Chapter 4: The Voice on the Recording
“Margaret, please. You don't have to do this.””
Ryan's voice came through the recording, younger than I remembered it, but unmistakably his.
I stood frozen beside the kitchen table, my mother's letter clutched in one hand and the supplemental agreement in the other.
The recording crackled.
My mother's voice followed.
“You promised me, Richard. You promised that Emily would never be dragged into this.””
“I kept my promise,” Richard Hayes replied.
“She's not involved.””
“Your son has been asking questions about her.””
A long silence.
Then Ryan spoke again.
“Because I need to know what she knows.””
My fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
Claire stood beside me, her hand pressed over her mouth. Olivia sat across from us, staring at the little recording device as if it were a loaded gun.
My mother's voice grew sharper.
“She knows nothing. That's exactly how I intend to keep it.””
Ryan laughed softly.
“Then tell me why you kept the documents.””
“Because they're mine.””
“They belong to the foundation.””
“They belong to the people who created it. Your father knows that.””
Richard interrupted.
“Ryan, enough.””
But Ryan continued.
“You told me the controlling rights would transfer to the family eventually. You never said she would inherit them.””
“She wasn't supposed to,” Richard said.
“Then why does her name appear in the trust?””
Another silence followed.
I could hear the faint hum of machinery in the background, perhaps hospital equipment. My mother's breathing sounded strained.
When she spoke again, her voice had changed.
“If Emily ever meets you, you will leave her alone.””
Ryan answered immediately.
“What if I love her?””
My chest tightened.
Even knowing what I knew now, those four words hurt.
My mother gave a bitter laugh.
“You don't even know her.””
“I know enough.””
“You know her name. You know what she might inherit. You know that marrying her would give your family access to something Richard has spent years trying to recover.””
“That isn't why I want her.””
“Then prove it. Walk away.””
Ryan said nothing.
Then came the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.
Richard spoke in a low voice.
“Son, we're leaving.””
Ryan's response was so quiet that I almost missed it.
“Not without the documents.””
The recording ended with a sharp click.
For several seconds, none of us moved.
Then I turned toward Olivia.
“How old was I when this happened?””
“Twenty-one,” she whispered.
“You were living in Boston. Mom had been hospitalized for weeks.””
“And Ryan?””
“Twenty-three, I think.””
I stared at the recording device.
Ryan and I had met three years ago at a charity fundraiser in Chicago. He'd spilled coffee on my sleeve, apologized three times, and spent the rest of the evening helping me clean it.
I'd thought the encounter was an accident.
I'd thought our first date had been spontaneous, too. He'd found me at a bookstore two weeks later, holding the same novel I'd mentioned at the fundraiser.
He'd remembered my favorite author.
He'd remembered how I took my coffee.
He'd remembered everything.
I suddenly wondered whether he'd simply studied me.
“Did he know who I was when we met?”” I asked.
Olivia looked down.
“I don't know.””
“That's not an answer.””
“I swear, Emily. Patricia told me Ryan didn't know the details until after you started dating. She said he'd met you by coincidence.””
“Did you believe her?””
“I wanted to.””
I pushed the papers away.
“I don't want what you wanted, Olivia. I want the truth.””
She wiped her cheeks.
“Then you need to hear the rest.””
She tapped the recording device again.
A second file appeared on the tiny screen, dated two days after the first.
“Where did you get this?”” Claire asked.
Olivia hesitated.
“Patricia keeps a private archive of old recordings and correspondence. She says it's for legal protection. I found these while looking for the original trust agreement.””
“You stole them?””
“I copied them.””
“Why didn't you tell Emily earlier?”” Claire demanded.
Olivia flinched.
“Because Patricia threatened me. She has copies of emails I sent when I was working for one of her investment companies. I approved transfers I shouldn't have approved. I thought I was helping her move money between accounts, but some of it went to companies that didn't exist.””
I looked at my sister.
“How much money?””
“Almost four hundred thousand dollars.””
Claire stared at her.
“Olivia!””
“I know!”” she cried.
“I know what it sounds like. I was drowning in debt, and Patricia offered me a job. She said the transfers were legitimate. By the time I realized what was happening, my name was on everything.””
My anger didn't disappear, but it changed shape.
Olivia had betrayed me. She had helped the Hayes family search for my mother's documents.
But someone had also placed a leash around her neck.
I knew what it felt like to be frightened of losing everything.
“Play the second recording,” I said.
Olivia pressed the button.
This time, Richard spoke first.
“Margaret's condition is deteriorating. We need to settle the matter before the end of the month.””
My mother answered weakly.
“You're talking about my daughter as if she's a piece of property.””
“I'm trying to protect her.””
“By hiding the truth?””
“By preventing a legal war that could destroy everything.””
Ryan's voice cut in.
“What happens if she never discovers the trust?””
“Then the existing arrangement remains in place,” Richard replied.
“And if she does?””
“Then she has the right to challenge it.””
Ryan laughed without humor.
“So we wait for her to find a document she doesn't know exists?””
“We respect your mother's wishes.””
“My mother is dead.””
Richard's voice hardened.
“Your mother is alive, Ryan. And she's sitting right here.””
I stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
Ryan said, “You told me she died.””
Silence.
Then Richard answered, “I told you she was gone from our lives. That's not the same thing.””
My mother began to cry.
“Richard, don't.””
I gripped the table so hard my knuckles hurt.
My mother had died in a hospital room three years earlier. I had held her hand as the machines slowed, and I had kissed her forehead after the doctor told me there was nothing more they could do.
What was Richard talking about?
The recording crackled again.
Ryan spoke slowly.
“Then who was the woman in the hospital?””
Richard didn't answer.
My mother's voice came through, barely audible.
“Emily doesn't need to know about her.””
The file ended.
I stumbled backward into a chair.
“No,” I whispered.
“That doesn't make sense.””
Claire knelt beside me.
“Emily, breathe.””
“I was there. I watched my mother die.””
“I know.””
“I saw her face.””
“I know.””
But I couldn't stop hearing those words.
Then who was the woman in the hospital?
I opened my mother's letter again, desperately searching for an explanation.
The pages trembled in my hands.
Near the bottom of the final sheet, I noticed a line written in a different ink, as though my mother had added it later.
If you are told that I died alone, remember that a mother can disappear without leaving her daughter.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Olivia.
“Did you know?””
She shook her head frantically.
“No. Emily, I swear I didn't.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from Ryan.
Please come back to the venue. We need to talk before the ceremony.
Another message followed.
Your mother's story is more complicated than you think.
Then a third.
If you want to know what really happened at the hospital, ask Patricia about the woman named Helen.
I stared at the name.
Helen.
My mother had never mentioned anyone by that name.
Before I could respond, Olivia grabbed my wrist.
“Emily, there's something else.””
I turned toward her.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a folded photograph.
It showed two women standing outside a hospital entrance.
One was my mother.
The other had my face.
Not someone who resembled me.
My face. My eyes. My mouth. Even the tiny crescent-shaped scar beneath my chin that I'd gotten when I fell off my bicycle at seven.
The woman beside my mother was wearing a hospital bracelet.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
It was the date my mother supposedly died.
May you like
And beneath it were five words.
*Helen Carter. Biological mother of Emily.*
