Chapter 8: The Lawyer's Daughter
I stared at the phone long after Arthur Bennett hung up.
Patricia was crying. Rebecca had gone pale. Daniel stood by the window, looking out at the street as if he expected someone to appear.
But I could hear only one sentence.
It was your mother.
My mother had already confessed to paying Patricia. She had admitted helping conceal the baby's identity. I knew she had lied to me for seventeen years.
But Arthur's words suggested something worse.
That Laura hadn't merely followed my father's orders.
That she had made a decision of her own.
I called her.
She answered on the second ring.
“Emily?””
“Did you change my identity?””
Silence.
“Mom, answer me.””
“I did what I thought was right.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“That's not an answer.””
“I signed the papers, Emily. I changed the date on your birth certificate. I asked Patricia to help me.””
“Why?””
“Because I wanted you to stay.””
“You already had me! You were raising me!””
“I was afraid Michael would take you away if I didn't do what he asked.””
“Then why didn't you leave him?””
She began crying.
“Because I believed him when he said he would destroy us both.””
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
Fear.
Always fear.
I was beginning to understand that fear had been the most powerful person in our family. It had controlled every decision, every lie, every silence.
But it had never forced anyone to do anything.
They had all chosen what to do with it.
“I'm coming home,” I said.
“And you're going to tell me everything.””
By the time we returned to our house, the rain had stopped.
The living room camera was still blinking above the television.
My father sat on the sofa with his elbows on his knees. My mother stood near the fireplace, holding a glass of water she hadn't touched.
Arthur Bennett was there, too.
He was a silver-haired man in an immaculate navy suit, with polished shoes and a leather briefcase resting beside his chair. He looked less like a villain than the kind of lawyer who appeared on television to explain why a powerful person had done nothing wrong.
When he saw me enter, he stood.
“Emily. I'm glad you're back.””
I dropped Patricia's folder onto the coffee table.
“Don't pretend you care about me.””
Arthur's smile disappeared.
“I understand you're upset.””
“You forged my identity.””
“I corrected a complicated legal situation.””
“You made a dead baby disappear under my name.””
He adjusted his cuff.
“I was attempting to protect the interests of everyone involved.””
“Everyone except the women whose children were taken from them.””
My father stood.
“Emily, enough.””
I turned toward him.
“You don't get to interrupt me anymore.””
Arthur raised one hand.
“Perhaps we should all calm down.””
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“You've been telling people to calm down for seventeen years while you bury evidence.””
Arthur looked at him.
“Daniel, your emotional involvement makes it difficult for you to see the situation clearly.””
“My sister is dead.””
“And that is precisely why you should be careful about making accusations you cannot substantiate.””
I placed the original nursery log in front of him.
“Then explain this.””
Arthur glanced at the page.
His expression barely changed.
“An old hospital document proves very little.””
“What about this letter?””
I laid out the letter my father had written before my birth.
Arthur read it in silence.
Then he folded his hands.
“Michael was considering several possible arrangements for the child. Nothing in this letter proves that he intended anyone harm.””
I stared at him.
“‘Once Elena is gone, no one will have a legal claim to the child.’ What did he mean by that?””
Arthur looked toward my father.
Michael's face was gray.
“It's being taken out of context,” he said.
“What context makes that sentence acceptable?””
Neither man answered.
My mother finally spoke.
“I can explain.””
I turned toward her.
“Then explain.””
She set down the glass.
“Arthur came to me before you were born. He told me Elena had been involved with Daniel and that the two of them were fighting over what would happen to the baby.””
Daniel shook his head.
“That isn't true.””
“I know that now,” Laura whispered.
She looked at me.
“Michael told me Elena was unstable. He said she had threatened to disappear with you and never let anyone see you again. Arthur told me the hospital could arrange an adoption, but only if Elena's parental rights were terminated.””
“Was that legal?””
“No.””
The answer was immediate.
Arthur's jaw tightened.
Laura continued.
“I wanted to believe it was legal. I wanted to believe Elena had agreed. I wanted to believe I wasn't taking something that belonged to someone else.””
I looked at her.
“And when you learned she hadn't agreed?””
She lowered her eyes.
“I was already attached to you. I was holding you every night. You would curl your fingers around mine, and I couldn't imagine letting you go.””
“So you chose yourself.””
She nodded.
“Yes.””
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked, “Did you know Elena was alive when you signed the papers?””
My mother looked at Arthur.
He gave her a warning glance.
She ignored it.
“Yes,” she whispered.
My chest tightened.
“You knew she was alive, and you still signed?””
“Yes.””
“Did you know Dad had left her injured on the road?””
She shook her head.
“No. I didn't know that until tonight.””
I wanted to believe her.
I also knew that believing someone wasn't the same as knowing the truth.
Arthur picked up his briefcase.
“I think this conversation has gone far enough.””
Daniel moved to block the door.
“Sit down.””
Arthur's face hardened.
“You have no authority to detain me.””
“I'm not detaining you. I'm asking you to explain why you forged a hospital document.””
“I didn't forge anything.””
I opened the folder and showed him the nursery log.
“Your signature is on the authorization.””
Arthur glanced at it.
