Chapter 4: The Child Registered in My Name
I stared at the two newborns until the photograph blurred.
One had a blue identification bracelet.
The other had a pink one.
Between them was a hospital card bearing my name.
*EMILY CARTER.*
I had never given birth to twins.
I had never even known Claire was pregnant.
Yet somewhere in a hospital's records, two little girls had been connected to me.
"Rachel," I whispered.
She took the phone from my hand.
Her eyes moved across the photograph.
Then she looked at me.
"Who sent this?""
"The nurse.""
"What nurse?""
"The one who delivered Claire's babies.""
Rachel sat down slowly.
"Emily, we need to call the police.""
"Not yet.""
"Not yet? Someone has registered a child in your name!""
"I know.""
"And Damon knows something about it.""
"I know that too.""
She gripped my shoulders.
"Then what exactly are you waiting for?""
I looked at the photograph again.
The baby with the pink bracelet had a tiny dark mark near her left ear.
The same mark I'd noticed beneath the little girl's ear in the yellow dress.
I remembered the ultrasound appointment that morning.
The technician had shown me our daughter moving her little hand.
I'd cried because the image was so beautiful.
Now I wondered whether the little girl in the photograph was connected to the child growing inside me.
My phone vibrated.
*Unknown:* My name is Nurse Patricia Ellis. I worked at St. Mary's when Claire delivered. I have been trying to contact you for months.
I typed:
*Emily:* Why?
Her reply came quickly.
*Patricia:* Because the hospital records were altered after the delivery.
*Emily:* What records?
*Patricia:* The birth registration. The discharge papers. The second baby's identification.
I swallowed.
*Emily:* Why was my name used?
There was a pause.
Then:
*Patricia:* Because someone told the hospital you were the intended adoptive mother.
I looked at Rachel.
She was already calling a lawyer.
Another message appeared.
*Patricia:* But you were never supposed to know about the second baby.
My hands began shaking.
*Emily:* Where is she now?
Patricia didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she sent an address.
A small private medical office on the outskirts of town.
Then she wrote:
*Patricia:* Come alone if you can. Damon has people checking the clinic's records.
Rachel saw the message.
"Absolutely not.""
"I need to speak to her.""
"Then we'll go together.""
"She specifically said—"
"Emily, she's a stranger. She could be working with Damon.""
I looked at the photograph.
"She knows something about the baby.""
Rachel softened.
"Then we'll take precautions.""
She called the attorney she had used during her divorce.
His name was Michael Reeves.
He answered on the second ring.
"Rachel? Everything okay?""
"No," Rachel said.
"I need you to listen carefully.""
She explained what had happened.
She told him about the forged consent forms, the missing money, the secret pregnancy, and the two newborns.
Michael interrupted only once.
"Emily, have you touched any of the original documents?""
"No. I photographed them.""
"Good. Don't confront anyone else. Preserve every message. And do not sign anything Damon gives you.""
"Can I meet the nurse?""
"Not without someone accompanying you.""
Rachel looked at me.
"We're going together.""
Michael agreed to meet us at the medical office.
Before we left, I called Owen.
He answered immediately.
"Emily?""
"I need you to tell me something.""
"Anything.""
"Did Claire ever tell you she was pregnant?""
Silence.
Then he said, "She told me she had fertility problems.""
My chest tightened.
"Did she ever tell you she had a baby?""
"No.""
"Not even once?""
"Emily, what are you saying?""
I looked at the photograph.
"Claire gave birth to twins.""
I heard him inhale sharply.
"Twins?""
"Yes.""
"But she told me...""
His voice broke.
"She told me she had undergone surgery for a cyst. She said she couldn't have children afterward.""
I closed my eyes.
"That's not what happened.""
Owen was quiet for several seconds.
Then he asked:
"Does Damon know?""
"Yes.""
"How long?""
"I don't know.""
His breathing became uneven.
"Emily, I'm coming over.""
"Don't confront Claire yet.""
"Why?""
"Because we don't know how much she's hiding.""
He hung up without answering.
The medical office was in a converted brick building beside an old pharmacy.
Michael arrived first.
He was in his late fifties, with silver hair and a calm manner that made even terrible situations seem manageable.
He shook my hand.
"Mrs. Carter, I'm sorry you're going through this.""
"Please don't call me that.""
He paused.
"Emily, then.""
We entered the building together.
A woman was waiting in the reception area.
She was in her early sixties, with short gray hair and tired eyes.
When she saw me, she stood.
"Emily?""
I nodded.
She looked at Rachel.
Then at Michael.
"You're not alone.""
"No," I replied.
She seemed disappointed.
Then she pulled a chair toward me.
"My name is Patricia Ellis.""
I sat down.
"Show me the records.""
She opened a thick folder.
The first document was a delivery report.
