Chapter 13: The Baby in My Arms
“It was you.””
My mother's words seemed to drain the air from the room.
I stared at her.
“What?””
She held both my hands, her fingers trembling.
“You were holding the baby when the hospital doors closed.””
I stepped away.
“No. I was twelve. I couldn't have—”
“You were twelve, Daniel. You were old enough to understand that someone was crying. Old enough to remember being frightened. But you weren't old enough to understand what the adults were doing.””
Sarah looked between us.
“Mom, what baby?””
My mother glanced at the ledger.
“Grace.””
Elena covered her mouth.
I shook my head.
“Grace was born years before Lily disappeared.””
“Yes.””
“Then how was I holding her?””
My mother looked toward the broken filing cabinets.
“Because your father brought you to the hospital that night. He told you he was taking you to see a sick friend. But he had discovered that Margaret was moving another child through the building.””
“Why would he bring me?””
“He thought you were safer with him than at home. He didn't know Margaret had already found out about the investigation.””
I looked at the ledger again.
My signature.
The date.
The sentence about the boy never remembering what he saw.
A memory began pushing through the fog.
White hospital lights.
A woman screaming.
A tiny bundle wrapped in a yellow blanket.
And a familiar voice.
Hold her carefully, Danny.
I pressed my palms against my temples.
“I remember a baby.””
My mother nodded.
“You found her in a room near the old maternity ward. Your father had hidden her there after discovering that Margaret intended to transfer her under a false name.””
“Why didn't he take her himself?””
“He was being watched. He believed a child carrying a baby would attract less attention than a doctor leaving the building with one.””
Sarah's face twisted.
“So Daniel was used as a courier?””
“No,” Mom said sharply.
“Your father never intended to let you be harmed. He thought he was protecting the baby.””
I stared at her.
“What happened next?””
She hesitated.
“Margaret found you.””
The memory came in fragments.
A corridor.
A woman in a cream-colored coat.
My father's voice shouting.
A hand reaching for the bundle.
Then the sound of something falling.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“She took the baby.””
Mom nodded.
“And your father told you to run.””
“Where?””
“Outside. He told you to go to the festival entrance and wait for him.””
I closed my eyes.
The festival.
The carousel.
The yellow ribbon.
For twenty-one years, I'd remembered Lily disappearing in the crowd.
But perhaps that wasn't the first thing that happened.
Perhaps I'd been looking for the wrong moment.
“I didn't lose Lily at the festival,” I whispered.
Mom shook her head.
“No. You lost her because Margaret made you believe you had.””
Sarah stepped closer.
“What does Lily have to do with Grace?””
Mom looked at the three of us.
“Margaret took Grace from the hospital. But your father had already made arrangements to protect her. He knew that if the child stayed under her real identity, she would be found.””
Elena's face went pale.
“What arrangements?””
Mom looked at her.
“Your father arranged for Grace to be placed with a woman he trusted. A woman who had agreed to keep her safe.””
“Who?””
My mother didn't answer immediately.
Then she looked at me.
“Margaret.””
I stared.
“You trusted Margaret?””
“No. Your father believed he could use her greed against her. He offered her money and documents in exchange for keeping Grace hidden until he could expose the network.””
Sarah shook her head.
“She took the baby anyway.””
“Yes. But she didn't keep her. She transferred Grace to another family.””
I looked down at the ledger.
“Who was the family?””
Mom pointed to the final column.
There was a name written in faded ink.
*The Millers.*
Rebecca Miller.
The woman from the hospital photograph.
The woman who had supposedly lost her baby.
I felt sick.
“Rebecca raised Grace?””
Mom nodded.
“For a time. But when Margaret discovered that Rebecca had kept copies of the original records, she separated them.””
Elena whispered, “And where is Grace now?””
Before Mom could answer, a door slammed somewhere down the corridor.
Reynolds raised his weapon.
“Police! Show yourself!””
Footsteps echoed.
An officer ran toward us.
“Detective! We've got someone at the rear entrance.””
We followed him.
A young woman stood near the loading bay.
She wore a dark jacket and held a small black case.
Her hair was tied back.
She looked frightened.
“Don't move,” Reynolds ordered.
The woman raised her hands.
“I came to talk.””
“Who are you?””
She looked directly at my mother.
“I'm Grace.””
Nobody moved.
My mother made a small sound.
“Grace?””
The woman nodded.
“I've been looking for you.””
I stepped forward.
“Are you Rebecca Miller's daughter?””
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.””
Sarah moved toward her.
“Why didn't you come sooner?””
“Because I didn't know who to trust. Margaret told me you were all dead. Then, three days ago, she contacted me and said she could finally tell me who I was.””
Elena looked at the black case.
“What's inside?””
Grace opened it.
A collection of photographs.
Hospital records.
And a small yellow ribbon.
I recognized it immediately.
The same ribbon Lily had worn at the festival.
My knees nearly gave way.
Grace looked at me.
“Your mother told me you might remember this.””
I reached for the ribbon.
“Where did you get it?””
“Rebecca kept it. She said it belonged to a little girl who was supposed to be my sister.””
I looked at Mom.
She was crying.
Grace continued.
“Margaret told me to bring the three Carter children to the mill. She said she would give me the rest of my birth records there.””
Reynolds took the case.
“She wanted all of you in one place.””
Grace nodded.
“She said the truth would come out tonight.””
My mother suddenly grabbed my arm.
“Daniel, we have to go.””
“Why?””
“Because Margaret doesn't want to explain anything.””
Mom looked at the black case.
“She wants to destroy the last evidence.””
A loud crash came from the archive room.
The lights went out.
Then a gunshot echoed through the building.
Reynolds shouted for everyone to get down.
In the darkness, I heard someone running.
And then Grace screamed.
When the emergency lights flickered on, she was gone.
So was the yellow ribbon.
On the floor where she'd been standing lay a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
There were only two sentences.
May you like
Bring the original ledger to the mill.
Or Grace will never learn who her mother really was.
