Chapter 4: The Girl Who Disappeared
“Maya!””
I ran through the upstairs hallway, checking every room.
The bathroom was empty.
The guest bedroom was empty.
The back door stood slightly open.
A cold draft moved the curtains.
I rushed downstairs.
“Where is she?”” I shouted.
Vanessa stood beside the kitchen island, her face white.
Eleanor had both hands pressed against her mouth.
“Where is my daughter?””
“I don't know,” Vanessa whispered.
I grabbed my phone and called the police.
While I gave the dispatcher our address, I noticed something on the kitchen counter.
Maya's pink hairbrush.
Beside it was a small silver bracelet she had worn since kindergarten.
She never took it off.
I picked it up.
There was a tiny engraving on the inside.
*M.R. — MAYA ROSE.*
My daughter hadn't simply wandered outside.
Someone had taken her.
The dispatcher instructed me to stay available and preserve anything that might help identify whoever had entered the house.
I walked toward the back door.
There were no broken locks.
No damaged windows.
Whoever had taken Maya hadn't needed to force their way inside.
They had been allowed in.
I turned toward Vanessa.
“Who has a key?””
She shook her head.
“Just us.””
“And my mother?””
Vanessa looked at Eleanor.
My mother lowered her eyes.
I stepped toward her.
“Who has a key to this house?””
Eleanor's voice trembled.
“Rachel.””
I stopped.
“Why would Rachel have a key?””
“She used to come here.””
“When?””
“Before Maya started school.””
I stared at her.
“You told me Rachel died.””
“I know.””
“You lied about her being dead. You lied about the babies. You lied about the adoption. What else?””
Eleanor started crying.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
She looked toward the open back door.
“From the people who took Lily.””
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered immediately.
“Where is my daughter?””
A man's voice responded.
“She's safe.””
“Who are you?””
“Someone who knows what your mother did.””
I gripped the phone.
“Put Maya on.””
There was a brief silence.
Then I heard a familiar voice.
“Daddy?””
My knees nearly gave way.
“Maya! Baby, are you okay?””
“I'm okay. Daddy, there's a man here. He says he knows Grandma.””
“Listen to me. Stay where you are. Don't be afraid.””
The man returned.
“You have twenty-four hours to stop contacting Rachel Bennett.””
“Where is my daughter?””
“She'll come home when this is over.””
“You touch her, and—”
“Mr. Hayes, your mother has already cost several people their families. Don't make the mistake of repeating her choices.””
The call ended.
I immediately called the police dispatcher again and reported the abduction and the threatening call.
Vanessa was sobbing.
Eleanor sat motionless.
I looked at both of them.
“One of you is going to tell me everything.””
My mother finally spoke.
“Eight years ago, Rachel worked at the private maternity clinic where Vanessa delivered.””
I turned toward her.
“Go on.””
“She wasn't just an employee. She was involved with someone who worked there.””
“Who?””
Eleanor hesitated.
“Dr. Samuel Whitmore.””
The name sounded familiar.
He had been the senior physician at the clinic.
My mother continued.
“Rachel discovered that the clinic had been arranging private adoptions without properly documenting the mothers' consent. She threatened to expose them.””
“And Lily?””
“She wanted both daughters back.””
“Who adopted Lily?””
Eleanor shook her head.
“I don't know.””
I stared at her.
“You signed the paperwork!””
“I was told the family was approved. I never met them.””
Vanessa suddenly spoke.
“That's not true.””
We both turned.
She wiped her cheeks.
“You met the father.””
Eleanor's eyes widened.
“Vanessa, don't.””
“You met him at the clinic. You said he was a businessman who could make the problem disappear.””
My mother slapped the counter.
“Be quiet!””
Vanessa flinched.
I stepped between them.
“Enough. Who was he?””
Vanessa looked directly at me.
“Your mother's brother.””
I froze.
“My uncle Daniel?””
She nodded.
Daniel Hayes had been dead for six years.
At least, that was what our family had always told me.
He had supposedly died in a boating accident off the coast of Maine.
I hadn't seen him since I was a teenager.
“Are you telling me Uncle Daniel adopted Lily?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“He arranged it.””
My mother began crying harder.
“He knew people. He said he could find a good family.””
I remembered the hidden cash.
The old phone.
The messages.
Then I remembered something else.
The black phone had received a message three weeks earlier.
Rachel had said she knew where Maya was.
Someone had photographed Maya outside school.
Someone had been watching our family.
I looked at my mother.
“Is Daniel really dead?””
Eleanor said nothing.
That silence was enough.
My phone vibrated again.
A message appeared from the unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
Maya was sitting in a room with pale yellow walls, holding a stuffed rabbit.
Her face was frightened, but she appeared unharmed.
Beneath the photograph was a sentence.
*ASK YOUR MOTHER WHY DANIEL NEVER LET THE TWINS BE TOGETHER.*
I showed it to Eleanor.
Her knees buckled.
“Because one of them wasn't supposed to survive,” she whispered.
I stared at her.
“What?””
Eleanor looked at me through her tears.
“Daniel needed a child to inherit something. He couldn't have children of his own. When he learned Rachel had twins, he decided one would be his.””
My phone slipped slightly in my hand.
“And the other?””
My mother looked at Vanessa.
“Vanessa was supposed to raise Maya. But Daniel wanted both girls eventually.””
“Why?””
Eleanor's voice broke.
“Because the twins were connected to a trust fund worth nearly twelve million dollars.””
I felt sick.
Maya wasn't kidnapped because of some old family disagreement.
She had been turned into the center of an eight-year financial scheme.
And whoever had her was still following instructions from a man I thought was buried at sea.
Then another message arrived.
*YOUR DAUGHTER IS NOT THE ONLY ONE WE HAVE.*
I read it twice.
A second photograph appeared.
A little girl with dark braids stood beside a man in a navy coat.
She looked almost exactly like Maya.
May you like
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten name.
*LILY.*
