Chapter 3: The Name on the Envelope
Nobody moved.
The church was so quiet that I could hear the rain tapping against the stained-glass windows.
I looked at Aunt Patricia.
"What do you mean, someone had access to my medical records?""
She wiped her cheeks with a tissue.
"I shouldn't have said anything.""
"Then tell me what you know.""
My aunt glanced at Marcus.
He stepped away from me just enough to give her room, but he kept hold of my hand.
"Patricia," he said, "if someone accessed Emily's private information, we need to know who.""
My aunt shook her head.
"It wasn't supposed to go this far.""
Brielle let out an impatient breath.
"Oh, for heaven's sake. You're all acting as though someone stole state secrets.""
Marcus turned toward her.
"You can stop talking now.""
For once, she did.
My aunt stared at the carpet.
"Three weeks ago, Elaine called me. She was upset because Emily had stopped answering her messages.""
I looked at my mother.
"That's because you kept asking me whether Marcus knew about my hair.""
My mother opened her mouth, but my aunt continued.
"Elaine wanted to know whether Emily's condition could affect the marriage. She said Brielle had offered to help her find out more.""
"Help her find out what?"" I asked.
My aunt's fingers twisted around the tissue.
"Whether Emily had told Marcus everything.""
I felt Marcus stiffen beside me.
My mother spoke quickly.
"I never asked anyone to access medical records.""
"Then why did you involve Brielle?"" I demanded.
"Because I was worried!""
"You were worried about whether I could have children. You were worried about whether Marcus would still want me. You weren't worried about me.""
My mother's face crumpled, but I no longer knew whether the tears were real.
Aunt Patricia drew a shaky breath.
"Brielle said she knew someone who worked at the clinic where Emily was being treated.""
My stomach turned.
The clinic.
I remembered the waiting room, the smell of disinfectant, the woman behind the reception desk who always greeted me by name. I remembered signing forms and handing over insurance cards. I remembered believing that the information I shared there belonged to me.
"Who?"" I asked.
Patricia shook her head.
"I don't know the person's name.""
Brielle stepped forward.
"That's enough.""
My aunt looked at her.
"You told me it was harmless.""
"I told you nothing.""
"You said you could prove Emily was hiding something.""
"I never said that.""
"You showed me a document!""
The words burst out of my aunt before she could stop them.
Every head turned.
Marcus's expression became unreadable.
"What document?"" he asked.
Patricia began to cry harder.
"A page with Emily's name on it. It had some medical information. Brielle said it proved Emily might not be able to have children.""
I felt dizzy.
Marcus guided me toward the nearest pew.
This time, I sat.
He crouched in front of me, blocking out the crowd.
"Look at me, sweetheart.""
I tried.
"Are you feeling faint?""
"A little.""
"Do you want me to take you outside?""
I shook my head.
"Not yet.""
He squeezed my hands.
"All right. I'm right here.""
I looked past him at my aunt.
"Was the document real?""
Patricia hesitated.
"I don't know.""
"Did you read it?""
"Only part of it.""
"What did it say?""
My aunt closed her eyes.
"It mentioned a possible complication from treatment. It didn't say you couldn't have children. Brielle told us that was what it meant.""
Marcus stood.
"Then she either misunderstood the document or deliberately lied about it.""
Brielle's face reddened.
"You have no idea what I saw.""
"Then show us.""
"I don't have it anymore.""
"Convenient.""
Brielle turned toward her mother.
"Can we please leave?""
Her mother grabbed her arm.
"Not until you explain yourself.""
Brielle stared at her in disbelief.
"You're taking their side?""
"I'm taking the side of common sense. You have just admitted that you obtained private medical information about another person.""
"I didn't obtain anything illegally!""
"Then tell us where you got it," Marcus said.
Brielle said nothing.
I looked at my mother.
"Did you see this document?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
"Did you know Brielle had it?""
A pause.
Then she whispered, "Yes.""
The admission hurt more than I expected.
"You knew she had my medical information, and you didn't tell me?""
My mother looked desperate now.
"I thought she was trying to help. She said she wanted to make sure you weren't putting Marcus through something he hadn't agreed to.""
I stood so quickly that the pew creaked.
"Marcus is not a child you needed to protect from me.""
"Emily—"
"No. You don't get to say my name as though you're the one who's been hurt.""
My voice shook, but I kept going.
"You didn't sit beside me when I was afraid to look in the mirror. You didn't come with me when I learned what treatment might do to my body. You didn't ask whether I needed help getting dressed this morning.""
I glanced toward Brielle.
"And you certainly didn't have to stand here while someone ripped off your wig in front of everyone you love.""
My mother began sobbing.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
Marcus moved beside me.
"We're going to finish this wedding," he said gently.
"But first, I want everyone who knew about that document to tell us the truth.""
Brielle shook her head.
"This is insane.""
"Then tell us the truth and prove it.""
She looked toward the church doors.
Aunt Patricia suddenly spoke again.
"There was something else.""
My mother stopped crying.
Brielle went still.
My aunt reached into her handbag with trembling fingers and pulled out a folded envelope.
"I kept it because I was afraid someone would blame me.""
She handed it to Marcus.
He opened it carefully.
Inside was a printed page with several lines of text, a clinic logo, and my full name.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
It looked official.
Too official.
Marcus read it silently, then handed it to me.
I stared at the page.
There were medical terms I recognized, followed by a sentence about the potential effects of treatment on reproductive health.
But the bottom of the page contained something I hadn't expected.
A handwritten note in blue ink.
*If Emily won't tell Marcus herself, someone needs to make sure he finds out before the wedding.*
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It belonged to my mother.
I looked up at her.
"You wrote this?""
She began shaking her head.
"I didn't mean for anyone to use it like that.""
"You wrote it?""
"I was trying to protect you!""
"From what?""
She covered her face.
Marcus took the page from me and examined the bottom corner.
"Patricia, where did you get this envelope?""
"My mailbox. Someone left it there two days ago.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
Marcus turned the page over.
There was a small printed label on the back, almost hidden beneath the fold.
He read it once.
Then he read it again.
His face changed.
"What is it?"" I asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at Brielle.
"Did you get this from the clinic?""
Brielle shook her head too quickly.
"No.""
Marcus pointed to the label.
"Then explain why this envelope has the name of a medical records contractor printed on it.""
Brielle's lips parted.
My mother whispered, "Oh, God.""
I stared at the envelope.
The label contained a company name I had never seen before.
But Marcus had.
He looked at me, his expression suddenly grave.
"Emily, I need you to listen carefully.""
"What?""
"This document may not have come from your doctor at all.""
He turned the page toward the light.
At the bottom, beneath the printed text, was a signature that appeared to belong to a medical professional.
But the signature was dated two months before my treatment had even begun.
And beneath it was a name I recognized.
Not my doctor's.
Not anyone who had ever treated me.
It was the name of the woman who had interviewed me for my job at the clinic.
My mother's face went white.
Because she knew that woman, too.
May you like
And when Marcus asked her how, she whispered four words that made my entire world shift.
"She's your father's daughter.""
