Chapter 5: The Secret My Mother Buried
I read the sentence until the words stopped looking like words.
Do not release until Emily knows the truth about her birth.
My mother had written that.
My mother, who used to kiss my forehead every night and tell me I was her greatest creation.
My mother, whose last gift I had spent years dreaming of wearing.
My mother, who had died when I was twelve.
What truth about my birth could she possibly have hidden from me?
"Emily?""
My father's voice sounded far away.
I held out my phone.
He read the message.
Then he read it again.
The expression on his face changed so quickly that I almost stepped backward.
"Where did you get this?""
"Someone sent it to me.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
He took my phone and enlarged the photograph.
"That's Elena's handwriting.""
"I know.""
His jaw tightened.
"Where is the notebook now?""
"With Samantha, according to Victoria.""
Dad looked toward the couch.
Victoria was standing beside it, clutching her purse.
"Did you know about this?"" he demanded.
She shook her head.
"I never saw that page.""
"But you saw the letter.""
"I told you, I only saw my name!""
"Why didn't you tell me about it before?""
"Because Samantha told me not to!""
I stared at her.
"You listened to Samantha instead of telling my father that his daughter's inheritance was being stolen?""
Victoria's expression hardened.
"Don't speak to me like that.""
"Why? Because I'm finally asking questions you don't want to answer?""
She took a step toward me.
"Your mother was not the saint you think she was.""
Dad's face went rigid.
"Be very careful, Victoria.""
"I'm telling the truth.""
"Then tell it.""
She looked at me.
For a moment, I thought she might finally reveal something real.
Instead, she shook her head.
"Not like this.""
Dad picked up his keys.
"Then we're going to find Samantha.""
I followed him outside.
The October air was cold enough to sting my cheeks. A thin rain had begun falling, making the driveway shine beneath the porch lights.
Dad unlocked his car.
Before I got in, I looked back at the house.
For most of my life, it had been the place where Mom's absence hurt the most. Her favorite chair remained by the window. Her books were still arranged on the shelves. Dad had kept her sewing room exactly as she had left it, with spools of thread in glass jars and fabric folded into neat stacks.
After Victoria moved in, she called the sewing room impractical.
She wanted to turn it into a guest bedroom.
Dad refused.
Now I wondered whether Victoria had wanted that room cleared because she knew what was hidden inside it.
"Emily," Dad called.
I got into the car.
He drove toward downtown, following the location of Samantha's last message. I sat beside him, scrolling through the photographs Margaret had sent me of the completed dress.
One image showed the gown before the final pearls were sewn into the waist.
Another showed Mom's original sketch.
At the bottom, in tiny handwriting, she had added a note:
For my daughter, whose heart will always know what is true.
I pressed the phone against my chest.
"What if she was trying to tell me something?"" I asked.
Dad kept his eyes on the road.
"Then we'll find out what it was.""
"Did Mom ever tell you she was worried about me?""
"No.""
"Did she ever talk about Victoria?""
He hesitated.
"Not often.""
"Why?""
"Because they weren't close.""
I turned toward him.
"What does that mean?""
Dad exhaled.
"Your mother and Victoria knew each other before either of them married. They weren't friends, exactly, but they moved in some of the same professional circles.""
"Victoria knew Mom before you met her?""
"Yes.""
"Why have you never told me that?""
He glanced at me.
"Because it never seemed relevant.""
I stared at him.
"Apparently, it was relevant enough for Mom to write about her in a secret letter.""
He gripped the steering wheel.
"I know.""
We drove in silence for several minutes.
Then he spoke again.
"Emily, I need you to understand something. Whatever we find tonight, your mother loved you. Nothing in that notebook can change that.""
I looked out the window.
"I know she loved me.""
"Then don't let anyone convince you otherwise.""
His voice cracked on the last word.
I reached across the console and squeezed his hand.
"I won't.""
We found Samantha outside a closed restaurant near the river.
She stood beneath the awning, wearing a cream coat and holding her phone in both hands. Her hair was wet from the rain. A black SUV was parked at the curb beside her.
Two men stood near the vehicle.
When Samantha saw our car, she stepped away from them.
"Dad!""
My father parked and got out.
"What are you doing here?""
Samantha ran toward him.
"They said they were going to take everything!""
"Who said that?""
She pointed toward the men.
One of them approached us.
"Mr. Carter? My name is Paul Mercer. I represent the lending group that purchased the debt.""
Dad's eyes narrowed.
"Richard Hayes said his client was willing to suspend enforcement.""
"That was before we learned Ms. Reed had additional documents.""
Samantha clutched her bag.
"I didn't know what they meant!""
Paul looked at her.
"Ms. Reed, you signed the agreement.""