Claire's name appeared at the top.
The date was nineteen months earlier.
Under the delivery details were two entries.
*Twin A: Female.*
*Twin B: Female.*
I stared.
"Both girls survived?""
Patricia nodded.
"Both were breathing independently. Both were healthy.""
"What happened to them?""
Patricia turned to the next page.
"That's where things became complicated.""
She explained that Claire had arrived at the hospital under a different surname.
She had been admitted privately.
Damon had been listed as the emergency contact.
But the person paying the medical expenses was not Damon.
It was a company called Bennett Family Holdings.
I looked at Michael.
He wrote down the name.
Patricia continued.
"After the delivery, a man came to the maternity ward. He claimed to be handling the adoption arrangements.""
"Who?""
She hesitated.
"Your husband.""
I closed my eyes.
"He came here?""
"Yes.""
"What did he do?""
"He asked us to prepare separate discharge documents. He said one baby would remain with Claire, and the other would be transferred to a family member.""
"Which family member?""
Patricia turned the page.
There was a scanned form.
The receiving parent's name was mine.
Emily Carter.
My address.
My date of birth.
And a signature.
Again, it looked almost like mine.
I shook my head.
"I never collected a baby.""
"I know.""
"Then what happened?""
Patricia folded her hands.
"That's the part I've been afraid to tell you.""
Rachel leaned forward.
"Tell her.""
Patricia looked at me.
"Both babies were discharged on the same day. One went home with Claire. The other was transferred to a private care facility.""
"Which facility?""
"Northbridge Family Center.""
Michael immediately wrote it down.
"Was that a licensed adoption agency?""
Patricia shook her head.
"No. It was a temporary residential care provider.""
"Who authorized the transfer?"" Michael asked.
Patricia turned another page.
The authorization had been signed by a woman named Margaret Hale.
I frowned.
"Who is that?""
Patricia looked uncomfortable.
"She was the hospital's patient liaison.""
"Was?""
"She resigned six months ago.""
Michael studied the document.
"Why did you keep these records?""
Patricia's eyes filled.
"Because I knew something was wrong.""
She reached into the folder and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a newborn's wrist.
A hospital bracelet was wrapped around it.
The name printed on the bracelet was almost completely visible.
*BABY CARTER.*
I touched the edge of the photograph.
"Is this the second baby?""
Patricia nodded.
"Yes.""
"Where is she?""
Patricia looked at me.
"That's why I contacted you.""
She removed another document.
It was a visitor log from Northbridge Family Center.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Damon Carter.
Another name appeared beside his.
Claire Bennett.
But the last entry was different.
A third person had visited the child.
A woman named Margaret Hale.
The date of the visit was six months ago.
I looked up.
"Who is she?""
Patricia lowered her voice.
"She wasn't just a hospital liaison.""
"Then what was she?""
Patricia hesitated.
"She was the director of Northbridge.""
My stomach tightened.
"Where is Northbridge now?""
"Closed.""
"When?""
"Three months ago.""
Michael stood.
"We need the closure records.""
Patricia nodded.
"There's something else.""
She handed me a final page.
It was a financial transaction.
A payment of $42,000 had been made to Northbridge Family Center.
The sender was Bennett Family Holdings.
The recipient account belonged to a company called Carter Medical Consulting.
I stared.
I knew that name.
It was the company Damon had established two years earlier.
He had told me it was for tax purposes.
I looked at Michael.
"Can they do that?""
"Not legally, if the funds were connected to an unauthorized transfer.""
I turned back to Patricia.
"Why didn't you report this?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I tried.""
"What happened?""
"I was told to stop asking questions.""
"By whom?""
She looked directly at me.
"By your husband.""
The room went silent.
Then Patricia reached into the folder and removed a final photograph.
It showed Damon outside Northbridge.
He was holding a little girl.
Beside him stood Margaret Hale.
And behind them, partly visible through the building's glass doors, was another woman.
I recognized her immediately.
My mother-in-law.
Damon's mother.
Evelyn Carter.
I stared at the photograph.
My mother-in-law had always treated me politely.
She had never been particularly affectionate, but she had attended every holiday dinner and sent gifts after every doctor's appointment.
When I announced my pregnancy, she had cried.
She'd hugged me and whispered, "This is the grandchild I've been waiting for.""
Now I understood why the photograph made me feel sick.
Evelyn had known about the child.
Perhaps from the beginning.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Damon.
*Damon:* We need to talk. Mom wants to see you.
Another message followed.
*Damon:* She says it's time you knew the truth.
I looked at the photograph again.
Then I asked Patricia one question.
"Was the second baby ever adopted?""
Patricia shook her head.
"No.""
"Then where did she go?""
May you like
Patricia looked at me with tears in her eyes.
"Emily, I think your mother-in-law has been raising her.""
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