Chapter 5: The Adoption Papers
The message remained on my screen.
I read it again.
Then I looked at Denise.
“Who signed the original adoption papers?””
She lowered herself onto the sofa.
“Michael, you have to understand something.””
“I've been understanding things for thirty years. I'm finished with half-truths.””
Richard reached for his briefcase.
“I should leave.””
“Sit down,” I ordered.
He stopped.
For once, my older brother didn't argue.
I dialed the number that had sent the messages.
It rang twice.
Then a woman answered.
“Michael Hayes?””
“Who is this?””
“My name is Patricia Wells. I was a nurse at St. Mary's Hospital.””
I glanced at Richard.
“Why are you contacting me?””
“Because I saw your daughter today.””
My stomach tightened.
“You saw Aaliyah?””
“No. I saw her photograph online. Someone shared a picture of her at the hospital charity event last month. I recognized the locket.””
Aaliyah had mentioned attending a charity fundraiser with Jordan.
Patricia continued.
“I've waited a long time for someone to ask about that necklace.””
“What happened thirty years ago?””
There was a pause.
“I can't explain everything over the phone. But I have documents.””
“Where are you?””
“I'm at a nursing home outside the city. I don't have much time, Mr. Hayes.””
“Why?””
“My memory isn't what it used to be. And there's someone who has been trying to stop me from talking.””
I looked at Richard.
“Who?””
Patricia lowered her voice.
“Your brother.””
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Richard stood abruptly.
“This is ridiculous.””
I turned toward him.
“You know Patricia Wells?””
“I know hundreds of people.””
“She says you've been trying to silence her.””
Richard grabbed his briefcase.
“Michael, you're letting a stranger manipulate you.””
“Sit down!””
He stopped at the door.
For a moment, I thought he might leave anyway.
Then he turned around.
“Fine. Go see her. But don't pretend you won't regret it.””
I stepped closer.
“Is that a threat?””
“It's a warning.””
He left.
The front door slammed.
Denise sat motionless.
I looked at her.
“Did you know Patricia?””
She nodded.
“She was the nurse who cared for Aaliyah.””
“And?””
Denise swallowed.
“She was also the person who helped me bring Jordan home.””
I felt something break inside me.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of Richard?””
She shook her head.
“Of what your father had done.””
I sat opposite her.
“Start from the beginning.””
Denise stared at her hands.
“Your father was a powerful man, Michael. He owned half the businesses in this town. People respected him.
Hospitals accepted his donations. Politicians returned his calls.””
“What does that have to do with Jordan?””
“When Camille gave birth, your father arranged everything. He wanted the child to disappear from the scandal surrounding Richard and Camille.””
I looked at her.
“And you agreed to raise him?””
“I was already struggling to have children. Your father offered me a chance to become a mother.””
I remembered the years Denise had spent visiting specialists before Jordan came into our lives.
She had told me that she couldn't have children.
I'd comforted her.
I'd promised her that we could build a family in other ways.
And then Jordan had appeared.
“Did you know he was Richard's biological son?””
Denise nodded.
“From the beginning.””
“Did Richard visit him?””
“Sometimes. Your father told him to stay away, but he couldn't.””
My chest tightened.
“So my brother was watching the son he gave away grow up in my house.””
Denise started crying.
“I loved Jordan. I still do.””
“Then why did you let me believe he was mine?””
“Because I thought you would love him less if you knew.””
I stood.
“You have no idea how insulting that is.””
Denise reached for my hand.
“Michael—”
I pulled away.
“I would have loved him exactly the same.””
She began sobbing.
“I know that now.””
I looked toward the door.
“I'm going to see Patricia.””
Denise stood.
“I'm coming with you.””
“No.””
“Michael, she knows things about me, too.””
I studied her.
For the first time, I wondered whether my wife was afraid of the truth or afraid of what the truth would cost her.
“Then tell me what she knows.””
Denise's lips parted.
But she said nothing.
The nursing home smelled of disinfectant and boiled vegetables.
Patricia Wells was waiting in a small room overlooking the parking lot.
She was in her late seventies, with silver hair and thin hands resting on a blanket.
When I entered, she looked at me for a long time.
“You look like your father.””
