Chapter 4: The Man Waiting at St. Mary's
I read the message seventeen times.
Each time, the words became more frightening.
*Your brother was there when they tried to finish what they started.*
I stared at the photograph attached to it.
It showed me lying unconscious in a hospital bed, a breathing tube running beneath my nose. Beside the bed stood a young man with dark hair and a scar above his right eyebrow.
Daniel.
My missing brother.
I had never met him, yet something inside me recognized his face.
“Richard,” I whispered.
“Who took this picture?””
He examined the screen.
His expression darkened.
“This was taken during your accident.””
“How can you be sure?””
“The equipment in the background. That's the intensive care unit at St. Mary's.””
I looked at Ethan.
He was still standing beside the desk, his hands trembling.
“Did you know Daniel was there?””
Ethan shook his head.
“I swear I didn't.””
“You lied about everything else. Why should I believe you?””
He lowered his eyes.
“You shouldn't.””
Richard grabbed his jacket.
“We're going to St. Mary's.””
I looked at him.
“Thomas told me to come alone.””
Richard immediately shook his head.
“Absolutely not.””
“He might know something about my mother.””
“And he might be trying to put you in danger.””
“I've spent twenty-four years not knowing who I am. I'm not going to spend another day hiding.””
Richard studied my face.
Finally, he nodded.
“But you're not going alone.””
An hour later, we arrived at St. Mary's Hospital.
Rain tapped against the windows of Richard's black sedan. The hospital stood on a busy street, its emergency entrance illuminated by harsh white lights.
I had visited this building dozens of times after my accident.
I had never known it was connected to the biggest secret of my life.
Richard helped me through the automatic doors.
A nurse at reception looked up.
“Good evening. Can I help you?””
“I'm looking for the hospital administrator,” Richard said.
The nurse recognized his name.
Within minutes, a man in a gray suit approached us.
“Mr. Williams. I wasn't expecting you.””
“I'm looking for the archived records concerning Elizabeth Carter.””
The administrator's smile disappeared.
“I'm afraid those files are restricted.””
Richard placed a business card on the counter.
“Then I suggest you find someone authorized to release them.””
The man hesitated.
“Please follow me.””
We entered a small office behind the reception desk.
A computer screen displayed several old patient records.
The administrator typed for a few moments.
Then he frowned.
“That's strange.””
“What?”” I asked.
“The original maternity records have been transferred.””
“Transferred where?”” Richard demanded.
“According to the system, they were sent to the hospital's external medical archive seven years ago.””
“Who authorized it?””
The administrator clicked another tab.
His face changed.
“Thomas Carter.””
Richard slammed his hand against the desk.
“Of course.””
I leaned forward.
“Can you access the archive?””
The administrator hesitated.
“Not without special authorization.””
Richard stared at him.
“I'm her mother's brother.””
The man looked at me.
Then back at Richard.
“There's something else.””
He turned the monitor toward us.
An old photograph appeared.
It showed a hospital employee standing beside a newborn's crib.
The employee was a middle-aged woman wearing a blue uniform.
I recognized her immediately.
It was the nurse from the photograph Brianna had shown me.
But there was something different.
She was holding a baby.
A tiny bracelet was visible around the infant's wrist.
The administrator enlarged the image.
The bracelet read:
*BABY CARTER — FEMALE — ROOM 307.*
I felt my throat tighten.
“Who is she?””
The administrator checked the employee database.
“Margaret Hayes. She worked here until 2005.””
Richard looked at me.
“Margaret.””
My adoptive mother's name was Margaret.
But her surname had been Williams before she married James.
I shook my head.
“No. My mother never worked here.””
Richard leaned toward the screen.
“Are you sure?””
The administrator opened another document.
It contained a photograph of an employee identification card.
Margaret Hayes.
Date of birth.
Address.
I recognized the address.
It was the house where I had grown up.
My hands went cold.
“My adoptive mother was here the night I was born.””
Richard said nothing.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“Because she was the one who carried you out.””
We turned.
An elderly woman stood in the doorway.
Her silver hair was tied into a loose bun. She wore a beige cardigan and held a leather handbag against her chest.
I recognized her eyes.
They were the same eyes I had seen in the old hospital photograph.
“Margaret?”” I whispered.
She looked at me.
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart.””
Richard stood.
“Who are you?””
The woman swallowed.
“My name is Margaret Hayes.””
I stared at her.
“Why are you here?””
She stepped closer.
“Because I heard Thomas was looking for you.””
“Did you know my mother?””
Margaret began crying.
“Yes.””
“Did you take me from the hospital?””
She nodded.
“Your mother asked me to save you.””
I felt as though someone had struck me.
“Why?””
Margaret looked toward Richard.
“Because Elizabeth knew her brother was planning to steal the children.””
Richard's face went pale.
“What did Thomas do?””
Margaret opened her handbag.
She removed a small hospital bracelet.
It was yellowed with age.
The words were barely visible.
*BABY CARTER — FEMALE — ROOM 307.*
I reached for it.
My fingers brushed the plastic.
A tiny engraving appeared on the inside.
A crescent moon.
I touched the birthmark beneath my ear.
Margaret nodded.
“Your mother gave you that bracelet before she died.””
“Where is my brother's?””
Margaret's expression changed.
“I don't have it.””
“Who does?””
She looked directly at me.
Then she whispered:
“Daniel.””
Before I could ask another question, the lights in the office went out.
Someone screamed in the corridor.
Richard grabbed the wheelchair handles.
“Stay behind me!””
A heavy door slammed somewhere nearby.
Then a phone began ringing.
It wasn't mine.
It wasn't Richard's.
It was coming from Margaret's handbag.
She opened it with shaking hands.
The screen displayed a name.
*THOMAS CARTER.*
Margaret answered.
A man's voice filled the dark office.
“Hello, Margaret.””
She began trembling.
Thomas continued calmly.
“You've done enough damage.””
Margaret closed her eyes.
May you like
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Tell my niece that the man who raised her wasn't the only person who lied about her identity.””
