Chapter 7: The Baby My Mother Took Home
“Your mother didn't take you from me, Maya.””
Brenda stood on my porch with tears running through the makeup beneath her eyes.
“She took the wrong baby.””
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Behind me, Bidu began barking. His small body pressed against my leg, and the sound seemed impossibly loud in the silence between us.
I tightened my grip on the door.
“What does that mean?””
Brenda looked toward the street.
“Please. Let me inside.””
“You kicked my dog. You stole my handbag. You lied to the police. And now you're telling me my mother brought home the wrong baby?””
“I know how it sounds.””
“It sounds insane.””
“I know.””
“Then explain it.””
Brenda looked down at her hands.
“I can't do this standing on your porch.””
I almost shut the door.
Then I remembered the two babies in the photograph.
My girls. November 14.
I unfastened the chain.
“You have five minutes.””
Brenda entered slowly. She glanced at Bidu, who stood beside the couch with his ears raised.
When he growled, she flinched.
“Keep him away from me.””
I stared at her.
“You're in my house asking for my help, and you're afraid of my dog?””
“He bit me once.””
“He has never bitten anyone.””
“He was just a puppy.””
“You're lying again.””
Brenda pressed her lips together.
I pointed toward the kitchen.
“Sit down.””
She obeyed.
I remained standing.
“Start with the babies.””
Brenda folded her hands on the table.
“When I was eighteen, I gave birth to a little girl. Her name was Rebecca. Daniel was the father.””
“You told everyone the baby died.””
“My father told everyone that.””
“Did you believe him?””
Brenda's eyes filled again.
“At first.””
I waited.
She took a shaky breath.
“Rebecca was born shortly after midnight. I remember hearing her cry. I remember asking the nurse to let me hold her. Then my father arrived and told me there had been complications.””
“What complications?””
“He said the baby wasn't breathing properly. He said they were moving her to another room.””
“Did you see her again?””
“No.””
The answer came so quickly that I almost missed it.
“You never saw your daughter after birth?””
“I saw a baby in a bassinet the following morning. My father told me she was recovering. He wouldn't let me hold her.””
I felt sick.
“Was that baby Rebecca?””
Brenda shook her head.
“I don't know.””
The kitchen seemed to shrink around us.
I pulled the photograph from the family Bible and placed it on the table.
“Then explain this.””
Brenda stared at the two infants.
Her fingers began trembling.
“Where did you get that?””
“My mother's things.””
She touched the edge of the photograph without lifting it.
“Evelyn took this.””
“You recognize it?””
“Yes.””
“Why did she have a photograph of two newborns?””
Brenda's mouth tightened.
“Because she was there that night.””
I sat down opposite her.
“Tell me everything.””
For the next several minutes, Brenda spoke in fragments.
Her father, Richard Whitmore, had been a powerful local businessman. He owned a construction company, several rental properties, and a small investment firm. He controlled nearly every aspect of his family's life, including Brenda's finances.
When Brenda became pregnant, he regarded the child as a threat to the family's reputation.
He had already arranged a marriage between Brenda and the son of a business associate. The wedding was supposed to secure a lucrative partnership.
An unmarried daughter with a child would ruin those plans.
“My father told me Daniel was dangerous,” Brenda said.
“He said Daniel had stolen money from the company. He told me that if I refused to cooperate, he would have him arrested.””
“Did Daniel steal anything?””
“Not that I know of.””
“Then why did you believe it?””
“Because my father controlled everything. He had lawyers, accountants, and people who owed him favors. When he told you something, everyone else acted as though it were true.””
I thought of Daniel's admission that he'd taken money to leave.
“What happened the night I was born?””
Brenda closed her eyes.
“Evelyn was at the hospital. She had lost a pregnancy several months earlier, and she was devastated. My father told her that adopting a child would give her a second chance at happiness.””
“My mother agreed to that?””
“She believed the adoption would be legal. She believed I had surrendered my parental rights voluntarily.””
“And you hadn't?””
Brenda shook her head.
“No. My father never gave me the paperwork. He told me I had no choice.””
I stared at her.
“Then how did the wrong baby end up with my mother?””
Brenda looked at the photograph again.
“Because there were two girls born that night.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Mine and Rebecca's.””
“Yes.””
“Were they identical?””
“No. But they looked similar enough to confuse people who weren't paying attention.””
She paused.
“My father had arranged for the records to be changed. He wanted Evelyn to take the baby I had given birth to, while everyone believed the child was legally adopted. But Evelyn wasn't supposed to know that another baby had been born.””
“Who was the other baby's mother?””
Brenda didn't answer.
I leaned forward.
“Who was Rebecca's mother?””
Brenda's eyes met mine.
“I was.””
