Chapter 6: The Night My Mother Disappeared
I arrived at the Carter mansion twenty minutes later.
Brielle was waiting in the garden.
Her makeup was smudged.
Her hair was tied into a careless ponytail.
For once, she wasn't wearing designer clothes.
She wore an oversized gray sweatshirt and sneakers.
She looked like the girl I might have known if we had grown up differently.
“Where's the photograph?”” I asked.
She handed me her phone.
The image was old and slightly blurred.
A hospital room.
A small crib.
My mother stood beside it.
One hand rested on the edge of the crib.
The other held mine.
I was a little girl.
Perhaps eleven years old.
Brielle was a newborn.
And behind us stood a man whose face was partially hidden.
I zoomed in.
My stomach tightened.
It was Richard.
But something about his expression frightened me.
He wasn't smiling.
He was looking directly at my mother.
As if they were arguing.
“Where did you find this?”” I asked.
“In Vanessa's locked drawer.””
“Why were you searching her things?””
“Because I wanted to know who Camille was.””
I looked at her.
“What did she say?””
Brielle wiped her cheek.
“She said Camille was a woman who tried to destroy our family. She said my father saved me by bringing me home.””
“Your father?””
She looked away.
“I know. I said father. I meant Richard.””
I stared at the photograph again.
“Brielle, do you know what happened to Camille?””
“No. Nobody will tell me.””
“Did Vanessa say anything about my mother?””
Brielle nodded.
“She said Elena was responsible for everything.””
I frowned.
“Responsible for what?””
“Camille's death.””
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What?””
Brielle grabbed my hand.
“She said your mother took Camille to the hospital that night. She said they argued, and then Camille died.””
I shook my head.
“That doesn't prove anything.””
“I know. But there's something else.””
She unlocked her phone and showed me a voice recording.
“I recorded Mom talking to Dad last night.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because I didn't trust what they were saying.””
She pressed play.
Vanessa's voice came through the speaker.
“Richard, we cannot let this happen. Margaret has the documents, Evelyn has the archive, and now Nia is involved.””
My father's voice followed.
“I'm handling it.””
“You said that before. Look what happened.””
“Keep your voice down.””
“What if Brielle finds out?””
“She won't.””
“She already has.””
A pause.
Then Vanessa spoke again.
“Then we have to make sure she never talks to Nia.””
The recording ended.
I looked at Brielle.
“Did you hear anything else?””
She nodded.
“I heard Dad say something about a hospital report.””
My stomach tightened.
“What exactly?””
She played the recording again.
This time, I heard my father's voice more clearly.
“There's no reason to reopen the medical file. The original report is gone.””
Vanessa answered:
“Not if Elena kept a copy.””
Then my father said something that made me stop breathing.
“That's why we had to get rid of her archive.””
I looked at Brielle.
“Did you hear that?””
She nodded.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
“I think they did something to Camille.””
We went inside together.
Vanessa was in the dining room speaking to a stylist.
She looked up when she saw us.
Her expression immediately changed.
“Brielle, where have you been?””
“Out.””
“Your fitting is in twenty minutes.””
“I don't care.””
Vanessa dismissed the stylist.
Then she looked at me.
“What is she doing here?””
Brielle stood beside me.
“I want to know who Camille Brooks was.””
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
“We've already discussed this.””
“No. You've lied to me.””
“I raised you.””
“And I'm grateful. But that doesn't mean you get to erase my mother.””
Vanessa stood.
“Camille was a troubled woman.””
“Was she?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you keep her photograph hidden?””
Vanessa glanced at me.
“Because Nia has been filling your head with nonsense.””
I shook my head.
“I haven't told Brielle anything you didn't already know.””
Vanessa turned toward her daughter.
“Go upstairs.””
“No.””
Vanessa blinked.
“What?””
“I said no.””
The older woman took a step closer.
“Don't embarrass yourself.””
Brielle's voice trembled.
“Was Camille my biological mother?””
Vanessa stared at her.
Then she answered coldly.
“Yes.””
Brielle looked as if someone had struck her.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because you were my daughter.””
