Chapter 7: The Baby Nobody Was Supposed to Know About
“Ask your sister what happened to the baby.””
I read the message three times.
The photograph attached to it showed Catherine standing beside Victoria outside what appeared to be a private medical facility. Both women were wearing dark coats. Catherine was holding a white envelope.
The timestamp was from that evening.
My sister had told me she was in London.
She had lied.
“Dad?””
James stood beside the police vehicle, watching my face.
“What happened?””
I showed him the message.
He read it silently.
Then he looked up.
“Mom had another baby?””
“I don't know.””
“But you said—”
“I know what I said.””
My voice came out harsher than I intended.
James stepped back.
I immediately regretted it.
I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I'm sorry. I'm trying to understand this myself.””
Daniel approached us, pressing a handkerchief against the cut above his eyebrow.
“Sir, the police want to take a statement.””
“Tell them I'll cooperate. But first, I need to make a call.””
I dialed Catherine.
She answered after two rings.
“Richard?””
“Where are you?””
Silence.
“Catherine, don't lie to me again.””
“I can explain.””
“Where are you?””
“Connecticut.””
I closed my eyes.
“You told me you were in London.””
“I was supposed to return next week.””
“Then why are you standing beside Victoria in a photograph taken tonight?””
She started crying.
“Please, Richard. Not over the phone.””
“Why did you say Eleanor had a baby?””
A long silence followed.
Then Catherine whispered:
“Because she did.””
I felt the cold night air against my face.
“When?””
“Seventeen years ago.””
I looked at James.
He was staring at me.
“What happened to the child?”” I asked.
Catherine's breathing became uneven.
“Eleanor gave birth to a little girl.””
My knees nearly buckled.
“A girl?””
“Yes.””
“Where is she?””
“I don't know.””
“You don't know?””
“I was told she died.””
“Who told you?””
Catherine began sobbing.
“Victoria.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“Catherine, listen to me. If you're protecting her, I will never forgive you.””
“I'm not protecting her anymore.””
“Then tell me everything.””
She hesitated.
“Meet me tomorrow morning. Alone.””
“No.””
“Richard, please.””
“You've had seventeen years to tell me the truth. You're not getting another opportunity to control this conversation.””
I ended the call.
James looked at me.
“Dad, do I have a sister?””
I couldn't answer.
Not because I didn't want to.
Because I was beginning to understand that almost everything I believed about my family had been built on information someone else had chosen to give me.
We returned home shortly before midnight.
Margaret was waiting in the library.
She rushed toward James and wrapped her arms around him.
“Thank God.””
James hugged her.
“I'm okay.””
Margaret looked at the cut on Daniel's forehead.
“What happened?””
“Jonathan had company,” I replied.
I placed the photograph of Catherine and Victoria on the desk.
Margaret stared at it.
“Catherine?””
“You recognize her?””
Margaret slowly nodded.
“I haven't seen her in years.””
“Did you know Eleanor had a daughter?””
Margaret's face changed.
She looked at James.
Then back at me.
“Yes.””
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“You knew?””
“Eleanor told me shortly before she died.””
James stepped forward.
“Why didn't you tell us?””
Margaret looked devastated.
“Because Eleanor made me promise to protect the child.””
“Where is she?”” I demanded.
“I don't know her current whereabouts.””
“Who took her?””
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Victoria arranged the adoption.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“Eleanor was heavily medicated when she gave birth. She had been told the baby was premature and needed immediate specialist care.””
Margaret wiped her eyes.
“Victoria handled the paperwork. She told Eleanor that the little girl had developed complications and died shortly after birth.””
James shook his head.
“But the baby survived?””
Margaret nodded.
“Yes.””
I walked to the window.
My daughter had been alive.
Somewhere.
For seventeen years.
And I hadn't known she existed.
“Why would Eleanor hide this from me?”” I asked.
Margaret approached slowly.
“She didn't hide it willingly. She was terrified.””
“Of what?””
“Jonathan had discovered that the baby might be his. Victoria wanted the child because the existence of another Whitmore heir complicated the trust.””
I turned.
“Why?””
“Because the original agreement had provisions for all of Eleanor's children. If the girl survived, the inheritance would be divided.””
I stared at her.
“Victoria wanted the entire trust.””
“Yes.””
James looked at the family photograph on the mantelpiece.
“So she took my sister?””
Margaret nodded.
“And Eleanor spent the rest of her life trying to find her.””
I felt something break inside me.
“Did she ever find her?””
Margaret shook her head.
“No. But she left something for her.””
