Chapter 7: The Little Girl in Grandma's House
For a moment, Claire couldn't move.
Ellie stood beside her, clutching her stuffed rabbit and looking around the room with the innocent curiosity only a four-year-old could possess.
"The little girl," Claire whispered.
"Where did you see her?""
Ellie pointed toward Margaret.
"At Grandma's house.""
Margaret's face drained of color.
"Ellie, sweetheart, you shouldn't be here.""
Ellie took a step closer to Claire.
"She was in the upstairs bedroom. Grandma said I couldn't go inside, but I heard her crying.""
Claire slowly stood.
"Margaret, who is that little girl?""
Margaret looked toward Detective Brooks.
"I can explain.""
Brooks immediately stepped between her and the door.
"Nobody is leaving until we establish what's happening.""
Margaret shook her head.
"You're making a terrible mistake.""
Claire held up the photograph.
"Is this Grace?""
Margaret's silence answered her.
Claire felt something inside her break.
"You told me she was adopted by a family in Boston.""
"I said she was safe.""
"You told me she was living with Daniel and Susan Miller!""
"I never said they were still her guardians.""
Claire stared at her.
"How long has she been in your house?""
Margaret pressed her lips together.
"Six months.""
Six months.
The exact amount of time Nathan had known about the adoption records.
Claire's hands began trembling.
"You brought my biological daughter into your house and never told me?""
"She was frightened. She needed somewhere familiar.""
"She needed her mother!""
Margaret's eyes filled.
"You were never supposed to find out.""
Claire stared at her.
The words were so cruel that for several seconds she couldn't even respond.
Then Ellie tugged at her sleeve.
"Mommy?""
Claire looked down.
"Yes, baby?""
"Is the little girl my sister?""
Claire knelt.
"Maybe, sweetheart.""
Ellie smiled.
"Can she play with my toys?""
Claire's tears finally fell.
"Yes. I think she would love that.""
Behind them, Sarah began coughing.
Detective Brooks turned.
"Are you okay?""
Sarah shook her head.
"Margaret, tell her.""
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Sarah, please.""
"Tell Claire why Grace is here.""
Margaret looked exhausted.
Then she sat down.
"Because Daniel Miller died.""
Claire frowned.
"What?""
"Three months ago. A car accident. Susan was placed in long-term care after suffering a serious injury. Grace had nowhere stable to go.""
"Why didn't you contact me?""
"Because the adoption records were sealed.""
"You're telling me you couldn't find me?""
Margaret looked at her.
"I had your address. Your phone number. I knew exactly where you lived.""
Claire stepped backward.
"You deliberately kept my daughter away from me.""
Margaret began crying.
"I thought it was safer.""
"Stop saying that!""
Claire's voice echoed through the room.
"Stop pretending every terrible thing you do is for someone else's protection!""
Margaret flinched.
Detective Brooks approached.
"Mrs. Harper, where exactly is the child now?""
Margaret hesitated.
"Upstairs.""
"Is she alone?""
"There's a caregiver.""
"Name?""
"Angela.""
Brooks immediately radioed the officers outside.
"Secure the upstairs bedroom. We have another minor child who needs to be located and protected.""
Claire took Ellie's hand.
"I'm going to see her.""
Brooks nodded.
"Stay with me.""
They moved through the corridor toward the staircase.
Every step felt unreal.
At the top, a narrow hallway led to three bedrooms.
A small night-light glowed beneath the middle door.
Claire stopped.
She could hear someone humming.
A little girl's voice.
The same soft tune Ellie used to sing when she played with her dolls.
Claire's fingers trembled as she knocked.
"Hello?""
The humming stopped.
A woman opened the door.
She was in her fifties, wearing a pale blue cardigan.
"Mrs. Harper?""
"Who are you?""
"Angela. I look after Grace.""
Claire looked past her.
A little girl sat on the bed.
Dark curls framed her face.
She was wearing yellow pajamas and holding a stuffed elephant.
Claire couldn't breathe.
The birthmark near her left shoulder was visible above the collar.
The same mark from the photograph.
The same mark she'd once seen on an ultrasound image.
"Grace?"" Claire whispered.
The little girl looked up.
"Yes?""
