Chapter 7: The Woman Who Never Stopped Waiting
I stared at the photograph until the screen went dark.
Then I touched it again.
Margaret Russo.
The woman I had been told was dead.
The woman whose name had appeared on a cake in my dining room.
The woman who had supposedly given birth to me and disappeared thirty-five years ago.
She was alive.
And someone had been keeping her hidden.
"Where is she?"" I asked.
Eleanor didn't answer.
I turned toward her.
"Where is my mother?""
She looked at the photograph and began shaking her head.
"Marcus, please don't go.""
"Why?""
"Because you don't know what you're walking into.""
I held up the phone.
"She's sitting in a wheelchair outside a nursing home. What exactly am I walking into?""
Eleanor looked at Daniel.
"Please tell him this is a bad idea.""
My attorney adjusted his glasses.
"Mrs. Carter, if Margaret Russo is alive and possesses information concerning his inheritance, Marcus has every right to speak with her.""
"She isn't well.""
"Then we'll make sure she receives proper care.""
Eleanor suddenly stood.
"You don't understand! She isn't the same woman you remember from those photographs.""
I froze.
"How would you know what she looks like now?""
My mother said nothing.
I took a step toward her.
"When was the last time you saw her?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Six months ago.""
The room went silent.
I felt something inside me tighten.
"You've been visiting her?""
Eleanor nodded.
"Yes.""
"While telling me she was dead?""
"I had no choice.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You always have a choice. You just keep choosing lies.""
She covered her face.
"Your father made me promise.""
I walked toward the door.
"Then your promise ends today.""
Vanessa followed me.
"Marcus, wait.""
I turned.
"What now?""
She looked frightened.
"Anthony knows you're going to see her.""
"How?""
"He has people watching the nursing home.""
I stared at her.
"Why would he watch his own mother?""
Vanessa swallowed.
"Because he doesn't want her talking.""
Daniel immediately reached for his phone.
"I'm calling security.""
I looked at Eleanor.
"Get your coat.""
She frowned.
"What?""
"You're coming with me.""
She shook her head.
"I can't.""
"You can either tell me the truth on the way there, or I'll hear it from Margaret.""
For a moment, she looked as though she might refuse.
Then she quietly picked up her handbag.
The drive to Pennsylvania took almost three hours.
Nobody spoke much.
Daniel drove.
I sat in the passenger seat, holding the photograph on my phone.
Eleanor sat in the back.
Every few minutes, I looked at her in the rearview mirror.
She never met my eyes.
Finally, I broke the silence.
"Why did you visit Margaret?""
Eleanor folded her hands.
"To make sure she was being cared for.""
"Did she know who you were?""
"Yes.""
"What did she say?""
"She asked about you.""
My throat tightened.
"What did you tell her?""
"That you were happy.""
I looked out the window.
"Was I?""
Eleanor began crying quietly.
"She wanted to see you. I told her it wasn't possible.""
"Why?""
"Because Anthony had threatened to take you away from us.""
I turned.
"How could he take me away? I was an adopted child.""
"Because he knew the truth about your father.""
I frowned.
"What truth?""
Eleanor hesitated.
"Frank Russo had two sons. But he didn't want either of them to inherit the company.""
I stared at her.
"Then why did he leave everything to me?""
"He didn't.""
I turned fully toward her.
"What?""
She looked down.
"Your father didn't leave you the company. He placed it in a trust.""
"Then who gave me control?""
"Richard Carter.""
The name made my stomach turn.
Eleanor continued.
"Frank changed his identity after a business dispute. He became Richard Carter. He married me, adopted you, and built a new life.""
"But why?""
"Because Anthony's mother had discovered that Frank was planning to disappear with his assets. She threatened to expose him.""
"And me?""
"Frank believed Anthony was dangerous. He thought you would be safer growing up with a different name.""
I stared at her.
"So my father hid me from my own brother.""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
Eleanor looked out the window.
"Because Anthony had already tried to hurt you.""
I felt cold.
"What?""
She nodded slowly.
"When you were six months old, someone broke into our house. Your father found a man standing beside your crib.""
I couldn't speak.
"Did he catch him?""
"No. The man escaped.""
"Was it Anthony?""