“You just said that.””
“No, Maya. Listen to me.””
She reached into her coat and removed a folded document.
“My father told me Rebecca had died. But I later discovered that the baby in the white blanket was alive. He had arranged for another family to take her.””
I stared at the document.
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Where is she?””
“I don't know.””
“Then how do you know she's alive?””
Brenda pushed the document toward me.
It was a copy of a hospital transfer record.
Two female infants.
Two identification numbers.
One entry marked deceased.
The other marked released to authorized guardian.
The names had been altered, but the signatures at the bottom were visible.
One belonged to Richard Whitmore.
The other belonged to a nurse named Helen Mercer.
I recognized the second name.
Helen Mercer had been my mother's closest friend. She had attended my school plays, brought me birthday presents, and visited us every Christmas until she moved away when I was twelve.
I had always believed she was simply a family friend.
“Why did Helen sign this?”” I whispered.
Brenda's expression changed.
“Because she helped your father.””
“My adoptive father?””
“Yes.””
I stared at her.
“Then my father knew about the babies?””
“He discovered the truth after he brought you home. He found out that the hospital records had been altered. He wanted to return you to your biological mother, but Evelyn begged him not to.””
“Why?””
“Because she believed you were the child she had been promised. She had already fallen in love with you.””
I thought of my mother's face in the photographs.
The way she held me.
The way she looked at me as though I were the most important person in the world.
“Did she know I wasn't her biological daughter?””
Brenda looked away.
“I think she suspected.””
“That's not an answer.””
“No. I don't know what she knew at the beginning. But she eventually learned the truth.””
I pushed back from the table.
“So my mother knew I might not be the baby she was supposed to adopt, and she kept me anyway?””
Brenda nodded.
“Because she loved you.””
I laughed once, bitterly.
“Everyone keeps telling me that love explains everything.””
“It doesn't.””
“No, it doesn't.””
I walked to the window.
Outside, a delivery truck rolled past the house. A neighbor was watering a lawn. Somewhere down the street, a child was laughing.
Ordinary life continued while mine came apart.
I turned back.
“What does this have to do with my handbag?””
Brenda's face went pale.
“I needed the photograph.””
“So you stole my bag?””
“I didn't mean to keep it.””
“You took it from my house.””
“Yes.””
“You buried it beneath your flowers.””
“I was going to retrieve the photograph before anyone noticed.””
“Why not simply ask me for it?””
“Because I didn't know you had the other documents.””
I stared at her.
“What other documents?””
Brenda's eyes moved toward the family Bible on the counter.
“The letter from Evelyn. The hospital records. The original photograph.””
I felt a cold sensation crawl up my spine.
“You knew those things existed.””
“I knew your mother had kept copies.””
“Where did you think they were?””
“I didn't know. I thought Daniel might have taken them.””
I remembered the message Daniel had sent me.
I know what they found beneath the staircase.
Then the words he'd spoken about the second account.
Brenda leaned forward.
“My father stole money from the company and created a trust in your name. When the fraud began to surface, he hid the evidence. He also kept documents relating to the adoption.””
“Why?””
“Because the same people who helped him alter the birth records helped him conceal the money. If one secret came out, the others would follow.””
I looked at the photograph of the babies.
“And you thought the keychain would help you find the documents?””
“No. I thought the handbag contained something Daniel had left for me.””
“What?””
“A note. He told me he'd put it somewhere safe.””
“Where?””
“I thought it was inside your bag.””
I stared at her.
“You stole my handbag because you thought Daniel had hidden evidence inside it?””
“Yes.””
“And when you didn't find what you wanted, you buried it?””
Brenda lowered her head.
“I panicked.””
“You kicked my dog because he started barking at the pot.””
“I didn't know he'd found the keychain.””
“Then why were you so afraid of us digging?””
She didn't answer.
I waited.
Finally, Brenda whispered, “Because the photograph wasn't the only thing beneath the soil.””
My heart began pounding.
“What else was there?””
She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
“A small metal box.””
“What was inside?””
“Your father's watch. A letter. And a second birth certificate.””
“Whose?””
Brenda's lips trembled.
“Rebecca's.””
Before I could speak, my phone rang.
Detective Collins.
I answered immediately.
“Maya, where are you?””
“At home.””
“Is Brenda with you?””
I looked at the woman sitting across from me.
“Yes.””
“Don't let her leave.””
“Why?””
“We've identified the person who entered the old Whitmore property last night.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Who?””
Collins took a breath.
“Your biological father, Daniel Carter.””
Brenda closed her eyes.
Then Collins added something that made me stare at the metal box Brenda had just described.
May you like
“He wasn't searching for the adoption records, Maya.””
“He was searching for a body.””
