Chapter 6: The Daughter Nobody Knew Existed
I didn't move.
My mother's words hung between us.
His own daughter.
I looked at the adoption papers again.
The hospital discharge authorization.
The photograph of Nia holding a newborn.
Then I looked at my mother.
"Whose daughter?""
She gripped the doorframe.
"Your father's.""
"You already told me he had an affair.""
"That woman wasn't just his mistress.""
My mother swallowed.
"She was pregnant with his child when your father supposedly died.""
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
"Supposedly?""
She nodded.
"Your father arranged his own death.""
The words sounded ridiculous.
Impossible.
But I was beginning to understand that the life I remembered had been built on lies.
"Why?""
"Because he was in trouble. He had borrowed money from people he couldn't repay. He was also being investigated for financial fraud.""
"So he disappeared.""
"He said it would be temporary.""
"And you helped him?""
"I didn't know what else to do.""
I stared at her.
"You let me believe my father was dead for twelve years.""
She began crying.
"I thought I was protecting you.""
"By making me mourn a living man?""
She lowered her head.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I called Officer Reynolds.
"My mother has just admitted that Thomas Carter faked his death.""
"Is she still there?""
"Yes.""
"Keep her there. We're on our way.""
My mother shook her head.
"Marcus, please don't.""
I stepped between her and the door.
"You've had twelve years to tell me the truth.""
She sat down.
And for the first time, she didn't try to defend herself.
Officer Reynolds arrived twenty minutes later with another detective.
They questioned my mother in the dining room.
I sat across from her, listening.
"Mrs. Carter," Officer Reynolds began, "did you know your husband was alive?""
"Yes.""
"Since when?""
"About two weeks after the funeral.""
"Which funeral?""
"The one we arranged for him.""
The detective beside him wrote something down.
"Was there actually a body?""
My mother shook her head.
"No.""
"Then whose ashes were placed in the urn?""
"I don't know.""
Officer Reynolds exchanged a glance with the detective.
"Did your husband contact you afterward?""
"Yes. Several times.""
"Did you see him?""
"Twice.""
"Where?""
"Once in Ohio. Once in a hotel near the airport.""
"Did you ever tell your son?""
"No.""
I looked at her.
"Did Dad contact Nia?""
My mother hesitated.
"Yes.""
"When?""
"Several months before she died.""
My heart began pounding.
"What did he want?""
"He wanted the baby.""
I leaned forward.
"Which baby?""
She looked at me.
"The little girl he had with another woman.""
"Where was she?""
My mother shook her head.
"I don't know. He said he had arranged everything.""
"Did Nia know?""
"She found out.""
Officer Reynolds stopped writing.
"How?""
My mother rubbed her forehead.
"She discovered a medical file in your father's old belongings. It contained the name of the woman and the child's original birth information.""
"Who was the woman?""
My mother looked at me for a long time.
Then she answered.
"Rebecca Miller.""
The detective immediately looked up.
"Rebecca Miller?""
My mother nodded.
"She worked at the hospital.""
I remembered the name.
Rachel, the nurse, had mentioned that someone had entered Nia's room without identification.
But Rebecca Miller meant nothing to me.
"Where is she now?""
My mother shook her head.
"Your father said she was dead.""
Officer Reynolds stood.
"We'll need to verify that.""
My mother looked at me.
"Marcus, there's something else.""
I was almost afraid to ask.
"What?""
"Rebecca didn't have just one child.""
The room became silent.
"She had twins.""
I stared at her.
Two babies.
Two records.
Two identities.
One child had been raised by me and Nia.
The other had disappeared.
Or so I thought.
"Where is the second child?"" I asked.
My mother began crying again.
"Your father said he took her somewhere safe.""
"Where?""
"I don't know.""
"Mom!""
She reached into her cardigan pocket and removed a small photograph.
It showed two newborn girls lying beside each other in hospital bassinets.
One had a pink blanket.
The other had a yellow one.
On the back, someone had written:
*Rebecca's girls. September 17.*
I checked the date.
It was Lily's birthday.
I looked at the babies again.
Then at my mother.
"Which one is Lily?""
She pointed to the baby in the pink blanket.
My chest tightened.
"And the other?""
My mother whispered:
"Vanessa.""
I stared at her.
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
Vanessa.
The woman who had entered my home three days after my wife's funeral.
The woman who had thrown Nia's photographs into the yard.
The woman who had tried to control the insurance money.
My daughter's biological twin sister.
I shook my head.
"No.""
My mother nodded.
"Your father arranged for Vanessa to be raised by another family. She grew up believing her parents had died.""
"How do you know?""
"Because I met her when she was little. Your father showed me a photograph.""
"Then why did she come into my life?""
My mother wiped her cheeks.
"I don't know.""
Officer Reynolds interrupted.
"Mrs. Carter, did your husband ever tell you why he arranged for the girls to be separated?""
She nodded slowly.
"He said there was a reason.""
"What reason?""
"He said one of the twins was in danger.""
I looked at the photograph again.
Two identical little faces.
One became my daughter.
The other became the woman who was now trying to destroy our family.
But the question that frightened me most was still unanswered.
Why had Vanessa been working for me for two years?
Why had she been so close to Nia during her illness?
And why had she started throwing away my wife's belongings before we had even finished mourning her?
Officer Reynolds's phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
Then his expression changed.
"What do you mean she left?""
He turned away.
"Where?""
A pause.
"Understood. Send the footage.""
He ended the call.
"What's happened?"" I asked.
He looked directly at me.
"Vanessa has disappeared.""
My stomach dropped.
"From where?""
"Her apartment. She left twenty minutes ago.""
"Do you know where she's going?""
He hesitated.
Then he showed me a photograph from a traffic camera.
Vanessa was driving a black sedan.
The same car from the hospital parking garage.
But it wasn't the destination that made my blood run cold.
It was the passenger.
An older man sat beside her.
Gray hair.
A slight bend in his left shoulder.
My father.
Thomas Carter.
Officer Reynolds enlarged the image.
I stared at the screen.
My father was alive.
And he was sitting beside the woman who had been trying to take everything from me.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Vanessa.
*Marcus, I know you found out about the twins. But Nia lied to you about which girl she brought home.*
A second message arrived.
*Lily isn't the daughter you think she is.*
I looked at the photograph of the two newborn babies.
May you like
Then I read the final message.
*And your father is coming to collect the daughter that belongs to him.*
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