"I don't know. But Frank believed it was connected to Margaret's family.""
Daniel glanced at us in the mirror.
"Why was this never reported?""
Eleanor looked down.
"Because Frank had spent years hiding his identity. A police investigation would have exposed everything.""
I rubbed my face.
My life was beginning to feel like a story written by strangers.
And I was the last person to discover the plot.
The nursing home was a quiet brick building surrounded by bare trees.
A sign near the entrance read:
*HARBOR VIEW SENIOR CARE.*
Daniel went to speak with the administrator while Eleanor and I waited in the lobby.
A nurse approached us.
"Are you here to see Margaret Russo?""
I nodded.
"Yes.""
She studied my face.
"Are you Marcus?""
My heart skipped.
"How do you know?""
The nurse smiled sadly.
"Your mother has been asking for you every Sunday.""
I looked at Eleanor.
She lowered her eyes.
The nurse led us down a long hallway.
We passed a common room where elderly residents watched television. Somewhere, a radio played softly. The smell of disinfectant mixed with coffee.
Finally, the nurse stopped outside room 214.
"She's had a difficult morning," she warned.
"Please don't overwhelm her.""
I nodded.
Then I opened the door.
An elderly woman sat beside the window.
Her silver hair was neatly brushed. A pale blue blanket covered her legs. A photograph rested on the bedside table.
It showed a newborn baby wrapped in a white hospital blanket.
Me.
She turned when she heard the door.
Her eyes moved from Eleanor to me.
For several seconds, she didn't speak.
Then her trembling hand rose to her mouth.
"Marcus?""
I couldn't answer.
She began crying.
"Oh, my baby.""
I walked toward her slowly.
"Are you Margaret?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
I pulled a chair beside her bed.
"Why didn't you come looking for me?""
Her face crumpled.
"I did.""
"Why didn't you find me?""
She looked at Eleanor.
My mother stood near the door, trembling.
Margaret reached for my hand.
"Because they told me you were dead.""
The room went silent.
I felt my blood turn cold.
"Who told you that?""
"Richard.""
I looked at Eleanor.
Margaret continued.
"He came to see me after you were born. He told me there had been complications. He said you hadn't survived.""
I stared at her.
"But I was alive.""
She nodded.
"I found out three years later.""
"How?""
"Anthony.""
My stomach tightened.
"He came to see me. He told me you were living with Richard and Eleanor. He said they had stolen you.""
I looked at the woman sitting beside me.
"Why didn't you go to the police?""
Margaret gave a sad smile.
"Because Richard had documents proving I had voluntarily given up my parental rights. He had made me sign them when I was recovering from surgery.""
I looked at Eleanor.
"Did you know?""
She nodded.
"I knew.""
Margaret squeezed my hand.
"I never stopped loving you, Marcus. I kept every photograph. Every letter. Every birthday card I wrote and never sent.""
She reached toward the bedside table.
Inside the drawer was a small wooden box.
She opened it.
Thirty-five birthday cards.
One for every year of my life.
Some had my name written in blue ink.
Others had little drawings of balloons and cakes.
I picked up the card marked with my seventh birthday.
My hands began to shake.
"Why did you keep these?""
"Because I believed one day you would come.""
I looked at Eleanor.
"Did you know about the cards?""
She couldn't look at me.
Margaret turned toward her.
"Tell him about the night you came to my house.""
Eleanor stiffened.
"What night?""
Margaret's eyes filled.
"The night Richard told me Marcus was dead.""
My mother began crying.
Margaret continued.
"You didn't come alone, Eleanor. You brought Anthony.""
I stood.
"Anthony?""
Margaret nodded.
"He was seventeen. He stood in my doorway and told me something I have never forgotten.""
I leaned closer.
"What?""
Margaret looked directly at me.
"He told me he would make sure you never inherited your father's company.""
Then she reached into the wooden box and removed a folded letter.
"This is why he wanted you dead.""
I took it.
On the envelope was my father's handwriting.
But beneath his signature was a sentence that made me stop breathing.
*Anthony knows Marcus is not the biological heir to the Carter empire.*
I looked up.
May you like
Margaret whispered:
"Your father left the company to someone else.""