"I thought I was signing a preliminary authorization.""
"You signed a loan contract.""
"Nobody explained the terms!""
"You were represented by counsel.""
"I never had a lawyer!""
Paul opened a folder.
"Your signature is on the acknowledgment.""
Samantha looked at me as if I were responsible.
"Emily, please. Tell them I didn't mean to do anything wrong.""
I stared at her.
"You stole my mother's notebook.""
"I borrowed it!""
"You used it to get money.""
"I was going to pay it back!""
"With what?""
She looked away.
I stepped closer.
"Why did you destroy the dress?""
Her eyes flashed.
"That has nothing to do with this.""
"It has everything to do with this. You took scissors to something you knew was precious to me. You did it because you wanted to hurt me.""
Samantha's chin trembled.
"I was angry.""
"About what?""
She glanced at Dad, then at the two men.
"Can we talk somewhere else?""
"No," I said.
"You wanted everyone to see you destroy my mother's dress. You can explain yourself here.""
Her face twisted.
"You always have to make yourself the victim.""
I felt the old instinct rise in me: to defend myself, to explain my pain, to make her understand.
Then I remembered the photograph.
The truth about her birth.
I took out my phone and showed her the image.
Samantha's expression changed.
The color drained from her face.
"Where did you get that?""
"Someone sent it to me.""
She stared at the screen.
Then she whispered, "You weren't supposed to see that.""
My father stepped forward.
"Tell us what you found in the notebook.""
Samantha shook her head.
"I can't.""
"You can," Dad said.
"And you will.""
She began to cry.
"I didn't know it was going to turn into this!""
"What did you find?"" I demanded.
She wiped her face with her sleeve.
"The letter was inside the back cover. It was folded into a pocket. I wasn't even looking for it at first.""
"Then why did you take the notebook?""
"Because I thought there might be something valuable in it.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who told you that?""
Samantha hesitated.
Then she looked at Victoria, who had arrived in another car and was hurrying toward us.
"Mom.""
Victoria stopped walking.
"Samantha, don't.""
Samantha stared at her.
"You told me the designs were worth money. You told me we could use them to fix everything.""
Victoria's mouth fell open.
"That is not what I said.""
"You said Elena had left behind a collection that could make us rich!""
Paul Mercer interrupted.
"Are you admitting that the collateral was obtained without authorization?""
Samantha looked at him.
"I didn't know I wasn't allowed to use it.""
Dad's voice was sharp.
"You knew it wasn't yours.""
She lowered her head.
For a moment, the rain was the only sound.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a small black notebook.
My heart lurched.
It was old, its leather cover worn along the edges. A faded label was attached to the front.
ELENA CARTER — PRIVATE DESIGNS.
I took one step toward it.
Samantha pulled it back.
"Not yet.""
I stared at her.
"Give it to me.""
"You don't understand.""
"Then explain.""
She opened the notebook to the back cover.
A folded envelope was tucked inside.
My mother's handwriting was visible across the front.
For Emily. Only if she begins to question where she came from.
I reached for it.
Samantha held it tighter.
"Before you read it, you need to know something.""
Dad stepped forward.
"Let her have the letter.""
Samantha shook her head.
"No. She needs to know why Mom—"
She stopped.
My heart began pounding.
"Why your mother what?""
Samantha's eyes filled with tears.
Then she looked at Victoria.
"Why Mom was so afraid of Elena.""
Victoria lunged toward the notebook.
Samantha jerked backward.
The envelope slipped from her fingers and landed in a puddle.
I dropped to my knees and snatched it up.
The paper was damp, but the writing remained legible.
I opened the envelope with shaking hands.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
My mother had written only six sentences.
My dearest Emily,
If you are reading this, someone has finally decided that the truth can no longer remain buried.
Your father loves you, and he has never questioned that you are his daughter.
But there is one person in this family who knows the secret I carried to my grave.
Her name is Victoria Reed.
Before you trust anything she tells you, ask her what happened on the night you were born.
I looked up.
Victoria was standing beneath the awning, her face completely white.
Dad stared at the letter.
Then he turned toward his wife.
"Victoria," he said quietly, "what happened on the night Emily was born?""
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Samantha began sobbing.
And then the black SUV's rear door opened.
A woman stepped out, holding a second envelope.
She looked at me with wet eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I should have come forward years ago.""
Paul Mercer turned toward her.
"Who are you?""
The woman ignored him.
She walked straight toward me and placed the envelope in my hand.
"My name is Dr. Rebecca Collins. I was a nurse at St. Mary's Hospital the night your mother gave birth.""
I stared at her.
May you like
She swallowed.
"And I was there when they switched the babies.""