Claire stepped inside.
"Hi, sweetheart.""
Grace watched her cautiously.
"Are you Grandma's friend?""
Claire swallowed.
"No. I'm...""
She couldn't finish.
How did a mother introduce herself to a daughter she had never been allowed to meet?
Angela looked at Detective Brooks.
"What's happening?""
Brooks showed her badge.
"We need to ask you some questions.""
But Claire couldn't take her eyes off the child.
Grace studied her face.
Then she tilted her head.
"You're the lady in the picture.""
Claire froze.
"What picture?""
Grace pointed toward the bedside table.
A framed photograph showed Margaret holding a newborn baby.
Claire leaned forward.
Behind the frame was another photograph.
One she recognized immediately.
It was her wedding picture.
She and Nathan stood beneath a white floral arch, smiling at the camera.
Claire's knees weakened.
"Why does Grandma have this?""
Grace shrugged.
"She said you were my first mommy.""
Claire covered her mouth.
The little girl continued.
"She said you had another little girl and you didn't want me anymore.""
Claire dropped to her knees.
"Oh, sweetheart. No.""
Grace frowned.
"Then why didn't you come?""
Claire's tears fell freely.
"Because nobody told me where you were.""
Grace stared at her.
"Are you my mommy?""
Claire nodded.
"Yes.""
The little girl looked down at her stuffed elephant.
Then she asked the question that would haunt Claire for the rest of her life.
"Can I call you Mommy, or does Ellie get upset?""
Claire opened her arms.
"There's enough love for both of you.""
Grace slowly climbed off the bed.
She took one step.
Then another.
Finally, she ran into Claire's arms.
Claire held her daughter for the first time.
Four years too late.
And when Ellie saw them embracing, she quietly approached.
"Hi," Ellie said.
Grace looked at her.
"Hi.""
"I'm Ellie.""
Grace smiled shyly.
"I'm Grace.""
Ellie held out her stuffed rabbit.
"Do you want to play?""
Grace looked at Claire.
Then she nodded.
The two little girls sat together on the carpet, examining each other's toys.
For one brief moment, Claire could almost believe everything would be all right.
Then Detective Brooks called her name.
Claire stood.
The detective held up a small envelope recovered from the bedside drawer.
"There's something you need to see.""
Inside was a hospital photograph.
It showed three newborn babies.
But this time, someone had written names beneath them.
Ellie Harper.
Grace Harper.
And a third name.
Nathan Harper.
Claire frowned.
"What is this?""
Brooks looked toward Sarah.
Sarah's face had turned white.
Then she whispered:
"That's why Margaret never wanted you to find this room.""
Twenty minutes later, the girls were taken to a safe room with a female officer.
Claire remained in the hallway with Detective Brooks.
Sarah had been transported to the hospital for medical evaluation.
Margaret was under arrest.
But Claire couldn't stop thinking about the photograph.
Three babies.
Nathan's name.
It made no sense.
"Detective?""
Brooks looked up.
"Yes?""
"Why would Nathan's name be on a newborn photograph?""
Brooks studied the document.
"It could be an identification error.""
"Or?""
"Or someone used his identity to conceal another child's birth.""
Claire leaned against the wall.
"How many lies are there?""
Brooks didn't answer.
Her phone rang.
She listened for several seconds, then looked at Claire.
"Your husband has requested to speak with you.""
Claire closed her eyes.
"Take me to him.""
As they walked toward the elevators, Claire glanced back at the room where her daughters were waiting.
Two little girls.
Two different birth stories.
One family built on a lie.
And somewhere inside that hospital, Nathan knew the truth about the third name.
When Claire entered Nathan's room, he was sitting upright.
His face was pale, but he looked stronger.
He immediately noticed her expression.
"What's happened?""
Claire placed the photograph on his blanket.
"Tell me why your name is here.""
Nathan looked down.
All the color disappeared from his face.
"Where did you get that?""
"From Margaret's house.""
He closed his eyes.
"Claire...""
"Don't.""
He swallowed.
Then he whispered:
"That photograph isn't showing three babies.""
Claire frowned.
"What?""
May you like
Nathan looked at her.
"It's showing two babies and one child who was never supposed to exist.""