“I've heard that before.””
She smiled sadly.
“Your father was a complicated man.””
I sat beside her.
“Did you know Evelyn?””
Patricia nodded.
“I delivered her first baby.””
“And Aaliyah?””
“I was there for that birth, too.””
I leaned forward.
“Who signed the adoption papers?””
Patricia looked toward the door.
“Denise Carter.””
I closed my eyes.
“Why?””
“Because Evelyn was unconscious when the paperwork was processed. Denise told us she was the baby's aunt. She claimed Evelyn had given her permission.””
“Was that true?””
Patricia shook her head.
“No.””
My stomach tightened.
“Then why did you allow it?””
“Because Richard Hayes brought a document signed by your father. It gave him temporary authority over the infant's placement.””
“Where is that document?””
Patricia opened the drawer beside her bed.
She removed a thin folder.
Inside were copies of medical records, a hospital discharge form, and an adoption consent document.
I recognized Denise's signature.
But there was something else.
A second signature.
Michael Hayes.
My own.
I stared at it.
“That isn't my handwriting.””
“I know,” Patricia said.
I looked at her.
“You knew?””
“I told your father it was wrong. He said it didn't matter.””
“Who signed it?””
She hesitated.
“Richard.””
My hands began shaking.
“He forged my signature?””
Patricia nodded.
“Your father instructed him to do it.””
I leaned back.
For thirty years, I had lived believing I had simply lost a wife.
Now I was learning that my father and brother had stolen my son, hidden my daughter, and forged my name to make it legal.
But Patricia wasn't finished.
She pulled out another document.
“This is the record you need to see.””
It was a hospital birth register.
Two babies had been born within hours of each other.
One was listed under Camille's name.
The other under Evelyn's.
But the second entry had been crossed out.
A handwritten note appeared beside it.
Transferred to private family placement.
I pointed at the line.
“Who was transferred?””
Patricia looked at me.
“Camille's baby.””
“Jordan.””
“Yes.””
I turned the page.
There was another notation.
Evelyn's infant released to biological mother after administrative review.
I frowned.
“Then Aaliyah was never abandoned?””
Patricia shook her head.
“Not exactly.””
“What do you mean?””
“Evelyn came back the next morning. She demanded her baby. She was told the child had already been taken by an authorized family representative.””
“Who?””
“Your father.””
I stared at the document.
“He took Aaliyah?””
Patricia nodded.
“He took both babies, Mr. Hayes.””
I felt sick.
“What happened to Aaliyah?””
“Your father arranged for her to be placed with Evelyn's cousin, who later adopted her.””
I frowned.
“Her cousin?””
“Evelyn had family in another state. She fought for months to get her daughter back. Eventually, your father allowed it.””
I looked at Patricia.
“Why?””
“Because Evelyn threatened to expose the entire arrangement.””
My voice dropped.
“Was Aaliyah my daughter?””
Patricia nodded.
“According to the original blood tests, yes.””
I couldn't breathe.
Then I noticed something at the bottom of the folder.
A small laboratory report.
Two names.
Richard Hayes.
Michael Hayes.
I read the result twice.
The report stated that Richard was the biological father of Camille's baby.
But the second test concerned Evelyn's child.
And the result was unmistakable.
I was Aaliyah's biological father.
I looked at Patricia.
“Why did you keep this?””
She took my hand.
“Because I promised Evelyn I would give it to you if she couldn't.””
I swallowed.
“What did Evelyn tell you?””
Patricia's eyes filled with tears.
“She said she forgave everyone except the person who stole her first child.””
“Who was that?””
Patricia leaned closer.
“Your father didn't just arrange the adoption, Michael.””
She paused.
“He gave that baby to someone in your family.””
My phone rang.
Denise.
I answered immediately.
“I'm with Patricia. What happened?””
Her voice was shaking.
“Michael, you need to come home.””
“Why?””
“Jordan found something in the attic.””
“What?””
Denise began crying.
“An old photograph of a baby.””
“And?””
Her next words made my blood run cold.
“It's a photograph of Richard holding a newborn child.””
I looked at Patricia.
She had gone completely still.
May you like
Then she whispered:
“That's impossible. Richard wasn't allowed to keep that baby.””
