Chapter 8: The Child Who Was Never Supposed to Exist
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not because I couldn’t.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same things.
My husband standing outside a hospital.
A newborn baby wrapped in my mother’s blanket.
My mother’s handwriting saying three words that changed everything.
*Not his daughter.*
The phrase followed me through every room of Rachel’s house.
It followed me while I sat on the couch.
While I drank water.
While I tried to convince my body to rest before giving birth.
My daughter was coming soon.
My life had already changed.
But somehow, I knew the biggest truth was still waiting.
At 4:17 in the morning, my phone lit up.
I expected Derek.
Instead, it was a message from an unknown number.
*You deserve to know what happened before you give birth.*
I stared at it.
Another message appeared.
*Meet me at St. Catherine’s Hospital. Alone.*
My heart raced.
St. Catherine’s.
The hospital in the photograph.
The hospital connected to my mother.
The hospital where Derek had been standing.
I sat up.
My hand went to my stomach.
A strong movement.
My daughter.
A reminder that I couldn’t keep running from the truth.
I walked into the kitchen.
Rachel was already there.
She was sitting at the table with two untouched cups of coffee.
She looked like she hadn’t slept either.
“Who texted you?””
I stopped.
“How did you know?””
She looked at my phone.
“Because you have the same expression you had when Mom died.””
The words hurt.
I looked away.
“I got a message.””
“From who?””
“I don’t know.””
Rachel stood.
“What did it say?””
I hesitated.
Then I showed her.
Her face changed immediately.
“No.””
“What?””
“You can’t go.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
“Because it could be a trap.””
I looked at her.
“A trap?””
“Emma, think about it.””
“I am.””
“Someone has been sending you information all night.””
“Yes.””
“Someone who knows things about Derek.””
“Yes.””
“Someone who knows about Mom.””
“Yes.””
“So why would they suddenly ask you to meet them alone?””
I stared at the message.
Because she was right.
But there was something else.
Something Rachel didn’t understand.
I needed answers.
Not theories.
Not warnings.
Not people deciding what I could handle.
“I’m going.””
“Emma.””
“No.””
My voice was calm.
“I’m done being protected.””
Rachel looked at me.
I continued.
“I was protected from the truth about Derek.””
I touched the bracelet on the table.
“I was protected from the truth about Mom.””
I looked at her.
“I was protected from my own life.””
Tears filled her eyes.
“I was trying to help.””
“I know.””
And that was the hardest part.
Everyone had good intentions.
Everyone still hurt me.
“I need to know.””
Rachel was quiet.
Then she nodded.
“I’ll drive you.””
“No.””
“Emma.””
“If someone wants me alone, I’m going alone.””
“That’s dangerous.””
I looked at her.
“So is trusting people who keep secrets.””
The words hurt her.
They hurt me too.
But they were true.
An hour later, I stood outside St. Catherine’s Hospital.
The same building from the photograph.
The same place where my husband had hidden pieces of his life.
The same place connected to the last night my mother was alive.
I walked inside.
The smell hit me immediately.
Antiseptic.
Coffee.
Old memories.
Hospitals all smelled the same.
Like beginnings and endings happening at the same time.
I approached the front desk.
“Can I help you?””
The nurse smiled politely.
“I’m looking for someone.””
“Name?””
I hesitated.
Then said:
“Lauren Hayes.””
The nurse typed.
A few seconds later, her expression changed.
“You’re family?””
I swallowed.
“No.””
The nurse studied me.
Then looked back at the screen.
“She’s not here anymore.””
My heart dropped.
“Where is she?””
“She transferred.””
“When?””
“Six months ago.””
My hands tightened.
“Where?””
The nurse looked uncertain.
“I’m not supposed to give out information.””
“I understand.””
I paused.
“But I need to know something.””
The nurse looked at me.
“Was she here with a baby?””
The woman’s expression softened.
“Yes.””
