Chapter 7: The Baby Who Came Before Me
"Because that baby wasn't you.""
My mother's words echoed through the phone.
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Then whose baby was it?""
Patricia began crying.
"Emily, please. You have to come home. We need to talk privately.""
"No. You can talk now.""
"Not over the phone.""
"Why? Are you afraid someone might hear the truth?""
There was a long silence.
Then she whispered, "Your father wasn't the only man who died because of what happened.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who else died?""
"Please, Emily.""
I ended the call.
Edward was already looking at the photograph again.
Eleanor sat motionless, her hands trembling.
I turned toward her.
"Mom, do you know about this?""
She shook her head.
"Patricia was pregnant when I first met her. She told everyone she had lost the baby.""
"Why?""
"She said she had complications. Daniel tried to help her, but she wouldn't discuss it.""
I looked at the photograph.
Patricia stood beside Daniel, holding a newborn.
The baby was wrapped in a white blanket.
A hospital bracelet was visible around its tiny wrist.
Edward enlarged the image.
"There's a hospital name on the bracelet.""
Margaret, who had just arrived, leaned over his shoulder.
"St. Catherine's.""
I felt my stomach turn.
The same hospital where Eleanor had disappeared.
"Can we get the original medical records?"" I asked.
Margaret nodded.
"With the right authorization, we can request them. But I may know someone who can help.""
She took out her phone and called an older colleague.
While she spoke, I studied the photograph.
Something about the baby bothered me.
Not the fact that it wasn't me.
The bracelet.
There was a small handwritten number beside the hospital logo.
Twenty-seven.
I looked at Eleanor.
"Did you have any other children?""
Her expression changed.
"No.""
"Are you sure?""
"Emily, I only had you.""
I pointed at the photograph.
"Then why was Patricia holding a baby at the hospital nine months before I was born?""
Eleanor stared at the image.
Then she whispered something.
"She told me the baby had died.""
Edward turned.
"What baby?""
Eleanor looked as if she had forgotten how to breathe.
"Patricia's first child.""
I stared at her.
"She had another child?""
Eleanor nodded slowly.
"She gave birth when she was very young. Her father, Arthur, never allowed her to speak about it.""
"Did you know what happened?""
"No. I thought the baby died shortly after birth.""
Margaret ended her call.
"I've reached someone at St. Catherine's. The hospital still has archived records from that period.""
She looked at the photograph.
"If we can identify the patient, we may be able to establish what happened.""
Edward frowned.
"But why would Patricia be holding that baby in January 2006?""
I looked at Eleanor.
"Could it have been a child she had secretly given up?""
Eleanor shook her head.
"She would have been almost forty. It's possible, but...""
She stopped.
"But what?""
"Patricia had another reason to be at that hospital. She visited Daniel shortly before his accident.""
I felt a chill.
"Was Richard there?""
Eleanor nodded.
"He drove her.""
The pieces were beginning to connect, but none of them made sense yet.
Then Margaret received an email.
She read it twice.
"Emily, I think we have an answer.""
She turned her laptop toward us.
It was a scanned hospital record.
*Patient: Patricia Bennett.*
*Date of admission: January 18, 2006.*
*Procedure: Transfer of infant custody following emergency delivery.*
My heart began pounding.
"She gave birth?""
Margaret nodded.
"According to this record, Patricia delivered a baby girl.""
I stared at the screen.
"Who was the father?""
Margaret scrolled.
The father's name had been entered in a separate section.
Then crossed out.
Underneath, someone had written:
*Daniel Thomas Bennett.*
I looked at Eleanor.
She slowly shook her head.
"No.""
Margaret continued.
"The record indicates that the infant was transferred to another family under a confidential arrangement. The adoption paperwork was sealed.""
"Where did the baby go?""
"We don't know yet.""
I sat back.
Patricia had given birth to a child fathered by Daniel.
Before I was born.
My mother and my father had shared a secret that nobody had ever mentioned.
But there was something worse.
If Patricia had a baby in January 2006, and I was born in October, then Daniel had been involved with both women during the same year.
I looked at Eleanor.
"Did you know he was seeing Patricia?""
Tears filled her eyes.
"No, sweetheart. I swear I didn't.""
"Did he know she was pregnant?""
"I don't know.""
For a moment, I wanted to believe that the whole thing was a mistake.
That there was some innocent explanation.
Then Margaret opened another attachment.
It was an adoption consent form.
The signature at the bottom belonged to Patricia.
But the witness signature belonged to Richard Bennett.
I recognized it immediately.
My husband had signed the adoption paperwork.
Before I was even born.
"How old was Richard in 2006?"" I asked.
Edward answered quietly.
"Twenty-four.""
I stared at the signature.
"Why was he involved?""
Margaret enlarged the final page.
There was a handwritten note.
Infant to be placed with family selected by Arthur Bennett. No contact permitted after transfer.
Underneath was another name.
*Adoptive family: Unknown.*
I looked at Edward.
"Can we find this child?""
He nodded.
"We can try.""
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
A moment later, his face changed.
"You're certain?""
He listened again.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
"That was the hospital archivist.""
"What did they find?""
Edward looked directly at me.
"The infant's adoption was never finalized.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"The baby was transferred to a private residence, but there is no completed adoption record.""
Margaret leaned forward.
"Where was the child taken?""
Edward swallowed.
"To the Bennett family estate.""
I looked at him.
"Which estate?""
He hesitated.
Then answered.
"Arthur's house.""
Before anyone could speak, my phone vibrated.
A text message appeared from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of a little girl.
She looked about four years old.
May you like
Beneath the photograph were seven words.
You have a sister. She's living with Richard.
