Chapter 3: The Night She Was Born
I stared at the photograph on my phone until the screen dimmed.
Ethan Price stood beside a teenage Vanessa, one hand resting on the rail of the hospital bed.
And in Vanessa’s arms was a newborn wrapped in a pale yellow blanket.
Lily.
Or the baby I had spent five years believing was Lily.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
“Who sent this?”” I asked.
Vanessa didn’t answer.
“Who has access to this photo?””
She looked at my phone.
“I don’t know.””
“Stop saying that.””
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“I really don’t know.””
I stepped back.
“Then we're going to the hospital.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“Daniel, please.””
“You lied about Lily. You lied about your family. You hid food from my daughter. There is a dead woman’s name on a letter under Lily’s mattress, and now your brother is sending me photographs from the night she was born.””
Vanessa flinched at the word brother.
“Keep your voice down.””
“Why?””
“Because Ethan hears everything.””
I looked around the room.
“He isn’t here.””
“You don't know that.””
Lily was still in my arms.
Her cheek rested against my shoulder.
I kissed the top of her head.
“We’re leaving.””
Vanessa grabbed my wrist.
“Daniel, listen to me.””
I pulled free.
“No. You listen.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“If you start digging into this, you won't be able to stop.””
“Good.””
“You think this is about me.””
“It is about you.””
She shook her head.
“It’s about what my mother did.””
I froze.
“What did Evelyn do?””
Vanessa looked at Lily.
“Not tonight.””
“Tell me.””
“She changed something.””
“What?””
“The records.””
My heart hammered.
“Which records?””
“Birth records.””
I stared at her.
“You said you didn't know how my name got on Lily’s birth certificate.””
“I didn't.””
“Then how?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“My mother arranged it.””
“For what reason?””
“She said a baby needed a father.””
“She found me?””
“No.””
Her voice broke.
“She found a baby.””
The room went silent.
I felt Lily stir in my arms.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa covered her mouth.
“I can't.””
“You have to.””
“Daniel, please.””
“No more please.””
I walked to the door.
“We're going downstairs.””
She blocked me.
“You can't take Lily.””
I looked at her.
“Watch me.””
“She is my daughter.””
“She is five years old and she was hungry in her own home.””
Vanessa’s expression collapsed.
“I was trying to protect her.””
“From what?””
“From him.””
“Ethan?””
She nodded.
I glanced at my phone again.
Another message had arrived.
*Don't take Vanessa to the hospital. She knows why.*
I looked at her.
“Did Ethan send this?””
She didn't answer.
“That means yes.””
“No.””
“Then who?””
Vanessa’s face went pale.
“I don't know.””
I almost laughed.
“You really need another sentence.””
She stared at my phone.
“Where did he tell you to go?””
“The hospital.””
Her breathing stopped.
“I said don't go.””
“Why?””
“Because that's where it started.””
I held Lily closer.
“Then that's where we're going.””
I grabbed my keys.
Vanessa followed us downstairs.
Mason was waiting at the bottom step.
“Dad?””
I looked at him.
“Go get your shoes.””
“Are we leaving?””
“Yes.””
He looked at Vanessa.
She shook her head.
“No.””
Mason’s eyes dropped to the floor.
I knelt.
“Listen to me. You haven't done anything wrong.””
“Is Lily leaving?””
“She is.””
“Am I coming?””
I looked at Vanessa.
She said nothing.
“Mason,” I said quietly, “get your shoes.””
He nodded.
Ten minutes later, we were in the truck.
Lily sat beside me in the back seat, asleep with her head against the window.
Mason sat on the other side.
Vanessa was in the passenger seat.
For the first twenty minutes, no one spoke.
Rain began tapping against the windshield.
The wipers moved steadily.
I kept seeing the photograph.
A younger Vanessa.
A newborn.
Ethan.
My name on a birth certificate.
A hidden box.
A locked pantry.
Then something occurred to me.
I looked in the rearview mirror.
“Mason.””
He lifted his eyes.
“Where did you say your grandmother wanted to send you?””
He looked at Vanessa.
She turned sharply.
“Don't.””
“Mason?””
He hesitated.
“Mom said we'd go stay with my aunt.””
“What aunt?””
Vanessa stared straight ahead.
“She doesn't matter.””
“Her name?””
“Daniel.””
“Her name.””
Silence.
Mason whispered, “Aunt Rachel.””
