Chapter 8: The Night Maya Was Born
Maya called her mother back immediately.
The phone rang six times before going to voicemail.
She called again.
Nothing.
“She's not answering,” Maya said.
Marcus moved toward her, then stopped when he saw her expression.
“I can call the police and ask them to check the house.””
“Do it,” Maya replied.
“Tell them we have reason to believe my mother may be in danger.””
Marcus stepped away to make the call.
Attorney Carter remained beside the ceremony table, securing the legal documents. Isaiah stood near the altar, staring at the photograph of Denise as if it were the last piece of a life he had never understood.
Maya approached him.
“You thought I was dead.””
“Yes.””
“For eight years.””
“Yes.””
“And when you found out I was alive, you didn't come looking for me.””
Isaiah lowered his head.
“Richard told me there were legal proceedings underway. He said if I contacted you, I could make things worse.””
“You keep saying Richard told you things.”” Maya's voice trembled.
“Did you ever question him?””
“I did.””
“And?””
“He showed me documents. He showed me the DNA report. He said your mother had signed an agreement that prevented me from contacting you until the matter was resolved.””
“Was that true?””
Isaiah looked at the sealed folder.
“I don't know anymore.””
Maya stared at him.
“You don't know whether a piece of paper gave someone the right to keep you away from your daughter?””
“No. I know that no piece of paper could make what happened right.””
“Then why did you obey it?””
His answer came after a long silence.
“Because I was afraid of losing you again.””
Maya shook her head.
“You never had me.””
The words left her mouth before she could stop them.
Isaiah flinched.
She immediately regretted how much pain she had put into them, but she couldn't take them back.
For twenty years, she had wondered what was wrong with her. Now she was discovering that the adults around her had made decisions about her identity before she was old enough to understand what identity meant.
She didn't know whether to embrace Isaiah or never see him again.
She didn't know whether her mother was a victim or the person who had started the entire nightmare.
And she no longer knew whether the man standing beside her had been protecting her or protecting the secret.
Marcus returned.
“The police are sending someone to the house to check on Denise. They asked us to stay available in case they need more information.””
“I'm going there,” Maya said.
“I'll come with you.””
She looked at him.
He waited.
Finally, she nodded.
“Not because I trust you with this. Because I don't want to be alone when I find out what happened.””
Marcus accepted the distinction.
“I understand.””
Attorney Carter closed her briefcase.
“I'll accompany you. If we find the original agreement, nobody should remove or alter anything until we've documented it properly.””
Isaiah stepped forward.
“And I'll come too.””
Maya studied him for a long moment.
“You can come. But you don't get to decide what I read.””
“I won't.””
“And if I ask you a question, you answer it.””
“I will.””
She looked toward the wedding doors.
The white flowers still lined the aisle. The musicians sat quietly beside the wall. Her wedding cake waited in another room, untouched, while guests whispered about the ceremony that had never reached its vows.
Maya removed the ring from her finger.
Marcus stared at it.
She placed it gently beside the ring box on the ceremony table.
“I'm not saying our wedding is over,” she told him.
“But I'm not marrying you while I don't know who you are.””
Marcus's eyes filled.
“I understand.””
For the first time that day, Maya believed he might actually understand what he had done.
It didn't mean she could forgive him.
It only meant she could see him clearly enough to begin deciding.
They left the wedding hall together.
Denise's house stood on a quiet residential street lined with mature oak trees and neatly trimmed lawns. The front porch light was on despite the afternoon sun.
Maya hadn't been there in months.
The familiar blue shutters and white front door looked exactly as she remembered them. A ceramic planter sat beside the steps, and a small wind chime clicked softly above the porch.
Everything seemed ordinary.
That made the sight of a police cruiser parked at the curb feel even more alarming.
An officer met them at the front walk.
“We checked the property,” she explained.
“The front door was locked, and we didn't find anyone inside. There were no obvious signs of forced entry.””
“Did you check the back?”” Maya asked.
“Yes. The rear door was also locked.””
“Did you find my mother?””
“No.””
Maya looked toward the house.
“Can I go inside?””
“You can enter if you have lawful access to the property. We haven't found evidence of a crime at this stage, but if you discover anything concerning, please don't disturb it. Call us immediately.””