She opened her handbag and removed a small silver key.
“Eleanor gave me this three days before she died.””
“What does it open?””
“A safety deposit box.””
“Where?””
“Greenwich Federal Bank.””
I took the key.
“What's inside?””
Margaret looked toward James.
“A letter. And something that could identify your daughter.””
At 8:30 the following morning, I arrived at the bank with Margaret and James.
The manager led us into a private room.
He examined the key, checked the identification documents, and returned with a small metal box.
I placed it on the table.
My hands were shaking.
Inside were three items.
A folded letter.
A hospital bracelet.
And a photograph.
I picked up the bracelet first.
It was pink.
The name written across it was barely visible.
Baby Whitmore.
Below that was a date.
October 19.
I looked at the photograph.
Eleanor was holding a newborn baby wrapped in a white blanket.
She was exhausted, but she was smiling.
On the back, she had written:
My beautiful daughter. I will find you. I promise.
James began crying.
I opened the letter.
Richard,
If you are reading this, I have failed to bring our daughter home.
I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted you to hold her and tell her how beautiful she was. But I was afraid that if you knew, Jonathan would use her against us.
Victoria has convinced everyone that our little girl died. She is lying.
The baby was healthy when they took her from me.
I heard her crying.
I begged them to let me hold her, but they said I was confused.
Please find our daughter.
Her name is Grace.
I chose it because I wanted her to have a life filled with kindness, even if I could not be there to give it to her.
I stopped reading.
James covered his mouth.
Margaret was crying silently.
I continued.
There is one person who knows where she went. Catherine.
I trusted my sister. I believed she would protect the baby.
But I discovered that she had signed the final document.
I don't know why she did it.
I don't know whether she was threatened or whether she believed Victoria.
All I know is that I am running out of time.
Richard, if you find Grace, please tell her that her mother never abandoned her.
And tell her that her father wanted her.
The letter slipped from my fingers.
James picked it up carefully.
“Grace,” he whispered.
I looked at the photograph again.
My daughter.
A child I had never held.
A girl who had spent seventeen birthdays without knowing that somewhere, a father was searching for her.
I took out my phone.
“Call Catherine.””
Margaret did.
She answered immediately.
“Hello?””
I put her on speaker.
“Catherine, we're at the bank. We found Eleanor's letter.””
She began crying.
“Richard, I'm sorry.””
“Where is Grace?””
“I don't know.””
“Stop lying.””
“I'm not!””
“Eleanor wrote that you signed the adoption documents.””
Catherine's breathing became shallow.
“I did what Victoria told me.””
“Why?””
“Because she said the baby would be safe. She told me Jonathan would take her if I didn't cooperate.””
I closed my eyes.
“Where did they send her?””
Catherine hesitated.
Then she said:
“Westbridge Children's Home.””
I looked at Margaret.
She nodded slowly.
“I remember that name.””
Catherine continued.
“But Richard, there's something else.””
“What?””
“Grace wasn't adopted by a stranger.””
My heart pounded.
“Who adopted her?””
Catherine whispered:
“Victoria's mother.””
The line went silent.
I stared at the phone.
Victoria's mother had died eleven years ago.
Which meant Grace had been placed with someone who was no longer alive.
“Catherine, what happened after Victoria's mother died?””
“I don't know. Victoria told me the girl had been moved to another family.””
“Which family?””
“I never found out.””
I gripped the phone.
“Why did you wait seventeen years?””
Catherine began crying harder.
“Because Victoria threatened to expose something about me.””
“What?””
She whispered:
“Richard, I wasn't just involved in the adoption.””
I leaned closer.
“What else did you do?””
Her next words were almost inaudible.
“I helped her change Eleanor's medication records.””
The call disconnected.
I stared at the screen.
James looked at me.
“Dad?””
I slowly put the phone down.
“Your aunt knows what happened to your mother.””
Margaret picked up the hospital bracelet.
“Then we need to find Grace before Victoria does.””
I turned toward her.
“Why?””
Margaret pointed to a handwritten note at the bottom of Eleanor's letter.
I hadn't noticed it before.
If Grace is ever found, tell her the truth about the blood test.
I frowned.
“What blood test?””
Margaret looked frightened.
“I don't know.””
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A single photograph appeared.
It showed a young woman standing outside a university library.
She had dark brown hair, green eyes, and a small silver necklace around her neck.
I recognized the necklace immediately.
Eleanor had worn the same one in our wedding photographs.
May you like
Beneath the picture was a message.
My name is Grace. I think you might be my father.
