Chapter 8: The Second Flower
I called Vivian back seventeen times.
Every call went unanswered.
By the eighteenth attempt, I was shaking so badly that Brianna took the phone from my hand.
“We have to go.””
Marlene had joined us at the bank after I called her. She was standing near the private room door, listening carefully.
“Where is Jonathan's office?”” she asked.
“Whitmore Tower,” Brianna replied.
“Forty-second floor.””
Marlene looked at her.
“How do you know?””
“Adrian took me there last month.””
I turned toward her.
“You've been inside?””
She nodded.
“There's a private archive room. Adrian said his father kept the original collection there.””
I picked up the metal box.
“Then that's where we're going.””
Marlene blocked the doorway.
“Absolutely not.””
“Vivian may be in danger.””
“And walking into a building controlled by the people threatening you will help?””
“I can't leave her.””
Marlene studied my face.
Then she sighed.
“Fine. But we're not going in without help.””
She took out her phone and called someone.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in the office of an attorney named Samuel Reed.
He was in his forties, wore round glasses, and had a reputation for handling intellectual property disputes involving independent designers.
Marlene had worked with him years earlier.
After reading the documents from my father's safety deposit box, he removed his glasses.
“This is bigger than a family inheritance dispute.””
“Can you help us?”” I asked.
“I can help you preserve the evidence and prevent further transfers of the collection. But if Vivian has been taken, we need the police.””
I showed him the message from Jonathan.
He read it.
Then he looked at the photograph of the missing flower.
“Do you have the actual gown?””
I nodded.
“Not right now. It's at my mother's house.””
“Can you retrieve it?””
“Probably.””
Samuel leaned back.
“Then we need to do two things. First, establish a chain of custody for the original design. Second, find out what was hidden in that second flower.””
Brianna looked at him.
“Can we recover the document from Jonathan's office?””
Samuel shook his head.
“Not without authorization.””
I stood.
“Then I'll get authorization.””
He raised an eyebrow.
“How?””
I took out the photograph of the original Red Garden sketches.
“My grandmother created those designs. I have the original trust agreement, her handwritten notes, and the registration records.””
I placed everything on his desk.
“And I have the dress.””
Samuel studied the papers.
Then he smiled faintly.
“You may have enough to force a temporary preservation order.””
He immediately began preparing the filing.
While he worked, I called my mother.
She answered almost immediately.
“Nia?””
“Where is Jonathan?””
“I don't know.””
“Stop lying.””
“I swear.””
“Did you know about Dad's recording?””
Silence.
I continued.
“Did you know he suspected you were involved in the car tampering?””
My mother's breathing changed.
“Nia, where did you get that?””
“From Dad's safety deposit box.””
She began crying.
“Oh, God.””
“Mom, tell me the truth.””
“I didn't kill your father.””
“Then who did?””
“I don't know.””
“You transferred $480,000 to Jonathan six days before Dad died.””
She was silent.
Then she whispered, “That money wasn't mine.””
I closed my eyes.
“What?””
“Jonathan told me the money belonged to the Bellamy trust. He said it was payment for keeping the adoption records confidential.””
“Why would you need payment?””
“Because he threatened to expose the arrangement with Brianna.””
I looked at my sister.
She was listening carefully.
My mother continued.
“Your father found the transfer. He confronted me. I told him I hadn't stolen anything, but he didn't believe me.””
“Did you know someone had tampered with his car?””
“I knew he was afraid.””
“That's not what I asked.””
She started sobbing.
“The night before he died, I heard him on the phone. He said he had proof that Jonathan was planning something. He told the person on the other end that he was going to the police.””
My throat tightened.
“Who was he talking to?””
“I don't know.””
“Mom!””
“I heard him say one thing.””
“What?””
She whispered:
“Charles won't let you get away with this.””
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Brianna looked at me.
“Charles?””
I nodded.
Before we could discuss it, Samuel walked back into the room.
“I have an update.””
He held up his laptop.
“The court has granted an emergency preservation order. It prevents the Whitmore company from transferring, selling, or presenting any disputed Bellamy designs until the ownership claim is reviewed.””
I exhaled.
“That includes my gown?””
“Yes.””
“Good.””
Samuel looked at Brianna.
“There's something else. The adoption records you showed me are inconsistent. We need certified copies from the original hospital.””
Brianna nodded.
“Which hospital?””
“St. Mary's. The records department still has archived files.””
I looked at her.
“Come with me.””
We drove to the hospital with Marlene.
The records office was in the basement of the old building.
A clerk named Mrs. Patterson examined our documents.
“I'll need a few minutes.””
She disappeared into the archive room.
Brianna paced near the window.
“I can't believe all of this started with a dress.””
I looked at her.
“It didn't.””
She stopped.
“What do you mean?””
“It started thirty years ago. The dress just brought everything back.””
Brianna looked down.
“I really thought Adrian loved me.””
I didn't know what to say.
She sat beside me.
