Chapter 6: The Name on the Missing Record
My father gripped the edge of the table.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I can't do this.””
“You've already done it,” Marcus replied.
“You knew about the second baby. You knew about Naomi. You knew about the letter. And you let me spend sixteen years believing there was nothing left to ask.””
“I didn't know where she was!””
“Then why didn't you tell me she existed?””
Vanessa looked at him with a mixture of anger and desperation.
“Because I thought the truth would destroy you.””
My father laughed bitterly.
“You don't get to decide what I can survive.””
The guests had stopped pretending to be busy. Some stood near the windows; others remained by the decorated tables. Nobody seemed willing to interrupt.
I barely noticed them.
My entire world had narrowed to one question.
“Where is Naomi?””
Angela sat down again, her shoulders shaking.
“I don't know.””
I stared at her.
“You said Mom spent years trying to find her.””
“She did.””
“Then what did she find?””
Angela looked at the hospital record in my hands.
“A name. A transfer number. And evidence that someone had changed the original paperwork.””
My father's face tightened.
“Changed it how?””
“The original record listed two girls born alive,” Angela explained.
“But the discharge documents I saw years later referred to only one child leaving the hospital.””
I looked down at the page.
Two birth times.
Two patient numbers.
One discharge entry.
The gap between those facts felt enormous.
“Who changed the paperwork?””
Angela shook her head.
“Denise never found out.””
Vanessa gave a strained laugh.
“That's not true.””
Every head turned toward her.
My father stepped closer.
“What do you know?””
Vanessa's fingers curled around the back of the chair.
“I know that hospital records were a mess back then. I know that people made mistakes. And I know Denise became obsessed with the idea that something had been taken from her.””
“Was something taken from her?”” I demanded.
Vanessa looked at me.
For a second, her expression softened.
“Yes,” she whispered.
My knees weakened.
“Then where is my sister?””
“I don't know.””
“You keep saying that!””
“Because it's the truth!””
“Then why are you afraid?””
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Angela rose from her chair.
“Because Naomi wasn't the only secret.””
My father closed his eyes.
“Angela.””
“No, Marcus. She needs to know what we've been avoiding.””
He turned toward her.
“You don't know what you're about to do.””
Angela's expression hardened.
“I know exactly what I'm doing.””
She reached into her handbag and removed a small, sealed plastic pouch. Inside was a narrow hospital identification band, yellowed with age.
She placed it beside the photographs.
I leaned forward.
The band was tiny.
Much smaller than the one I wore when I had broken my arm as a child.
There was a name written on it in faded blue ink.
Naomi Denise Carter.
Below the name was a hospital number.
I looked at Angela.
“Where did you get this?””
“Denise gave it to me.””
“Why did she have it?””
Angela took a shaky breath.
“Because she found it in a box of her belongings after she came home from the hospital.””
My father stared at the band.
“Denise told me both girls were accounted for.””
Angela turned to him.
“Did she?””
He didn't answer.
I looked between them.
“Dad, what does that mean?””
Marcus dragged a hand through his hair.
“When your mother gave birth, I wasn't in the delivery room. There were complications, and the doctors asked me to wait outside. Later, I was told that you were healthy and that your mother needed time to recover.””
“Was Naomi mentioned?””
He stared at the floor.
“I remember hearing a nurse say something about another baby. But I was exhausted, and your mother was in pain. When I asked, I was told there had been a clerical error.””
My mouth went dry.
“And you believed them?””
“I had no reason not to.””
“Until now?””
He nodded slowly.
I could see the guilt settling over him, heavy and unwelcome.
“I should have asked more questions.””
I wanted to be angry with him.
Part of me was.
But I could see the young father he must have been, standing outside a hospital room, terrified for his wife and newborn child. I could imagine him believing the people in white coats because he had no reason to think they were hiding something.
Then I looked at Vanessa.
She had known more.
She had watched me grow up with the empty space where my sister should have been.
And she had never told me.
“Why did Mom leave me that letter?”” I asked.
Angela looked at the cream envelope.
“Because she realized someone had begun asking questions again.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Did she suspect Vanessa?””
Angela hesitated.
“She suspected that someone close to the family knew more than they were saying.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“Denise was frightened. She was ill, and she believed people were following her. You cannot build a story around every fear she had.””
My father turned toward her.
“You knew she was looking for Naomi?””
Vanessa's eyes dropped.
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Years ago.””
“How many years?””
She pressed her lips together.
“Marcus, please.””
“Answer me!””
“Before Denise died!””
The words exploded through the room.
I felt a chill travel down my spine.
My mother had died after months of searching for a daughter she believed was missing.
And Vanessa had known.
I stepped closer to her.
“Did you help her?””
Vanessa stared at me.
“I tried.””
“How?””
“I made phone calls. I asked questions. I looked through documents.””
“Then what happened?””
Her eyes filled with tears again.
“Someone told me to stop.””
My father went very still.
“Who?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I never saw his face.””
“His?””
She covered her mouth.
Angela whispered, “Vanessa.””
But Vanessa continued, as though something inside her had finally broken.
“A man called the house. He knew where Maya went to school. He knew when Marcus left for work. He knew the names of people Denise had spoken to.””
My father's expression changed.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because he said that if I told anyone, the little girl would disappear again.””
I stared at her.
“The little girl?””
Vanessa looked at me.
“Naomi.””
A terrible silence settled over the room.
I reached for the hospital identification band, my fingers hovering above the plastic.
“Are you saying someone took my sister?””
“I don't know what happened to her,” Vanessa whispered.
“I only know that after those calls stopped, Denise stopped asking questions in public.””
My father gripped the table so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
“Why would someone threaten our family over a hospital record?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“Who made the calls?””
“I told you. I never saw him.””
“Did he give you a name?””
She looked away.
“Vanessa!””
“He said his name was Daniel.””
Angela suddenly gasped.
The sound was so sharp that everyone turned toward her.
My father stared at her.
“What?””
Angela backed away from the table.
“That's impossible.””
Vanessa's eyes widened.
“You know that name?””
Angela shook her head, but tears were already gathering in her eyes.
“No. No, I don't.””
“You just reacted!””
“I said I don't!””
My heart pounded.
“Who is Daniel?””
Angela looked at me, then at the photographs.
For a long moment, she seemed unable to speak.
Finally, she whispered, “Someone your mother believed was dead.””
My father went pale.
Vanessa sat down heavily.
I stared at Angela.
“Who was he?””
Before she could answer, my father's phone vibrated on the table.
The screen lit up.
An unknown number.
A message appeared.
Marcus picked it up with trembling fingers.
He read it once.
Then again.
His face changed so completely that I reached for his arm.
“Dad?””
He didn't respond.
“What does it say?””
He slowly turned the phone toward me.
The message contained only one sentence.
*STOP LOOKING FOR NAOMI, OR MAYA WILL BE NEXT.*
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Angela clutched the edge of the table.
Vanessa began to cry.
And somewhere beyond the bright celebration room, the front door opened.
A man's voice called from the hallway.
“Marcus? We need to talk.””
My father stared toward the doorway.
May you like
Then Angela whispered the words that made every person in the room freeze.
“That's Daniel.””
