Chapter 10: The Daughter Who Was Never Mine

I read the hospital record until the words stopped making sense.

Two babies.

Eleven minutes apart.

One mother.

Two different fathers.

And a placement transfer that had apparently been hidden for twelve years.

I looked at Nia.

She was watching my face, waiting for me to explain something I didn't understand myself.

“Dad?”” she whispered.

I closed the document.

“Sweetheart, I need you to stay with Grandma for a little while.””

“Are you going somewhere?””

“Yes. But I'll be back.””

“Are you angry with me?””

The question nearly broke me.

I knelt in front of her.

“Never. Not for anything.””

She nodded, but her eyes remained frightened.

My mother reached across the bed and took Nia's hand.

“Go get some fresh air with Mrs. Peterson, sweetheart. Your dad and I need to talk.””

Nia kissed her grandmother's cheek before leaving.

As soon as the door closed, my mother looked at me.

“Daniel, I think I know what happened.””

I sat down.

“Tell me.””

She took a trembling breath.

“When Vanessa gave birth, there was another baby.””

“I can read the document, Mom.””

“I know. But I remember your father receiving a phone call from the hospital. He went there immediately.””

“Why?””

“He said there had been a complication.””

“What kind of complication?””

My mother looked down.

“He never explained.””

I stared at her.

“Did you know Vanessa had twins?””

“No.””

“Did Dad?””

She nodded slowly.

“I think he did.””

My chest tightened.

“Why would he hide that from us?””

My mother began crying.

“Because he believed someone had taken the other baby.””

I stood up.

“What?””

She reached for my hand.

“Thomas told me there was a second child. He said the hospital records had been changed. He promised he would explain everything when he had proof.””

“Mom, why didn't you tell me?””

“Because the next day, he was dead.””

I walked toward the window.

Outside, a nurse pushed a wheelchair past the entrance.

Somewhere in that hospital, a little girl had been born twelve years ago and disappeared into a private arrangement.

And my father had known.

I immediately contacted Detective Bennett.

She listened without interrupting as I explained the hospital record.

“Mr. Miller, don't contact anyone connected to the placement yet,” she said.

“We'll need to verify the original records and establish whether the transfer was legally authorized.””

“Can you find out where the second child went?””

“We'll make the appropriate inquiries. There are privacy and child-protection procedures involved.””

I sent her the document.

Then I called Mr. Whitmore.

He answered almost immediately.

“Daniel?””

“Did my father ever mention a second baby?””

There was a long silence.

“Yes.””

I gripped the phone.

“You knew?””

“Your father came to see me shortly after Nia was born. He said Vanessa had given birth to twins, but only one child had been registered under the family arrangement.””

“Why?””

“He suspected the second baby's placement had been arranged through Robert Ellis.””

I closed my eyes.

“Did he know where the baby went?””

“He believed Robert had taken responsibility for the child.””

“Responsibility?””

“He never gave me a complete explanation.””

I paced across the hospital corridor.

“Was the child Robert's?””

“I cannot confirm that.””

“Did my father investigate?””

“Yes. He hired a private investigator.””

“Where are those records?””

Mr. Whitmore hesitated.

“Your father instructed me to keep them sealed until the trust was challenged or his death was connected to the financial investigation.””

I felt my heart pounding.

“Then open them.””

“I will arrange for the documents to be reviewed with the authorities.””

Before ending the call, he said:

“Daniel, there is one more thing. Your father believed the second child was the key to understanding why Vanessa and Marcus were so desperate to control the property.””

I looked down at the hospital record.

The second child's name was not visible.

Only the transfer code.

And a handwritten note:

*Do not contact the biological family.*

At 4:40 p.m., Detective Bennett called again.

“Daniel, we've located a preliminary placement record.””

I stood immediately.

“Where is the child?””

“The records indicate that she was placed with a family in Massachusetts.””

“Do they know who her parents are?””

“The file identifies the receiving family, but we're still verifying the circumstances of the placement.””

“Can you give me their names?””

“Not until we've confirmed the legal status and spoken with the appropriate authorities.””

I understood.

But waiting felt unbearable.

Then she said:

“There's another issue. The placement was processed using a document signed by Vanessa Miller and witnessed by Robert Ellis.””

I closed my eyes.

“Did my mother authorize it?””

“Her name appears nowhere on the document.””

I felt anger rise.

“So Vanessa gave away a baby without telling my family?””

“We're investigating whether the placement was lawful and whether the paperwork was altered.””

I looked through the glass toward my mother's room.

“Please find that child.””

“We're working on it.””

At 6:15 p.m., Nia returned with Mrs. Peterson.

She ran toward me.

“Dad, Grandma wants to show you something.””

I followed her into the room.

My mother was holding an old photograph.

It showed two newborn babies lying side by side in hospital bassinets.

A handwritten date appeared on the back.

The date Nia was born.

My mother pointed to the baby on the right.

“That's Nia.””

Then she pointed to the other.

“And that's her sister.””

I sat down.

“Where did you get this?””

“Your father gave it to me.””

“When?””

“The week after the birth.””

I looked at the photograph.

Both babies had identical dark hair.

One wore a pink hospital cap.

The other wore white.

Mom touched the second baby's face.

“Your father told me he had made a promise to protect both children.””

“What promise?””

She shook her head.

“I don't know.””

Then she turned the photograph over.

There was another sentence beneath the date.

One day, the girls must know they were never abandoned by their father.

I stared at the handwriting.

My father had written it.

“Which father?”” I whispered.

Mom began crying.

Before she could answer, my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered.

A man's voice spoke.

“Daniel Miller?””

“Yes.””

“My name is Robert Ellis.””

My blood went cold.

“What do you want?””

“I think it's time you stopped looking for the second baby.””

“Why?””

“Because she's been looking for you.””

I gripped the phone.

“What are you talking about?””

Robert's voice dropped.

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“Your sister is alive, Daniel.””

Then he disconnected.