My chest tightened.
“What happened?””
The nurse looked around.
Then lowered her voice.
“The baby was placed with family.””
“What family?””
She hesitated.
“Her mother.””
Not Derek.
Not Lauren’s husband.
Her mother.
The relief was strange.
Because it meant the baby wasn’t living a hidden life somewhere.
But it didn’t answer anything.
“Can I see the records?””
“No.””
“Please.””
“I’m sorry.””
I turned away.
Then a voice behind me said:
“Emma?””
I froze.
I knew that voice.
I turned around.
Megan stood there.
My stomach dropped.
“What are you doing here?””
Her face was pale.
“I followed you.””
Anger flashed through me.
“You followed me?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I knew you would come.””
I stared at her.
“How?””
“Because you’re just like your mother.””
The words stopped me.
“What?””
Megan stepped closer.
“She never stopped searching for the truth either.””
My heart started pounding.
“You knew my mother?””
“No.””
“Then why say that?””
“Because Derek told me.””
I felt sick.
“Derek knew my mother?””
Megan looked down.
“Yes.””
“Everyone knew.””
She didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
“Tell me.””
Megan looked around.
Then whispered:
“Your mother found out about Lauren’s baby before anyone else.””
My breath caught.
“How?””
“Because Lauren called her.””
I froze.
“Why would Lauren call my mother?””
Megan looked at me.
“Because the baby wasn’t Derek’s.””
The hallway seemed to tilt.
“What?””
“The baby wasn’t Derek’s.””
I stared at her.
“But the bracelet…”
“I know.””
“The picture…”
“I know.””
“The blanket…”
“I know.””
My voice became desperate.
“Then what does it mean?””
Megan swallowed.
“It means Derek was hiding something else.””
“What?””
She looked at me.
“Derek thought the baby was his.””
I didn’t understand.
“But you said—”
“I said the baby wasn’t his.””
“Then why did he get a paternity test?””
“Because he was afraid.””
“Afraid of what?””
Megan looked toward the hospital rooms.
“Afraid he had spent years believing a lie.””
My heart pounded.
“What are you saying?””
She took a deep breath.
“Lauren had a baby with another man.””
“Who?””
Megan looked at me.
And the answer made my entire body go cold.
“Someone Derek knew.””
“Who?””
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Your father.””
The world stopped.
I couldn’t hear anything.
My father.
A man who had died when I was young.
A man whose face I barely remembered.
“No.””
Megan nodded slowly.
“I know.””
“That’s impossible.””
“I thought so too.””
“How?””
“Because Derek found out.””
I stepped back.
My hand went to the wall.
“My father had a child with Lauren?””
“Yes.””
“But why would Derek care?””
“Because Derek knew your father.””
I stared at her.
“How?””
Megan’s eyes filled with sadness.
“Because before you met Derek…”
She stopped.
“Before I met him?””
“Yes.””
“What?””
Megan looked at me.
“Derek worked for your father.””
I felt dizzy.
“No.””
“He was your father’s assistant.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Emma.””
“No.””
Because suddenly my entire life was connected.
Derek.
My mother.
Lauren.
The hospital.
The baby.
My father.
Everything.
“How did I meet Derek then?””
Megan whispered:
“He didn’t meet you by accident.””
The words hit me.
“What does that mean?””
She looked away.
“It means Derek already knew who you were.””
I stared at her.
My heart stopped.
The man I married.
The man who promised me love.
The man who held me while I cried.
The man who said he found me by chance.
Maybe he hadn’t.
My phone buzzed.
A new message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
One sentence.
*Now ask Megan why Derek married you.*
I looked at Megan.
Her face had gone completely white.
“Emma…”
My voice shook.
“Was my marriage a lie?””
Megan didn’t answer.
And after everything I had learned…
I finally understood.
The biggest secret was never about another woman.
May you like
It was never about another baby.
It was about why Derek chose me in the first place.