Maya nodded.
She unlocked the front door with the spare key she still carried on her key ring.
The familiar smell of lemon polish and lavender greeted her.
For a moment, she was eight years old again.
She remembered racing down the hallway after school, dropping her backpack by the stairs, and calling for her mother from the kitchen. She remembered Isaiah's photograph on the mantel, a picture Denise had eventually removed without explanation.
She remembered the locked drawer.
It was in her mother's bedroom, exactly where she expected it to be.
The brass key turned with a soft click.
Maya pulled the bottom drawer open.
Inside lay a thick manila envelope, a small velvet box, and a stack of folded letters tied with a blue ribbon.
She reached for the envelope first.
The label on the front read:
*ORIGINAL AGREEMENT — DO NOT DESTROY.*
Attorney Carter photographed the envelope in place before allowing Maya to lift it.
The first page contained several signatures and a date.
The second contained a list of conditions.
The third was a statement signed by Denise Bennett.
Maya read it slowly.
I acknowledge that Isaiah Carter was informed that his daughter had died shortly after birth. I acknowledge that I did not correct this information until the child was eight years old.
Maya's hands began to shake.
She looked at Isaiah.
He stood in the doorway, his face stricken.
“You didn't know I was alive.””
“No,” he whispered.
Maya looked back at the page.
I further acknowledge that the subsequent paternity test was requested after the child's identity was brought into question.
She swallowed hard.
“The test wasn't just to find out if he was my father.””
Attorney Carter leaned closer.
“It appears the question of your identity was formally raised.””
Maya turned the page.
A line near the bottom had been underlined in blue ink.
The parties agree that the child's biological parentage must remain confidential until further verification is completed.
Maya looked at the signatures.
Denise Bennett.
Isaiah Carter.
Richard Reed.
Then, below them, the signature of a witness.
Daniel Brooks.
Her mother, Isaiah, Marcus's father, and Daniel had all signed the same agreement.
But something about the document troubled her.
She looked at the date again.
It was dated twenty years ago.
The same year Isaiah had disappeared.
The same year she had turned eight.
The same year the DNA test had been conducted.
“Why does it say my identity was brought into question?”” she asked.
Attorney Carter studied the wording.
“That's a critical question. The document doesn't tell us who raised the concern or what evidence prompted it.””
Maya reached for the smaller velvet box.
Inside was a hospital identification bracelet, yellowed with age.
The printed label contained a date, a hospital name, and a number.
Beneath it lay a folded card.
Maya opened it.
In her mother's handwriting were six words.
You were not the baby they brought me.
Maya's knees weakened.
Marcus caught her elbow before she fell.
“What does that mean?”” he whispered.
She couldn't answer.
Isaiah approached the dresser but didn't touch anything.
Attorney Carter examined the bracelet and card without removing them from the box.
“This may be important evidence, but we need the hospital's original records before we can establish what it means.””
Maya stared at the words.
You were not the baby they brought me.
A terrible thought emerged.
“Did my mother believe I was switched at birth?””
Nobody spoke.
Then Maya noticed another envelope tucked beneath the velvet lining.
It contained a laboratory report, dated three days after her birth.
At the top were two names.
Denise Bennett.
And a second woman.
*Angela Brooks.*
Daniel Brooks's wife.
Maya's breath caught.
She looked toward Isaiah.
“Who is Angela Brooks?””
Isaiah stared at the name.
“I don't know.””
Attorney Carter read the report's heading.
Her expression changed.
“This is not the paternity report.””
Maya gripped the dresser.
“Then what is it?””
The attorney slowly turned the page.
“It's a hospital record connected to two newborn infants.””
Maya felt the room close around her.
Two infants.
Two mothers.
One agreement signed eight years later.
She looked at the date on the report, then at the note in her mother's handwriting.
For twenty-eight years, she had believed she knew where her story began.
Now she wondered whether the woman who had raised her had been trying to tell her something far more devastating.
Before Attorney Carter could read the next line, a sharp knock sounded at the front door.
Three firm blows.
Then a man's voice called from the hallway.
“I'm here for the original agreement.””
Isaiah moved in front of Maya.
May you like
Marcus turned toward the door.
And Attorney Carter quietly closed the laboratory report.