“He told me I was special. That I had the Bellamy bloodline and deserved something bigger than being an influencer.””
I stared at the floor.
“And he used that.””
She nodded.
“I was stupid.””
“You were manipulated.””
She looked at me.
“Can you forgive me?””
I took a breath.
“Not yet.””
Her eyes filled.
“But I want to understand what happened before I decide what comes next.””
She nodded slowly.
Mrs. Patterson returned carrying a thick folder.
“I'm sorry for the delay. These records are quite old.””
She placed the folder on the desk.
I opened it.
The first page showed Evelyn Carter's original delivery record.
Two babies.
Two birth times.
Two sets of identification numbers.
The second page contained the adoption documents.
One baby had been placed with Denise Carter.
The other had been placed under the temporary guardianship of Vivian Shaw.
I looked at the dates.
Then something caught my attention.
The hospital had recorded a correction to the birth records six months later.
The correction was signed by Jonathan Vale.
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Can I see the original version?””
Mrs. Patterson hesitated.
“Why?””
“Because this correction may have been fraudulent.””
She studied my expression.
Then she took the papers back.
After several minutes, she returned with a second document.
It was a handwritten amendment.
The original names had been crossed out.
And the new names written beneath them.
I read the first entry.
*Baby A: Nia Carter — biological parents: Thomas Whitmore and Margaret Bellamy.*
The second entry read:
*Baby B: Brianna Carter — biological parents: unknown.*
I looked at Brianna.
“Unknown?””
She shook her head.
“That can't be right.””
Mrs. Patterson pointed to a note.
“There's an attached explanation.””
I unfolded it.
The handwriting was Jonathan's.
*Biological parentage intentionally withheld pending legal settlement.*
My blood ran cold.
Jonathan hadn't simply altered the adoption records.
He had deliberately erased Brianna's identity.
And if the second baby wasn't Clara's daughter, then who was she?
Brianna read the document again.
Her face crumpled.
“So I might not even be a Bellamy?””
Nobody answered.
Then Mrs. Patterson said something unexpected.
“There's one more file.””
She retrieved a smaller envelope.
“This was attached to the original hospital records. It was marked confidential and wasn't included in the adoption transfer.””
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of two women.
One was Evelyn.
The other was Denise.
They stood beside a hospital bed.
A third woman lay beneath a white blanket.
I recognized her immediately.
Clara Bellamy.
But there was something else.
The photograph showed Denise holding a newborn baby.
And on the back, someone had written:
*Clara's daughter, Brianna. Delivered to Denise. The second child remains unidentified.*
I looked at the date.
March 1977.
My mother had been holding Brianna decades before either of us was supposed to have been born.
I stared at the document.
“That's impossible.””
Brianna was crying silently.
“Unless the dates were changed.””
Mrs. Patterson shook her head.
“The hospital's records were never altered. The original dates are correct.””
I looked at the photograph again.
Then the truth began to take shape.
The women in the picture were not holding newborn babies in 1977.
They were holding newborn babies from a different generation.
Someone had copied the photograph and attached it to the wrong records.
A deliberate fabrication.
I turned the picture over again.
At the bottom, almost hidden beneath the handwriting, was a small stamp.
*ARCHIVE COPY — 2000.*
I felt sick.
Someone had created a false historical record using a modern photograph.
Jonathan had manipulated the evidence.
But why?
My phone vibrated.
A message from Vivian.
*I'm alive. Don't come to the tower. The second flower is with Charles. And Nia, I need you to know something about your father.*
Another message appeared.
*He wasn't killed because of the Bellamy estate. He was killed because he discovered who switched the babies.*
I stared at the screen.
Then a final message arrived.
*The person who switched you and Brianna was your grandmother Evelyn.*
I felt the world stop.
My grandmother.
The woman who had taught me to sew.
The woman who told me nobody could take away what I knew how to create.
The woman whose secrets had started this entire nightmare.
I looked at Brianna.
She had read the message over my shoulder.
“Why would Grandma do that?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
My phone rang.
Vivian.
I answered.
“Nia, listen carefully. Evelyn didn't switch the babies to steal an inheritance. She switched them because one of them was in danger.””
“Which one?””
Vivian hesitated.
Then she said:
“Brianna.””
My sister covered her mouth.
Vivian continued.
“Clara's real daughter was being targeted by Charles. Evelyn switched the records to protect her. But Jonathan discovered what she had done.””
I swallowed.
“So who am I?””
“You're Margaret's biological granddaughter through Thomas. But Brianna…”
Vivian's voice broke.
“Brianna isn't Clara's daughter.””
I looked at my sister.
“Then whose daughter is she?””
Vivian took a shaky breath.
“She's Jonathan Vale's.””
The call ended.
Brianna stared at me.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she whispered:
“He's my father?””
I couldn't answer.
Because suddenly, the reason Adrian had pursued her became terrifyingly clear.
He wasn't simply trying to marry into the Bellamy family.
May you like
He was helping his own family recover something they had lost.
And Brianna was the key.
