Chapter 8: My Signature on a Document I Never Signed
Detective Harris placed the transfer document inside a clear evidence sleeve.
"Nobody touches this," he said.
I couldn't stop staring at my signature.
It was almost perfect.
The capital L.
The unusual loop in the second letter of my surname.
Even the little mark I always made beneath the final z.
Someone had studied my handwriting.
Someone had practiced it.
And someone had used it to authorize the removal of a baby I hadn't even known was alive.
"How old was I when this was signed?"" I asked.
Detective Harris checked the date.
"Sixteen.""
I shook my head.
"I was in high school. I had never been to that hospital.""
"Do you remember signing anything connected to your mother's medical treatment?""
"No.""
My mother reached for my hand.
"She wouldn't have known what was happening. They used her name because they needed someone in the family to support the transfer.""
Detective Harris nodded.
"We'll investigate the signature. For now, we need to locate Sophie.""
He showed us the information Margaret had provided.
The Millers had received payments through a private account. The account had been funded by a company registered under a false business address.
The company was connected to Daniel.
But the final transaction had come from an account controlled by Marco.
My father.
I felt numb.
"He paid three hundred thousand dollars to make sure his own daughter disappeared?""
Detective Harris didn't answer immediately.
"That's what the records suggest.""
My mother covered her face.
"Why would he do that?""
I looked at her.
"Because he wanted to keep the inheritance.""
She shook her head.
"He could have protected the company without stealing our children.""
I wanted to tell her she was right.
But I was beginning to understand that my father had never been interested in protecting our family.
He had been protecting his position.
Detective Harris received a call.
He listened, asked several questions, and then looked at us.
"We have an address.""
My mother stood immediately.
"Where?""
"A private property outside Austin. The registered owner is Vivian Brooks.""
My stomach tightened.
"Is Sophie there?""
"We don't know.""
"Then let's go.""
The detective shook his head.
"Officers are already on their way. You need to wait here.""
My mother looked furious.
"She's my daughter.""
"And that's why I need you to stay safe.""
Twenty minutes passed.
Then thirty.
I paced the hallway while my mother sat with her hands clasped tightly together.
Finally, Detective Harris returned.
He wasn't alone.
A uniformed officer walked behind him carrying a small backpack.
Pink.
With a cartoon rabbit stitched onto the front.
My mother recognized it immediately.
"That's hers.""
The detective placed it on the chair.
"We found this inside the property.""
"Where is Sophie?""
He hesitated.
"She wasn't there.""
My mother began crying.
"What about Vivian?""
"She left before officers arrived.""
"And Daniel?""
"Also missing.""
I looked at the backpack.
"Was there anything inside?""
The officer nodded.
He opened the front pocket and removed a folded drawing.
It showed a little girl standing between two women.
One had long dark hair.
The other had shorter hair.
Above them, a child had written:
*MY REAL MOMMIES.*
My mother touched the paper.
A tear fell onto the drawing.
"She knows," she whispered.
Detective Harris looked at her.
"Knows what?""
"She knows something isn't right.""
I picked up the backpack.
There was a small label sewn inside.
SOPHIE M.
Not Brooks.
Not Alvarez.
Miller.
I turned it over.
A phone number was written on the back.
"Detective, can we call this?""
He examined it.
"It's probably Catherine Miller's number.""
He dialed.
The call rang four times.
A woman answered.
"Hello?""
"Mrs. Miller? This is Detective Harris with the Austin Police Department. We need to speak with you.""
There was a long silence.
Then she whispered:
"Did you find my daughter?""
My mother moved closer.
"Please. I just want to know she's safe.""
Catherine began crying.
"Elena?""
My mother froze.
"You know who I am?""
"Yes.""
"Then tell me where Sophie is.""
Catherine took a shaky breath.
"She's with me.""
My mother nearly collapsed.
"Where?""
"At my sister's house. I took her there after Vivian came to our home.""
"Why?""
"Because Vivian told me someone was going to take Sophie away.""
I looked at Detective Harris.
He put the call on speaker.
"Mrs. Miller," he said, "we need your location.""
Catherine gave him an address.
Then she added something that made the detective's expression change.
"There's something else you need to know.""
"What?"" he asked.
"Vivian told me Lena was dead.""
I felt my blood turn cold.
"What?""
Catherine began crying harder.
"She said the older daughter had died in an accident years ago. She told us there was no family left who could claim Sophie.""
My mother shook her head.
"That's impossible.""
Catherine continued.
"She said the mother had died, too. She showed us newspaper articles and official documents.""
I grabbed the table.
"She used my name to make people think I was dead?""
"Yes," Catherine whispered.
"Why?""
"I don't know. She said the family was dangerous.""
My mother looked at me.
For the first time, I understood the full scale of the deception.
They hadn't simply hidden Sophie.
They had manufactured an entire history in which no one could come looking for her.
A history in which I was dead.
A history in which my mother was dead.
And a history in which Daniel and Vivian were the only people entitled to decide what happened to her.
Detective Harris arranged for officers to meet us at Catherine's sister's house.
When we arrived, a woman opened the front door.
Behind her stood a little girl wearing pink pajamas.
She had dark brown hair, green eyes, and a small birthmark near her left eyebrow.
My mother stopped breathing.
"Sophie?""
The girl stared at her.
Then she looked at me.
"You're Lena?""
I nodded.
She studied my face.
Then she turned toward Catherine, who had arrived moments earlier.
"Mommy, is this the lady?""
Catherine knelt beside her.
"Yes, sweetheart.""
Sophie frowned.
"But you said my other mommy was dead.""
Catherine began crying.
"I know, baby.""
Sophie looked at my mother.
"Are you my other mommy?""
My mother dropped to her knees.
"Yes, sweetheart.""
Sophie didn't run into her arms.
She didn't smile.
She simply stood there, holding her stuffed rabbit.
Then she asked:
"Why didn't you come when I was a baby?""
My mother looked as though someone had reached inside her chest and broken her heart.
"I tried, sweetheart.""
"But why?""
"Because someone told me you were gone.""
Sophie looked down.
"Uncle Daniel said you didn't want me.""
My mother started crying.
"Oh, no.""
She opened her arms slowly.
"I wanted you every single day.""
Sophie hesitated.
Then she stepped forward.
She placed one tiny hand against my mother's cheek.
"Are you sad because you lost me?""
My mother nodded.
Sophie looked at her for another moment.
Then she whispered:
"I was sad because I thought nobody wanted me.""
My mother pulled her into a gentle embrace.
I turned away.
I couldn't watch without crying.
For a few minutes, the room was quiet.
Then Sophie lifted her head.
"Can Lena come too?""
I knelt beside them.
"Of course.""
She touched my cheek.
"Are you my sister?""
I smiled through my tears.
"Yes.""
She thought about that.
Then she asked:
"Will you come to my school?""
I nodded.
"Every time you want me to.""
She hugged me.
And for the first time in six years, our family had all its daughters in the same room.
But the moment didn't last.
Detective Harris received a call.
He stepped into the hallway.
When he returned, his expression was serious.
"We've located Daniel's vehicle.""
My mother tightened her arms around Sophie.
"Where?""
"At San Antonio International Airport.""
I frowned.
"Is he leaving?""
"His flight is scheduled to depart in forty minutes.""
The detective looked at his phone.
Then he added:
"There's one passenger traveling with him.""
"Who?"" I asked.
He turned the screen toward me.
A photograph appeared.
It was my father.
Marco Alvarez.
And beneath his photograph was a reservation confirmation.
One-way ticket.
May you like
Two passengers.
Destination: London.
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