Chapter 10: The Second Daughter
I forgot how to breathe.
Brielle Carter was my sister.
The woman who had spent three years mocking my clothes, questioning my background, and treating me like an embarrassment was apparently the child my mother had been told was dead.
And according to Eleanor, there was another child.
“Who is the second daughter?”” I whispered.
The woman on the phone began crying.
“Her name is Claire.””
I looked at Renee.
She was already writing the name down.
“Where is she?”” I asked.
“I don't know.””
“What do you mean you don't know?””
“Your mother gave birth to three girls, Nia. You, Brielle, and Claire. But after the delivery, Edward Carter arranged for the hospital records to be changed.””
My legs felt weak.
I sat down beside the vault's narrow desk.
“Why would he do that?””
Eleanor took a shaky breath.
“Because your mother had discovered something about him. Something that could destroy his business and his reputation.””
“What?””
“Edward was using his position at Carter Dynamics to move money through private investment accounts. Your mother found evidence that he had been taking funds from employees' benefit reserves and hiding the transactions through shell companies.””
Renee looked up sharply.
The missing employee funds.
The Northbridge transfers.
The old debt.
Suddenly, the pieces seemed connected.
Eleanor continued.
“Your mother threatened to report him. Edward was terrified. He believed she would take the children and expose everything.””
“So he took us?””
“He arranged for two of the babies to be separated from your mother. He told her they hadn't survived.””
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
“And Brielle?””
“Edward and Patricia raised her as their daughter. They told everyone she was born prematurely and needed special medical care.””
My eyes filled.
“What about Claire?””
Eleanor hesitated.
“Claire was placed with another family.””
“Which family?””
“I don't know their current name. I only know that your father spent years trying to locate her.””
I looked at Margaret.
She had begun crying silently.
“Why didn't my father tell me?””
“Because he was afraid Edward would come after you. He had already threatened your mother once. After the accident, your father believed keeping you away from the truth was the only way to protect you.””
I swallowed.
“Eleanor, you said my mother's accident wasn't what we were told.””
There was a long silence.
Then she answered.
“Your mother was killed.””
The words landed heavily.
“Are you certain?””
“I saw the original investigation report. The brakes on her car had been tampered with.””
I closed my eyes.
My mother.
I remembered her perfume.
The way she used to sing while preparing breakfast.
The way she kissed my forehead before school.
I had spent years believing a wet road and a careless driver had taken her away.
Now I was being told someone had deliberately made sure she never came home.
“Who did it?”” I asked.
Eleanor's voice trembled.
“I don't have the final proof. But Edward Carter paid the investigator who arranged the vehicle inspection.””
I looked at Renee.
She was already contacting our legal team.
“Where can I meet you?”” I asked.
“Not over the phone.””
“Why?””
“Because someone has been watching me.””
A noise sounded in the background.
Eleanor suddenly lowered her voice.
“Nia, listen. You must not trust Patricia. She knows what happened to your mother.””
Then the call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Renee immediately tried calling back.
No answer.
Margaret sat beside me.
“Your father spent the last years of his life trying to find the truth,” she whispered.
I looked at her.
“Then we're going to finish what he started.””
Two hours later, I was in the back of a black SUV with Renee.
We were heading to a private address Eleanor had sent before the call disconnected.
The address belonged to a small townhouse in Brooklyn.
When we arrived, the front door was slightly open.
Renee touched my arm.
“Stay behind me.””
We entered carefully.
The living room was empty.
A half-finished cup of tea sat on the coffee table.
An overturned chair lay near the kitchen.
And on the floor beside the staircase was a photograph.
I picked it up.
It showed my mother holding three newborn babies.
Her face was tired but radiant.
On the back, someone had written:
*My three little miracles. Nia, Brielle, and Claire.*
My eyes filled.
I had never seen this photograph.
I had never even known it existed.
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Renee immediately called out.
“Eleanor?””
A woman's voice answered.
“Who's there?””
I looked up.
An older woman appeared at the top of the staircase.
Her silver hair was tied loosely behind her head. She wore a gray cardigan and held a small photograph in one hand.
She stared at me.
Then her lips trembled.
“Nia?””
I nodded.
She came down the stairs slowly.
When she reached me, she touched my cheek.
“You look exactly like your mother.””
I couldn't speak.
She pulled me into her arms.
For the first time in thirty years, someone from my mother's side of the family was holding me.
And I understood that the past wasn't simply a collection of old documents.
It was a wound that had never been allowed to heal.
After several minutes, Eleanor stepped back.
“You found the ledger?””
“Yes.””
She nodded.
“Then you know about Brielle.””
“Yes.””
“There's something I haven't told you.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She glanced toward Renee.
Then she reached into her cardigan and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a hospital identification bracelet.
The name printed on it was not Brielle.
It was *Baby Girl Hayes — Twin B.*
I frowned.
“Twin B?””
Eleanor nodded.
“Your mother gave birth to two girls first. You were born eleven minutes before Brielle.””
I stared at the bracelet.
“Then Claire was born when?””
“Six minutes after Brielle.””
I looked at her in disbelief.
“Three babies?””
“Yes.””
Eleanor took my hands.
“Your mother never stopped looking for all three of you.””
I looked down at the photograph.
Three children.
Three lives.
Three daughters separated by one man's greed.
Then Eleanor whispered:
“There's one more thing, Nia. Brielle knows the truth.””
My head snapped up.
“How?””
“Because Patricia told her years ago.””
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“Then why did she spend her life pretending she hated me?””
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“Because she was raised to believe you were the reason your mother died.””
Before I could answer, a car engine started outside.
Renee moved toward the window.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Its headlights were on.
The driver's face was hidden.
Eleanor grabbed my arm.
“They found me.””
Renee pulled out her phone.
“Security is on the way.””
The sedan suddenly accelerated.
It disappeared around the corner.
I turned toward Eleanor.
“Who was that?””
She looked terrified.
May you like
Then she said:
“Someone who works for the Carter family.””
