Chapter 6: The Child My Mother Never Told Me About
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the pounding of my heart.
Ethan sat frozen on the sofa, his small fingers twisting the edge of the blanket.
“Am I not your son?”” he asked Richard.
My father crossed the room so quickly that the coffee table rattled.
“Of course you are.””
“But Daniel said—”
“Daniel doesn't know that.””
Richard knelt in front of him.
“You are my son. Nothing on a piece of paper changes that.””
Ethan's eyes filled with tears.
“Then why does my birthday match?””
Richard looked at Daniel.
“Tell us everything you know.””
Daniel lowered himself into a chair.
“Twenty-seven years ago, Laura Bennett gave birth to a baby boy at St. Agnes Hospital. The records show that the child was placed under temporary guardianship after the mother was declared deceased.””
“Declared deceased?”” I repeated.
“But you said the report listed Laura as dead in the fire.””
“It did.””
“So how could she give birth afterward?””
Daniel rubbed his face.
“That is one of the things I never understood. The dates may have been altered, or the identity on the birth certificate may be false. I need the original hospital records to know for certain.””
I looked at Ethan.
He was watching us with the terrified concentration of a child trying to understand whether the world he knew was about to disappear.
I sat beside him.
“Ethan, listen to me. No matter what these papers say, you're my little brother.””
He leaned into me.
“Promise?””
“Promise.””
Richard reached over and took Ethan's hand.
“And you're my son,” he repeated.
“We will find out the truth together.””
Daniel cleared his throat.
“There is something else. Margaret knew about the child.””
My head snapped toward him.
“What?””
“She told me she had discovered evidence that a child had been born before she married Richard. She was trying to find out whether the child had survived.””
“Why didn't she tell Dad?””
“Because she wasn't sure who to trust. She suspected someone had altered the records, and she didn't want to accuse Richard without proof.””
Dad stared at the birth certificate.
“Margaret knew I might have a child with Laura?””
“She suspected it.””
“And she still married me?””
Daniel nodded.
“She loved you.””
My father looked away.
For the first time that night, I saw him cry.
Not the quiet tears of someone trying to preserve his dignity. His shoulders shook, and he covered his face with both hands.
“I spent years telling Margaret she was imagining things,” he whispered.
“I told her she was paranoid. I told her she was destroying our marriage.””
He looked at Ethan.
“And now I don't even know what happened to my own son.””
I took his hand.
“We don't know that yet.””
He nodded, trying to compose himself.
Then Daniel placed the birth certificate back inside the envelope.
“We need to get the original hospital records. If Nicole altered them, there may be a trail.””
“Where do we start?”” I asked.
“St. Agnes closed twelve years ago. Its records were transferred to the county medical archive.””
Richard stood.
“Then we're going there.””
“Not tonight,” I said.
“It's nearly midnight, and Nicole knows we're investigating. If she has someone watching the house, she'll know where we go.””
Daniel nodded.
“Emily is right. We need to be careful.””
Richard looked at me.
“What do you suggest?””
“We secure the documents, make copies, and get a lawyer who has no connection to Arthur Cole or Daniel. Then we contact the hospital archive.””
Daniel's face tightened.
“You don't trust me.””
“I don't know whether to trust you.””
He accepted that without argument.
“Fair enough.””
I looked at the photograph of my mother and Nicole outside the courthouse.
“There's one person who might know what happened. Mrs. Collins said Mom trusted her. And the attorney who helped her establish the inheritance may still have copies of the original trust documents.””
Richard nodded.
“Evelyn Shaw.””
I recognized the name.
Evelyn had been my mother's attorney for years. After Mom died, she had sent me a letter explaining the terms of the inheritance, but I had never met her in person.
“Do you still have her contact information?”” I asked.
Richard pulled out his phone.
“I do.””
He called.
The phone rang six times before a woman's sleepy voice answered.
“Richard? It's almost midnight.””
“Evelyn, I'm sorry. This is an emergency.””
There was a pause.
“What happened?””
“It's about Margaret's trust. I found a letter she left behind, and I need to know whether you still have the original transfer documents.””
Evelyn said nothing for several seconds.
Then she asked a question that made my blood run cold.
“Has Nicole found the letter?””
Richard and I exchanged a look.
“Yes,” he said.
“Oh, dear God.””
Her voice sharpened.
“Richard, listen carefully. Do not confront Nicole. Do not sign anything she puts in front of you. And under no circumstances should you allow her access to Ethan's medical records.””
Richard gripped the phone.