“That's not an answer!””
“I loved you!””
“Then why did you lie?””
Vanessa's expression hardened.
“Because I didn't want you growing up knowing your mother was a woman who couldn't even keep herself alive.””
Brielle began crying.
I stepped forward.
“Don't talk about her like that.””
Vanessa pointed at me.
“Stay out of this!””
Brielle suddenly pulled out her phone.
“I have the recording.””
Vanessa froze.
“What recording?””
“The one of you and Dad talking about the hospital report.””
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
“Give me that phone.””
“No.””
“Brielle, give it to me.””
“You said Elena was responsible for Camille's death. Why?””
Vanessa took another step.
“Because she was there.””
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?””
Vanessa's eyes moved between us.
Then she whispered:
“Your mother was the last person to see Camille alive.””
I felt my knees weaken.
Brielle shook her head.
“You're lying.””
Vanessa turned away.
“Ask your father.””
We found Richard in his office.
He was reviewing the final gala arrangements.
A large screen displayed Brielle's promotional photograph.
*THE FUTURE OF CARTER FASHION.*
He looked up when we entered.
“What now?””
Brielle walked directly toward him.
“Tell me about Camille.””
Richard slowly closed his laptop.
“I don't want to discuss this.””
“Was she my mother?””
He sighed.
“Brielle—”
“Was she?””
“Yes.””
Brielle's face crumpled.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I wanted you to have a normal childhood.””
“You gave me a fake one!””
Richard stood.
“I gave you everything.””
“You gave me expensive clothes and a fake name!””
“Watch your tone.””
Brielle laughed through her tears.
“That's all you ever say.””
I stepped forward.
“What happened at the hospital?””
My father looked at me.
“Nothing.””
“Then why is there a missing medical report?””
“Where did you hear that?””
“Your own recording.””
His expression changed.
“Brielle, give me the phone.””
She stepped backward.
“No.””
Richard's voice became dangerously quiet.
“You don't understand what you're doing.””
Brielle shook her head.
“I'm trying to understand who I am.””
He stared at her.
Then he looked at me.
“This is your fault.””
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“You lied to both of us.””
“I protected this family.””
“From what?””
He slammed his hand against the desk.
“From the truth!””
Silence.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Camille was sick. She had complications after childbirth. Your mother knew about them.””
Brielle wiped her cheeks.
“Then why did you hide the hospital records?””
“Because they contained private medical information.””
“That's not true,” I said.
My father turned toward me.
“Your mother was supposed to take care of Camille. She failed.””
I stared at him.
“Did she?””
He looked away.
And that was when I noticed something on his desk.
A framed document.
A photograph of a young woman.
A small hospital bracelet.
I approached.
My father immediately moved to block me.
“Don't touch that.””
I stopped.
The bracelet carried a name.
*CAMILLE BROOKS.*
And underneath it was a date.
The same date as the photograph Brielle had shown me.
I looked at my father.
“Why do you have her hospital bracelet?””
He said nothing.
Brielle stepped closer.
“Dad?””
Richard grabbed the frame and placed it inside a drawer.
“Both of you need to leave.””
I stared at him.
“You're hiding something.””
He opened the door.
“Get out.””
We walked into the hallway.
But before the door closed, I heard him make a phone call.
“It's Richard. I need the original file moved tonight.””
I stopped.
Brielle grabbed my arm.
“Did you hear that?””
I nodded.
My father continued speaking.
“No. Not tomorrow. Tonight. Before Margaret gets involved.””
Then he ended the call.
Brielle looked at me.
“What's the original file?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
But I had a terrible feeling that we were about to find out.
That evening, Margaret invited us to her office.
Brielle came with me.
It was the first time she had voluntarily left the mansion without Vanessa's permission.
Margaret greeted her gently.
“Brielle. I've been expecting you.””
Brielle looked nervous.
“Do you know who my mother was?””
Margaret nodded.
“Camille Brooks was a talented young woman. She loved you very much.””
Brielle began crying again.
Margaret offered her a chair.
Then she showed us the financial records from the warehouse.
