Chapter 8: My Sister's Version of the Truth
The police station smelled of wet coats, burnt coffee, and disinfectant.
Detective Morgan met us in a small interview room.
He was in his late forties, with tired eyes and a silver watch that looked older than he was.
He placed a folder on the table.
“Mr. Hayes, I understand this is an extremely difficult situation.””
I sat down.
Noah remained standing.
“Where is my sister?””
“She's in another room.””
“Bring her in.””
The detective studied me.
“Are you sure?””
“She's accused my son of killing my wife. I want to hear it from her mouth.””
Morgan nodded toward the door.
A moment later, Claire entered.
She looked nothing like the woman who had stood beside Elena's coffin.
Her hair was disheveled. Her eyes were swollen, and she wore the same coat she had worn at the cemetery.
She stopped when she saw Noah.
“You shouldn't have brought him.””
I stood.
“You don't get to decide who comes into this room.””
Claire lowered her head.
“Daniel, please.””
“Tell me why you accused my son.””
She sat down slowly.
Detective Morgan opened his folder.
“Your sister has provided a statement claiming that Noah argued with Elena shortly before her fatal fall.””
I turned toward Claire.
“Is that true?””
Claire nodded.
“He was angry.””
Noah stepped forward.
“That's a lie.””
“Sit down,” Morgan ordered.
Claire continued.
“He was shouting. Elena told him to leave. Then I arrived, and he was gone.””
I stared at her.
“You told me you arrived after the ambulance was called.””
Claire's eyes flickered.
“I was confused.””
“No. You were lying.””
She began crying.
“Daniel, you don't know what happened in that house.””
“Then tell me.””
Claire looked at Noah.
“He wanted money.””
Noah laughed in disbelief.
“What?””
“He was demanding money from your mother. He knew about the account. He knew about the inheritance.””
I felt a cold anger rise inside me.
“That's enough.””
Claire shook her head.
“I'm telling the truth!””
“You're accusing my son of murdering his mother to protect yourself.””
“I'm trying to protect you!””
I leaned across the table.
“From what?””
She didn't answer.
Detective Morgan placed a photograph in front of us.
It showed the kitchen.
A broken glass lay near the bottom of the stairs. A chair had been knocked over, and a small pool of dried blood was visible on the tiled floor.
“Mr. Hayes,” he said, “this photograph was taken during the initial investigation.””
I stared at it.
“Why are you showing me this?””
“Because we recovered fingerprints from the glass.””
He turned the photograph around.
“Your son's fingerprints were present.””
Noah's face tightened.
“I picked it up.””
Morgan looked at him.
“When?””
“After Mom fell. I tried to move it because there was blood near her head.””
“Did you touch the glass?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you tell the officers?””
“I was in shock!””
Claire shook her head.
“He's changing his story.””
Noah turned toward her.
“You know that's not what happened.””
Detective Morgan raised a hand.
“Enough.””
He removed another document from the folder.
“This is a preliminary medical report. Your wife's injuries were consistent with a fall down the stairs. However, the precise circumstances remain under investigation.””
I looked at him.
“Was there anything else?””
Morgan hesitated.
“Yes.””
He placed a small photograph on the table.
It showed a dark stain on the sleeve of a beige sweater.
I recognized it immediately.
Noah's sweater.
The one he had worn at the funeral.
“The laboratory identified traces of your wife's blood on this garment,” Morgan explained.
Noah stared at the photograph.
“I tried to help her.””
Claire whispered:
“Or you hurt her.””
Noah suddenly stood.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!””
The room went silent.
Morgan rose.
“Sit down.””
Noah's breathing became ragged.
“You were there! You took my phone! You told me to run!””
Claire looked at him.
“Because you were covered in blood!””
“Because I was holding my mother!””
I stepped between them.
“Detective, I want to know why my sister had access to my son's phone.””
Morgan looked at Claire.
She shook her head.
“I never took it.””
Noah laughed bitterly.
“Then explain how the recording disappeared.””
Morgan's expression changed.
“What recording?””
I reached into my coat and placed the storage unit recorder on the table.
“We found this among Elena's belongings.””
The detective examined it.
“Is there something on here related to the death?””
“Yes.””
He looked at Claire.
She had gone completely still.
I pressed play.
Elena's voice filled the room.
“Claire, please. You have to understand what Richard is doing.””
Claire's recorded voice answered.
“I understand perfectly.””
Elena continued.
“Then help me.””
Claire's laugh sounded crueler than I remembered.
“You should have helped me twenty years ago.””
Then Elena whispered:
“I didn't have a choice.””
The recording ended.
Detective Morgan looked up.
“What happened twenty years ago?””
Claire wiped her face.
“Nothing.””
I stared at her.
“You just told Elena she should have helped you. What did you mean?””
She shook her head.
“It's personal.””
“Not anymore.””
Morgan leaned forward.
“Mrs. Hayes, if this is relevant to the investigation, I need you to explain.””
Claire looked at me.
Then at Noah.
Finally, she whispered:
“Elena stole my baby.””
I felt as though someone had struck me.
“What?””
“Twenty years ago, I was pregnant. I was seventeen. Our parents didn't want anyone to know.””
I shook my head.
“You told me you never had children.””
“Because I didn't raise the baby.””
“Who did?””
Claire looked down.
“Elena.””
I couldn't move.
“She told everyone the baby had been stillborn,” Claire continued.
“But she gave the child away.””
I stared at her.
“Are you saying Madeline is your daughter?””
Claire nodded.
Madeline, who had been sitting quietly near the wall, suddenly stood.
“No.””
Claire looked at her.
“I'm sorry.””
“No. My birth certificate says Elena.””
“Because she raised the lie.””
Madeline's eyes filled with tears.
“You're telling me that Vanessa and Richard adopted me from Elena, but Elena wasn't even my birth mother?””
Claire nodded.
“She was my sister. She wanted to protect me.””
I looked at Claire.
“Then why did Elena keep saying she was Madeline's mother?””
“Because she raised her. Because she loved her. Because she couldn't bear to tell everyone what happened.””
Madeline shook her head.
“Why would you let me believe that Vanessa was my mother?””
Claire's voice broke.
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
Claire looked toward Detective Morgan.
“Of what Elena would tell you.””
I leaned forward.
“Tell me what?””
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she whispered:
“Daniel, twenty years ago, Elena didn't steal my baby.””
She took a shaky breath.
“She stole the baby from someone else.””
The detective stopped writing.
I felt my heart pound.
“Whose baby?””
Claire reached into her handbag and removed an old photograph.
It showed Elena holding a newborn.
But this time, the woman standing beside her wasn't Claire.
It was my mother.
The date on the back was twenty years earlier.
My mother had died nineteen years ago.
I looked at Claire.
“Why was my mother at that hospital?””
May you like
Claire's lips trembled.
“Because the baby was yours.””
