
“Because she was there when you were born.””
I frowned.
“You said you were my biological mother.””
“I am.””
“Then what is this?””
She took a shaky breath.
“Your birth was complicated.””
I felt a chill.
“What do you mean?””
“Peter wanted to control your legal identity. He had already arranged for a birth certificate to be issued under a different name.””
“Why?””
“So he could claim you as his legitimate heir without revealing my identity.””
I looked at the record again.
“But this says I was born at St. Catherine's.””
“Yes.””
“Dad said that hospital didn't exist when I was born.””
Catherine gave a sad smile.
“It existed. It was a private maternity clinic. It closed years later.””
I looked down.
Another contradiction.
Another lie.
“Why did Richard say it was never open?””
“Because he wanted you to believe the records were fabricated.””
I rubbed my forehead.
“Why would he do that?””
Catherine reached for my hand.
“Because Richard didn't want you discovering that Peter had another child.””
“Charles?””
She nodded.
“Charles was Peter's firstborn son. But there was another child.””
I looked at her.
“What child?””
Catherine hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“You had a twin.””
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“No. That's impossible.””
Catherine opened the wooden box and removed a second hospital photograph.
Two newborn babies lay side by side.
One wore a white blanket.
The other wore a pale blue one.
A handwritten label identified them.
*Baby A — Eleanor Catherine Moore.*
*Baby B — Elizabeth Moore.*
I couldn't breathe.
“Where is she?””
Catherine's eyes filled.
“I don't know.””
I sat down slowly.
“Are you telling me I have a twin sister?””
“Yes.””
“Did Mom know?””
“Margaret knew.””
“Did my father know?””
“Richard knew.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone knew except me.””
Catherine didn't defend herself.
“Peter took Elizabeth.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
“He believed the twins would give him a stronger claim over the family estate. He planned to raise one child under his name and allow Margaret to raise the other.””
I felt sick.
“Then what happened?””
“Margaret found out. She arranged for both of you to be moved. But Peter discovered the plan.””
Catherine's voice broke.
“He arrived before the transfer was completed. He took Elizabeth. Margaret managed to get you out.””
I looked at the photograph.
Two babies.
Two lives.
One hidden in the Bennett family.
The other somewhere in the world.
“Why didn't you report it?””
“I tried. Peter had influence, money, and friends in places I couldn't reach. By the time I understood what he had done, the records had been altered.””
I stood and walked to the window.
The black SUV was gone.
But I no longer cared.
I had a sister.
Somewhere.
And my entire family had allowed me to grow up believing I was an only child.
“Do you know where she is now?””
Catherine shook her head.
“I received one letter years ago. It was from a woman claiming to be her.””
“When?””
“Four years ago.””
“What did it say?””
Catherine returned to the box and removed a folded envelope.
The handwriting was neat and unfamiliar.
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
Mother,
I know who you are. I know about Eleanor. I know what Peter did.
But I don't want to be found.
If Eleanor ever learns the truth, tell her that I am alive. Tell her that I remember the photograph of the two of us.
And tell her that if she ever wants to understand why Peter took me, she should look at the company records from the year we were born.
There is something in those records that belongs to both of us.
The letter was unsigned.
I read it again.
“Where did she send it from?””
Catherine pointed to the return address.
London.
I immediately thought of Victoria Bennett.
Charles's sister.
My father's niece.
My biological father's legitimate daughter.
The woman who had lived in London for years.
“Do you know Victoria?””
Catherine nodded.
“She visited me once.””
“When?””
“About six months ago.””
My heart began pounding.
“Why?””
“She said she wanted to know whether I had told you the truth.””
“What did you say?””
“I told her I hadn't.””
I stared at Catherine.
“Why would she visit you?””
“Because she believed Peter had left something in the company records that could expose the real reason he took Elizabeth.””
I looked at the letter.
Then at the adoption papers.
Then at the photograph of the twins.
My phone vibrated.
A new email had arrived from Daniel.
*SUBJECT: ARCHIVED BENNETT HOLDINGS RECORDS — URGENT*
I opened it.
The attached spreadsheet contained a list of historical corporate transfers from the year of my birth.
Most of the entries were ordinary.
But one caught my eye.
A transfer of 28 percent of voting shares.
The recipient was listed as:
*ELIZABETH MOORE TRUST.*
The date was November 15.
One day after my birth.
I looked at Catherine.
“Who established this trust?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
I scrolled down.
A second transfer appeared.
Another 28 percent.
This one had been placed into the Eleanor Catherine Moore Trust.
My trust.
I looked at the figures.
Fifty-six percent of the company's voting shares had been divided between two newborn girls.
Two daughters of Peter Bennett.
Two children whose existence had been hidden from the company.
And someone had spent thirty-two years trying to keep those shares from being reunited.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
“Eleanor, where are you?””
“With Catherine.””
“Listen carefully. We found something in the old shareholder registry.””
“What?””
“Your twenty-eight percent isn't the only inheritance Peter arranged.””
“I know. Elizabeth has another twenty-eight percent.””
There was silence.
Then Daniel said:
“How do you know that?””
“I have the records.””
“Eleanor, that's not the problem.””
I straightened.
“What is?””
“The Elizabeth Moore Trust was dissolved six years ago.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who received the shares?””
“That's what we're trying to establish.””
“Daniel, find out.””
“I already did.””
His voice dropped.
“The shares were transferred to Northbridge Capital.””
I stared at the spreadsheet.
Northbridge.
Grant's investment group.
The same company Charles had financed.
The same company attempting to obtain my inheritance.
“Who authorized the transfer?””
Daniel hesitated.
Then he said:
“Your father.””
I closed my eyes.
“No.””
“There's more.””
“What?””
“The transfer wasn't made to Northbridge directly. It was authorized by someone acting as the trustee of Elizabeth's estate.””
“Who?””
Daniel's answer came slowly.
“Victoria Bennett.””
I looked at Catherine.
She had gone completely still.
“Victoria is in London,” I whispered.
Daniel continued.
“And Eleanor?””
“Yes?””
“We just received confirmation that she's flying to New York tonight.””
I swallowed.
“Why?””
Daniel's voice became almost inaudible.
“Because she's requested an emergency meeting with the board.””
The call ended.
I stared at Catherine.
She looked terrified.
“Eleanor,” she whispered, “you must not let Victoria enter that boardroom.””
“Why?””
Catherine gripped my wrist.
“Because Victoria isn't your half-sister.””
I froze.
“What?””
Catherine's eyes filled with tears.
“She's your twin sister.””
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
Then my phone buzzed again.
An incoming message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of a woman stepping out of a private jet.
She had my face.
My eyes.
My scar.
May you like
And beneath the image was a single sentence.
*I've waited thirty-two years to meet you, Eleanor. But I didn't come to make peace.*