Vanessa’s fingers clenched.
I had never heard the name.
“How long has Rachel been around?””
“She lives out of state.””
“Where?””
“Pennsylvania.””
I nodded.
Then Mason spoke again.
“Mom said Aunt Rachel knows where Lily came from.””
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
Vanessa shut her eyes.
“Mason.””
“I didn't know I wasn't supposed to say.””
“It's okay,” I said.
Vanessa turned to me.
“No, it isn't.””
We drove another ten minutes.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered on speaker.
No one spoke.
“Hello?””
Silence.
Then a man’s voice.
Low.
Calm.
“Daniel Carter.””
Vanessa grabbed the door handle.
I turned down the radio.
“Who is this?””
“You're heading to St. Vincent’s.””
I looked at Vanessa.
She was shaking.
“Who are you?””
“You've been asking the wrong questions.””
I felt my pulse pounding in my ears.
“What questions should I ask?””
“Ask who was registered as Lily’s mother.””
Vanessa whispered, “Hang up.””
I ignored her.
“What do you mean?””
“Your wife gave birth that night.””
“Yes.””
“No.””
The voice paused.
“Vanessa gave birth to a baby that night.””
My stomach dropped.
“But that baby wasn't Lily.””
Lily stirred in the back seat.
I glanced at her.
“What are you saying?””
“I'm saying the girl sleeping behind you is the center of a lie that began before you ever met your wife.””
Vanessa started crying.
“Ethan, please.””
The line went dead.
I stared at Vanessa.
“You said he was dangerous.””
She wiped her face.
“He is.””
“He just said Lily wasn't your baby.””
Vanessa looked out the window.
“He didn't say she wasn't mine.””
I felt cold.
“What does that mean?””
She didn’t answer.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot.
The place looked almost exactly as it had five years earlier.
Same gray entrance.
Same glass doors.
Same covered drop-off lane.
I had stood there once with a bouquet of flowers and a cheap stuffed rabbit in my hands.
I had thought I was walking into the first chapter of my family.
Now I wondered if I had walked into someone else's story.
Inside, the night receptionist barely looked up.
“Can I help you?””
I stepped forward.
“I need archived maternity records.””
She frowned.
“For whom?””
“Vanessa Carter. Five years ago.””
Vanessa grabbed my sleeve.
“Daniel, don't.””
I pulled free.
The receptionist looked between us.
“Do you have identification?””
I handed mine over.
She typed.
“Date?””
I gave it.
She typed again.
Then stopped.
Her expression changed.
“What?””
She looked at Vanessa.
“Ma’am, are you sure this is the correct date?””
“Yes.””
She looked at me.
“This record has been sealed.””
“Why?””
“I can't tell you.””
“Who sealed it?””
She hesitated.
“Medical records administration.””
“Who requested the seal?””
“I don't know.””
Vanessa whispered, “Let's go.””
“No.””
The receptionist leaned closer.
“There is an authorization note attached.””
I looked at Vanessa.
“What note?””
The receptionist lowered her voice.
“It says the patient requested that no information be released to Daniel Carter.””
My heart sank.
“That's me.””
“I understand.””
“Who added it?””
She checked the screen.
Then her eyebrows drew together.
“That's strange.””
“What?””
“The authorization was entered three days ago.””
I stared at her.
“Three days ago?””
“Yes.””
Vanessa went completely still.
I slowly turned toward her.
Three days ago.
Before I knew about the letter.
Before I found the box.
Before Lily cried over half a dinner roll.
Before I discovered the photograph.
Someone had reopened the records.
Someone had requested they be hidden from me.
And whoever that person was knew exactly when to do it.
“Vanessa,” I said quietly, “what happened three days ago?””
She didn't answer.
The receptionist looked at the screen again.
“There's something else.””
“What?””
She pointed to a field near the bottom.
“The request wasn't submitted under Vanessa’s name.””
I felt the room tighten around me.
“Whose name?””
The receptionist read it twice.
Then looked up.
“Evelyn Price.””
Vanessa’s mother had been dead for three years.
I stared at the screen.
And then the receptionist added one sentence that made every hair on my arms rise.
“Sir… according to our system, Evelyn Price signed the request herself.””
Vanessa began to shake.
Then my phone buzzed.
May you like
A new message appeared.
*Now ask Vanessa why her dead mother is still signing documents.*