“There is evidence that Richard transferred money from the company into private accounts. But there is also evidence of payments made after Camille's death.””
Brielle looked at the documents.
“What were the payments for?””
“We're still investigating.””
Margaret opened another folder.
“This is the most important part.””
She placed a medical document on the table.
It was a copy of a hospital transfer record.
The patient was Camille Brooks.
The date matched the night of her death.
But the transfer destination was unusual.
Instead of the main hospital's intensive care unit, Camille had been moved to a private medical facility.
The name of the facility appeared at the bottom.
*ST. AGNES PRIVATE RECOVERY CENTER.*
I frowned.
“Why would she be moved there?””
Margaret looked at Daniel.
He explained.
“St. Agnes closed several years ago. But its archived records were transferred to another medical institution.””
“Can we access them?””
“We've submitted a legal request.””
Brielle stared at the document.
“Does this mean she could have survived?””
Nobody answered.
Margaret gently shook her head.
“We don't know yet.””
I looked at the transfer date.
Then I noticed something.
The form had been signed by the attending physician.
But the authorization signature belonged to someone else.
*RICHARD CARTER.*
I stared.
“My father authorized the transfer.””
Margaret nodded.
“Yes.””
Brielle covered her mouth.
“Why would he do that?””
Margaret folded her hands.
“That is exactly what we need to find out.””
The following morning, Daniel called.
He had obtained the archived patient register from St. Agnes.
Margaret asked us to come immediately.
When we arrived, the documents were already waiting on the conference table.
Daniel opened the file.
“There's something unusual about Camille Brooks's case.””
I leaned forward.
“What?””
He pointed to the discharge section.
“According to this register, Camille was officially pronounced dead at 11:42 p.m.””
Brielle began crying.
Daniel continued.
“But the transfer records show she was moved to St. Agnes at 2:15 a.m. the following morning.””
I frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“Exactly.””
Margaret looked at the document.
“Someone changed the time of death.””
I stared at the paper.
“Can we identify who?””
Daniel turned another page.
There was a handwritten note.
Patient transferred under confidential family authorization. Identity protected.
Below it was a name.
*VANESSA CARTER.*
Brielle stood abruptly.
“No.””
I reached for her hand.
She shook her head.
“My mother wouldn't…”
But she couldn't finish.
Margaret examined the next page.
Then she stopped.
Her expression changed.
“What is it?”” I asked.
She slowly turned the document toward us.
There was a second note.
It was written by the attending nurse.
Patient conscious during transfer. Repeatedly requested to see Elena Carter.
My chest tightened.
I read the sentence again.
Camille had been conscious.
She had asked for my mother.
And someone had moved her under confidential authorization.
I looked at Brielle.
“Your mother might not have died when they told us.””
Brielle shook her head.
“Then where did she go?””
Nobody answered.
Margaret turned to Daniel.
“Find the nurse who signed this record.””
Daniel nodded.
“I'll start immediately.””
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
And slowly, his face went pale.
He looked at Margaret.
“It's about the nurse.””
“What?””
“She died three years ago.””
I lowered my eyes.
Margaret asked:
“Did she leave any family?””
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes. A daughter.””
“Where is she?””
He looked at me.
“She works at Carter Fashion House.””
I felt my stomach drop.
“Who?””
Daniel placed a photograph on the table.
It showed a young woman in a black company uniform.
I recognized her immediately.
She was the quiet receptionist who had worked at the Carter mansion for years.
The woman who had always avoided Vanessa's attention.
The woman who had once slipped me a cup of tea when I was crying in the kitchen.
Her name was Sophie Miller.
Daniel looked at us.
“Apparently, her mother left something for her before she died.””
I stared at the photograph.
“What did she leave?””
Daniel opened the final page of the report.
A handwritten note was attached.
If the Carter family ever asks about Camille Brooks, tell them the baby was not the only person who left that hospital alive.
I stopped breathing.
Brielle grabbed my hand.
Margaret slowly looked up.
And suddenly, the question was no longer whether Camille had died that night.
May you like
The question was whether someone had helped her disappear.
*And if she had survived, why had she never come back for her daughter?*
