Chapter 7: The Son She Lost
“You’re Nathan?””
My voice barely sounded like mine.
Natalie stood at the bottom of the stairs, one hand gripping the banister.
She nodded.
“I didn't know how to tell you.””
I descended slowly.
“You knew?””
“I knew your name was Nathan.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
She swallowed.
“I knew what your mother had been hiding.””
Priya stepped between us.
“How long?””
Natalie looked at her.
“About two years.””
I stared at my wife.
“Two years.””
“I told you I suspected.””
“You knew.””
“I found a photograph.””
“What photograph?””
“The one your mother had.””
Natalie wiped her cheek.
“It showed two babies. One was labeled Grant. The other was labeled Nathan.””
“Where did you find it?””
“In Rebecca's apartment.””
I felt something twist inside me.
“You broke into my mother's apartment?””
“No.””
“Then how?””
“She gave it to me.””
That stopped me.
“Mom gave you a photograph?””
Natalie nodded.
“Two years ago, she came to our house while you were at work.””
“Why?””
“She wanted to talk to me.””
“About what?””
Natalie looked down.
“She knew I'd been asking questions about my biological father.””
I frowned.
“You thought Daniel was your father.””
“I didn't know. I had a different birth certificate.””
“You had one saying who your father was?””
“Yes.””
“Who?””
“Thomas Hale.””
The name meant nothing.
Natalie continued.
“My mother raised me believing Thomas was my father. But after she died, I found documents that didn't match.””
“What documents?””
“A hospital record.””
She came up the stairs.
“The original record said my blood type didn't match Thomas's. Then I found a letter from my grandmother.””
“Margaret.””
“Yes.””
“What did it say?””
“That I wasn't the child my mother brought home.””
I stared at her.
“And you came looking for my family.””
“I came looking for answers.””
“By marrying me?””
Her face crumpled.
“I loved you.””
“That doesn't answer the question.””
“I met you before I knew anything.””
“When?””
“Three years before we married.””
I remembered.
A charity event.
A woman in a green dress.
The first time Natalie had laughed at one of my terrible jokes.
She had said she didn't believe in coincidences.
I had thought it was romantic.
Now it sounded sinister.
“You knew about the records before our wedding.””
“I knew something was wrong.””
“You didn't tell me.””
“I was afraid.””
“Afraid of me?””
“No.””
“Then who?””
Natalie looked toward the windows.
“Whoever had been keeping the records hidden.””
Priya folded her arms.
“Why did Rebecca trust you with the photograph?””
Natalie looked at her.
“She didn't trust me.””
“Then why?””
“Because she wanted me to know.””
“Know what?””
“That she believed I was Daniel's biological daughter.””
I felt sick.
“Your DNA test.””
Natalie nodded.
“She arranged it.””
“You knew?””
“Yes.””
“And it showed?””
“That Daniel was almost certainly my father.””
The room went silent.
I sat on the staircase.
“So if you're his daughter…”
Natalie whispered, “Then you're not his biological son.””
I looked at the bracelet in my hand.
“Nathan.””
“Yes.””
“Why did Mom call me Grant?””
Natalie's eyes filled again.
“Because that was the name of the baby she thought she had.””
“What?””
“She didn't know.””
“Didn't know what?””
“That the babies had been switched.””
I looked at Priya.
She slowly nodded.
“Your mother believed she brought home Grant Mercer.””
“But she actually brought home Nathan Hale.””
“Yes.””
“And she raised me for thirty-seven years believing I was her biological son.””
“Yes.””
My mind rejected every word.
“Then what happened to the real Grant?””
Natalie looked at me.
“I think we know.””
I stood.
“Where?””
She pointed toward the envelope on the table.
“Your mother left another document.””
Priya picked it up.
Inside was a death certificate.
*Grant Elias Mercer.*
Date of death: October 15, 1989.
Cause: respiratory failure.
I stared at the page.
“That's impossible.””
“It may be false,” Priya said.
“Then why does it exist?””
“Because someone needed a dead child.””
The sentence hung in the air.
I looked at Natalie.
“Why?””
“So nobody would search for him.””
“And Nathan?””
Natalie swallowed.
“He was listed as Grant.””
My heart pounded.
“Then why did my father disappear?””
Natalie didn't answer.
Priya did.
“Because he found out.””
I looked at her.
“You're sure?””
“No.””