“Why Ethan's records?””
Evelyn took a shaky breath.
“Because the trust was never the only thing Margaret was protecting.””
My heart began pounding again.
“What else was she protecting?”” I asked.
Evelyn recognized my voice.
“Emily?””
“Yes.””
“I wish I could explain everything over the phone, but I can't. Meet me tomorrow morning at my office. Bring the letter and the birth certificate.””
“Do you know who Ethan's biological parents are?””
Silence.
Then Evelyn said, “I know what Margaret believed.””
“What did she believe?””
“That the child Nicole was searching for was not the child everyone thought she was.””
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Daniel looked as if he had seen a ghost.
“Did she say anything else?”” he asked.
“She wants us to meet her tomorrow.””
He shook his head.
“That's dangerous.””
“Why?””
“Because Evelyn was the last person Margaret called before the accident.””
Richard went pale.
“What?””
Daniel nodded.
“I saw the phone records years ago. Margaret called Evelyn at 8:17 p.m. The accident was reported at 9:06.””
I looked at the recording device on the table.
My mother had left clues, letters, and warnings. She had tried to protect us from a threat we hadn't understood.
Now every new answer seemed to uncover another secret.
I glanced at Ethan.
He had fallen asleep against my shoulder, exhausted by fear.
I carried him upstairs and tucked him into bed. His dinosaur sat on the nightstand, its chipped green paint catching the light from the hallway.
Before I left, he stirred.
“Emily?””
“I'm here.””
“Am I still Ethan Hayes?””
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Yes, sweetheart.””
“What if I'm somebody else?””
I brushed his hair away from his forehead.
“Then we'll learn who you are. But you'll still be the same boy who makes dinosaur movies, steals the chocolate chips from cookie dough, and leaves his shoes in the hallway.””
He smiled faintly.
“Dad hates that.””
“I know.””
“Will you stay until I fall asleep?””
I kissed his forehead.
“Of course.””
When his breathing settled, I returned downstairs.
Richard was standing by the living room window, staring at the dark street.
Daniel sat at the table, surrounded by documents.
I approached my father.
“What's wrong?””
He didn't turn.
“Something Evelyn said.””
“What?””
He looked at me.
“When I was twenty-three, after the accident, my parents told me I'd been alone in the car. They said the woman who'd been with me had died before the ambulance arrived.””
My stomach tightened.
“But the police report says Laura survived.””
“I know.””
He rubbed his temples.
“I remember a hospital room. A nurse told me I had a visitor. She said the woman was asking to see me, but my father refused to let her in.””
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
He looked toward the staircase.
“And now Ethan's birth date matches the certificate.””
“Dad, don't jump to conclusions.””
“I'm not.””
But his voice was shaking.
“I'm wondering whether I have spent twenty-seven years living inside a lie.””
My phone vibrated again.
This time, the message came from a number I recognized.
Nicole.
*You have until morning to return what you stole.*
A photograph followed.
It showed the inside of our house.
Ethan was asleep in his bed.
The image had been taken from the doorway.
My blood turned to ice.
Someone had been inside our house while we were downstairs.
I raced up the stairs.
Ethan was still asleep, but the bedroom window was open.
The curtains moved in the cold night air.
On his pillow lay a small white envelope.
My name was written across it.
I opened it with shaking fingers.
Inside was a photograph of a baby wrapped in a hospital blanket.
On the back, in my mother's handwriting, were five words:
*Emily, this is your real brother.*
I stared at the photograph.
The baby had a tiny crescent-shaped birthmark beneath his left ear.
I knew that mark.
Ethan had the same one.
But beneath the photograph was a second page, and the sentence written there made my legs nearly give way.
*The boy you call Ethan was born under another name. His biological mother is alive.*
At the bottom of the page was a name.
*Nicole Bennett.*
I heard footsteps behind me.
Richard appeared in the doorway.
He read the note over my shoulder.
Then he looked at Ethan sleeping in the bed.
“That's impossible,” he whispered.
But the bedroom window was open.
The photograph was real.
And somewhere outside our house, the woman we had called Nicole for six years was waiting for us to discover the truth.
My father reached for the paper.
Before he could touch it, a final message appeared on my phone.
*If you want to know why Margaret died, ask Evelyn who signed the adoption papers.*
I looked at the clock.
It was 12:43 a.m.
May you like
We had less than eight hours before our meeting with Evelyn Shaw.
And for the first time, I was afraid that finding out who Ethan really was might destroy the only family we had left.