“That signature could have been copied by anyone.””
“Then why did you call me?””
He went still.
I continued.
“You knew what I found. You knew where I was. You knew what was in Patricia's folder before I told you.””
Arthur's expression became colder.
“Your father informed me that you had obtained confidential records.””
“Which means he called you.””
“Yes.””
“And you knew about the forged signature because you were involved.””
Arthur closed his briefcase.
“I'm not going to answer any more questions.””
He reached for the door.
Then Rebecca spoke.
“Before you leave, you should know that Patricia has agreed to give a statement to the police.””
Arthur stopped.
For the first time, his confidence cracked.
“She has no credibility.””
“She has the original nursery log,” Rebecca said.
“And she kept copies of every payment you made to her.””
Arthur looked at my father.
Michael stared back at him.
Something passed between them.
Not fear.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
They had been partners in the secret for so long that neither could escape without exposing the other.
Arthur turned to me.
“You don't understand what you're doing. If you pursue this, you could lose everything.””
I met his eyes.
“I already lost the family I thought I had.””
He opened the door.
Then he paused.
“One final thing, Emily. If you're determined to investigate your birth, you should ask your mother why she kept a photograph of Catherine Brooks in your baby album.””
He left before I could respond.
I turned toward Laura.
Her face had gone white.
“What photograph?””
She didn't move.
I walked to the bookshelf and pulled down the baby album she had kept in a white box since I was little.
I opened it on the coffee table.
There were photographs of my first bath, my first Christmas, and my first steps. My mother had written little notes beneath each one.
Our beautiful girl.
Daddy's favorite.
The day we brought Emily home.
I turned the pages slowly.
Near the back, a photograph had been tucked into a plastic sleeve.
It showed a young woman sitting in a hospital bed, holding a newborn baby.
Catherine Brooks.
I recognized her from the photograph Daniel had shown me earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
For Laura, in case the arrangement changes.
The handwriting belonged to Arthur Bennett.
I looked up.
“Why was this in my baby album?””
My mother sat down heavily.
“Because Arthur gave it to me.””
“Why?””
She stared at the photograph.
“He told me that if anything went wrong, I would need proof that Catherine had agreed to the arrangement.””
“But she never agreed.””
“No.””
“Then why keep it?””
My mother's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was afraid that someday someone would ask me to prove I hadn't stolen you.””
I stared at her.
“You kept evidence of your own crime?””
She shook her head.
“I kept evidence of the lie I was telling myself.””
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I closed the album.
“I'm done.””
I walked toward the stairs.
Behind me, my father said, “Emily, please. Don't go.””
I stopped.
“Why?””
“Because I love you.””
I turned.
“Then tell me the truth about Elena.””
He looked at my mother.
She shook her head, silently pleading with him.
But Michael finally seemed to understand that the truth would come out whether he spoke or not.
He sat down.
“Arthur told me Elena had been meeting with someone from the hospital administration. He said she had proof that the adoption papers were forged. He said she planned to expose us.””
“Who was she meeting?””
“I never found out.””
“Then why did you go to see her that night?””
“Because she called me. She said she had the original birth records, and she was going to give them to Daniel.””
“Did you hurt her?””
He stared at his hands.
“I grabbed her arm. She pulled away. She ran toward the road.””
“And you left her there.””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you call an ambulance?””
“I did call. Then I panicked and canceled it.””
“Why?””
He swallowed.
“Because I saw someone else at the scene.””
My heart began pounding.
“Who?””
My father looked directly at me.
“Arthur Bennett.””
The room went silent.
“He told me Elena was already dead,” Michael continued.
“He said he'd take care of everything. He told me to go home and say nothing.””
Rebecca stood abruptly.
“That can't be true. The dispatch records show Michael made the cancellation call.””
“I made the call,” Michael replied.
“But Arthur told me what to say.””
I stared at him.
“Was Elena dead when you left?””
“I don't know.””
“Did Arthur hurt her?””
Michael closed his eyes.
“I don't know.””
The uncertainty was unbearable.
Seventeen years of lies, and still no one could tell me exactly what had happened to my mother.
Then Daniel's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
“It's Catherine.””
He answered and put it on speaker.
Her voice was urgent.
“Daniel, I've found something in the documents my investigator gave me. Something that changes everything.””
“What is it?”” I asked.
Catherine hesitated.
Then she said, “The baby buried under my daughter's name wasn't the only infant who died at St. Mary's that night.””
I gripped the edge of the table.
“What do you mean?””
Catherine's breathing grew uneven.
“There was another death. A newborn boy. His records were sealed by Arthur Bennett.””
My father stood so abruptly that his chair fell backward.
“No.””
I turned toward him.
“Dad?””
He stared at the phone.
Catherine continued.
“The investigator found the boy's original death certificate. His mother was never identified.””
My father backed away from the table.
Then he whispered something that made my mother collapse onto the sofa.
“That's impossible.””
Daniel looked at him.
“Michael, who was the boy?””
My father didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“Dad, who was he?””
My father lifted his eyes to mine.
And for the first time that night, I saw something more terrible than guilt.
May you like
I saw grief.
“The baby boy,” he whispered, “was your brother.””
