Chapter 4: The Woman Who Gave Birth to Me
For several seconds, nobody moved.
I stared at the hospital record lying on the table.
Margaret Bell.
Richard Whitmore.
My biological mother.
The words seemed impossible to understand.
"That's a lie," Eleanor whispered.
Victor slowly closed his leather folder.
"Is it?""
"Margaret was our employee. She was never Richard's lover.""
Victor raised an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to remind you what happened twenty-seven years ago?""
Eleanor's face turned white.
"Get out.""
"You're making this difficult for yourself.""
"I said get out!""
Victor adjusted his cufflinks.
"Emily deserves to know the truth. You can't expect her to join this family while hiding the circumstances of her birth.""
I looked at Eleanor.
"Is it true?""
She didn't answer.
I turned toward Victor.
"Was Margaret really my biological mother?""
He nodded.
"According to the medical records, yes.""
Daniel stepped between Victor and me.
"You're showing us a piece of paper. That doesn't prove anything.""
Victor smiled.
"Then perhaps you'd like to see the original.""
He reached into his folder and produced another document.
It was a hospital discharge summary, stamped and signed.
The date was twenty-six years earlier.
My birth date.
I scanned the page.
Margaret Bell had delivered a baby girl.
The biological father was listed as Richard Whitmore.
My hands began shaking.
"Why?"" I whispered.
Victor shrugged.
"Because your father was a married man who made a terrible decision.""
Eleanor sank into a chair.
I looked at her.
"Did you know?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I knew Margaret had become pregnant. I didn't know Richard was the father until much later.""
"Much later?""
"After you disappeared.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I didn't know whether it was true.""
Victor laughed softly.
"That's convenient.""
Eleanor stood.
"Richard told me he had made a mistake. He said he had ended the relationship before Margaret gave birth. He promised me that you were his child, and I believed him.""
"So you knew I wasn't yours?""
Her face crumpled.
"No. Emily, listen to me. I raised you.
I carried you when you were sick. I chose your name. I loved you before you were even born.""
"But Margaret gave birth to me.""
"Yes.""
"And she disappeared.""
Eleanor began crying.
I couldn't bear to watch her.
I picked up the hospital record and studied Margaret's signature.
It was elegant, with a long curved line beneath her surname.
"Where is she now?"" I asked.
Victor shook his head.
"Nobody knows.""
"Then how do you have these records?""
"Because I kept them.""
"Why?""
He looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand.
"Because someone had to preserve the truth.""
Daniel let out a bitter laugh.
"You're telling us you've been hiding evidence for twenty-two years out of some noble sense of responsibility?""
Victor's smile disappeared.
"Be careful, young man.""
"Or what?""
"Or you may discover that your employment situation is considerably less secure than you think.""
Daniel stepped forward.
"Are you threatening me?""
Victor picked up his folder.
"I'm explaining reality.""
He turned toward me.
"Emily, you have no idea how much trouble your sudden appearance could cause. The Whitmore family controls hotels, property, and investment companies. There are inheritance arrangements, trusts, and legal obligations.""
"I don't want your money.""
"Everyone says that until they see the numbers.""
I looked at him.
"I said I don't want it.""
For the first time, his expression changed.
He studied me for several seconds before giving a small nod.
"Then perhaps we have nothing to discuss.""
He walked toward the door.
But before leaving, he turned around.
"One final thing. If you're planning to contact Margaret Bell, don't waste your time.""
"Why?""
Victor's eyes settled on the bracelet in my hand.
"Because she died eleven years ago.""
The door closed behind him.
I stood completely still.
Margaret had given birth to me.
Margaret had taken me somewhere.
Margaret had disappeared.
And now Victor was telling me she was dead.
Daniel placed Lily in her stroller and reached for my hand.
"Emily, let's go home.""
I nodded.
But Eleanor suddenly stood.
"Wait.""
She approached me slowly.
"There's something I haven't told you.""
I looked at her.
"What now?""
She took a photograph from her handbag.
It showed Richard standing outside a hospital, holding a newborn baby.
Beside him was Margaret.
She looked exhausted, but she was smiling.
On the back, someone had written:
Our little girl. The beginning of everything.
Eleanor handed it to me.
"I found this in Richard's study six months after you disappeared.""
I turned the photograph over again.
There was something else written beneath the first sentence.
A second line.
If anything happens to me, give Emily the letter.
I looked up.
"What letter?""
Eleanor shook her head.
"I never found it.""
Then she gripped my hand.
"But I know where Richard kept his private belongings before the stroke.""
"Where?""
"At the old family house.""
I looked toward the closed door.
Victor had told us Margaret was dead.
But he hadn't explained why he had kept her medical records.
And Eleanor had just revealed something even more important.
My father had left a letter.
May you like
A letter meant for me.
And somebody had spent twenty-two years making sure I never read it.