“Then what do we know?””
“We know Daniel filed a complaint against St. Vincent.””
Priya opened her folder.
“We know he requested the original nursery records.””
She turned another page.
“We know the hospital denied having them.””
Another page.
“And we know Daniel disappeared four days later.””
I stared.
“Four days.””
“Yes.””
I looked at Natalie.
“Where did you get all this?””
She reached into her coat.
“From someone who found me six months ago.””
“Who?””
She hesitated.
“Evelyn Cross.””
Priya went completely still.
“The nurse?””
Natalie nodded.
“She was alive.””
“Where is she?””
“She died last month.””
My heart sank.
“Of course.””
“But before she died, she gave me a box.””
“What was inside?””
“Letters.””
“From whom?””
“Daniel.””
I stared at her.
“My father?””
“Yes.””
“Where are they?””
Natalie looked toward the kitchen.
“They were in the ledger.””
“What ledger?””
“The original hospital ledger.””
“The one stolen from our house?””
“Yes.””
“Who stole it?””
“I don't know.””
“You said the person left your photograph.””
Natalie nodded.
“And wrote that message.””
“Yes.””
“What else?””
She looked at me.
“They left one letter behind.””
She pulled a folded page from her pocket.
I took it.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
I had seen it in old birthday cards.
On Christmas envelopes.
In the few things Mom had kept from my father.
Daniel's handwriting.
The letter was dated October 18, 1989.
Four days after the babies were born.
I read.
*Rebecca,*
*I know what happened.*
*They switched our son with Susan Hale's baby.*
My vision blurred.
*I found the nurse who did it. She says she was ordered to make the change.*
I looked at Priya.
“Ordered by whom?””
I continued.
*The order came from someone who knew both families. Someone who wanted the Hale child gone and our child hidden.*
My hands shook.
Then the final line:
*I am going to find our real son. Do not tell anyone where you have taken the other baby.*
I stopped.
“The other baby.””
Priya whispered, “Rebecca.””
I looked at Natalie.
“She had Grant.””
Natalie nodded.
“Your mother had the Hale baby.””
I felt dizzy.
“Then why did Dad say not to tell anyone where she took him?””
Natalie looked away.
“I think because he suspected someone would come for you.””
“Come for me?””
“Yes.””
The next page was missing.
I looked at the torn edge.
“Who took it?””
“I don't know.””
“Then how do you know what happened?””
Natalie reached into her pocket again.
“This.””
She handed me a small cassette tape.
I stared.
“What is this?””
“Evelyn recorded a conversation before she died.””
Priya took it.
“Do you have a player?””
Natalie nodded.
“I brought one.””
She went to the living room.
A minute later, she returned with an old cassette recorder.
I pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then an elderly woman's voice.
Evelyn Cross.
“I don't know how long I have left, but Rebecca deserves the truth.””
My chest tightened.
“I switched the bracelets.””
Natalie covered her mouth.
Evelyn continued.
“I was told one child would be removed from the hospital records. I was promised money. I was told the baby was unwanted.””
A pause.
Then:
“I didn't know the Mercers would take him home.””
My heart stopped.
“I didn't know Rebecca would love him.””
The recording crackled.
“Daniel found out.””
Another pause.
“He came to my house.””
The tape hissed.
“He said he would expose everyone.””
Then Evelyn's voice dropped.
“But he never made it to the police.””
I gripped the recorder.
“What happened to him?””
The tape went silent.
Then one final sentence.
“The man who ordered the switch was not a stranger to the Mercer family.””
The recording clicked off.
Nobody moved.
Then my phone rang.
It was the hospital.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A nurse spoke quickly.
“Mr. Mercer, I'm calling about your mother.””
My heart stopped.
“What happened?””
“She woke up.””
I nearly collapsed with relief.
“Can I speak to her?””
“Not yet.””
“Why?””
“She asked us one question.””
“What?””
The nurse hesitated.
“She asked whether you had found out about Nathan.””
I looked at Natalie.
Then the nurse said,
“And when we told her you had, she became extremely agitated.””
“Why?””
“She said there was one thing you still didn't know.””
“What?””
The nurse lowered her voice.
“She said, ‘Nathan isn't the only secret I kept.’”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
May you like
For the first time, I wondered whether the truth we had uncovered wasn't the end of my mother's secret.
Maybe it was only the beginning.
