Chapter 5: The Woman Outside the Door
Nobody moved.
Vanessa stood on the other side of the metal door.
I could hear her breathing.
Then she knocked three times.
“Marcus, open the door.””
Dad looked at Daniel.
Daniel shook his head.
“Don't.””
Dad's jaw tightened.
“She's my wife.””
“And she's the person Rebecca warned us about,” Daniel replied.
Vanessa knocked again.
“I'm not leaving until we talk.””
Dad stepped toward the door.
I grabbed his sleeve.
“Please don't.””
He looked down at my hand.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he turned back toward Daniel.
“Call the police.””
Daniel dialed.
Vanessa must have heard him because her voice changed.
“Marcus, don't do this. You don't understand what's in that room.””
Dad answered through the door.
“Then explain it.””
“Not with Daniel there.””
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“You've had three years to explain yourself.””
There was silence.
Then Vanessa spoke again.
“Rebecca was sick. She was confused. She made mistakes.””
Dad closed his eyes.
“Did you know about the baby?””
The silence that followed was different.
Longer.
Heavier.
Finally, Vanessa answered.
“Yes.””
I felt my stomach drop.
Dad gripped the metal door.
“What happened to him?””
“Marcus, let me in.””
“Answer me.””
“I can't explain this through a door.””
“Try.””
A pause.
Then she said:
“Rebecca wasn't supposed to keep him.””
I looked at Dad.
His face had become frighteningly still.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa sighed.
“She was young. She had no money. She was involved with people who could give the baby a better life.””
“Who?””
“People who were willing to help.””
“Who took my wife's child?””
Vanessa's voice softened.
“Marcus, you need to understand that Rebecca agreed.””
Dad shook his head.
“She wrote that she didn't.””
“She changed her mind.””
“Then why was she searching for him?””
“Because she regretted it.””
I felt something burning behind my eyes.
My mother had spent years looking for a child she had supposedly agreed to give away.
I couldn't make sense of it.
“Why did you tell her to stop?”” I asked.
Vanessa didn't answer.
I stepped closer to the door.
“Why were you at the hospital?””
A pause.
Then she said:
“Because I was helping her.””
“Helping her do what?””
“Ethan, you don't understand adult decisions.””
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“You used that excuse when you searched my schoolbag. You used it when you packed my clothes. You used it when you tried to send me away.””
“Watch your tone.””
“No.””
My voice shook.
But I didn't stop.
“You don't get to tell me what I can ask anymore.””
Dad turned toward me.
His eyes were wet.
Then he faced the door.
“Vanessa, I want you to leave.””
She didn't move.
“Marcus, if I walk away now, you'll never get the full story.””
“I'm willing to take that risk.””
“You're making a mistake.””
“No. I made a mistake when I married someone I didn't know.””
A sound came from the other side.
Something hit the metal door.
Then Vanessa spoke quietly.
“Rebecca didn't just lose one child.””
Dad went still.
“What?””
“She lost two.””
My heart seemed to stop.
Daniel lowered his phone.
“What are you talking about?””
Vanessa's voice cracked.
“Your wife had twins.””
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Dad.
He looked as though the ground had disappeared beneath him.
“Twins?”” he whispered.
“Yes.””
“Where is the other child?””
“I don't know.””
“Don't lie to me.””
“I'm not.””
Dad stepped back.
“Then why did Rebecca only search for one?””
Vanessa answered immediately.
“Because she believed the second baby had died.””
The words were so quiet I almost didn't hear them.
Dad shook his head.
“Who told her?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Who told her?””
“Adrian.””
Dad turned.
“Adrian Cole?””
“Yes.””
Daniel's face hardened.
“You're telling us he was involved in the disappearance of newborn children?””
Vanessa started crying.
“I didn't know what was happening at the time.””
Dad laughed without humor.
“You were at the hospital.””
“I was twenty-two.””
“You were old enough to know what you were doing.””
“I was helping someone I trusted.””
“Who?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
Daniel's phone rang.
He checked the screen.
“Police are on their way.””
Vanessa heard him.
Her crying stopped.
“Marcus, listen to me. You need to give me the notebook.””
“No.””
“You don't understand. That notebook contains information that could destroy innocent people.””
Dad looked at the storage unit.
“Then innocent people have nothing to worry about.””
A sharp metallic sound echoed outside.
The door shook.
Daniel stepped between me and the entrance.
“Stay behind me.””
A second later, the door rolled upward.
Vanessa stood outside.
Her hair was disheveled, and her emerald blouse had been replaced by a black coat.
She looked at the three of us.
Then her eyes went straight to the notebook in Daniel's hand.
“Give it to me.””
Dad stepped forward.
“No.””
She stared at him.
“You don't know what you're holding.””
“Then tell me.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because if you know the truth, you'll have to make a choice.””
Dad's expression hardened.
“Between what?””
Vanessa looked at me.
“Between your son and the life you've built.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What does that mean?””
She looked away.
Then she whispered:
“Adrian Cole is not just a man from my past.””
Dad frowned.
“What?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“He is Ethan's biological father.””
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
A truck passed somewhere outside.
My father stood perfectly still.
I looked at him.
Then at Vanessa.
“What did you just say?””
She wiped her cheeks.
“Rebecca had an affair.””
Dad's voice came out almost inaudible.
“That's a lie.””
“She never told you because she was afraid you'd leave.””
“Stop.””
“Adrian was the father of the twins.””
Dad stepped toward her.
“Stop talking.””
Vanessa's voice rose.
“You've spent your entire life believing you rescued Rebecca and her child. But the truth is, you were the second man she asked to help.””
Dad's face changed.
I had never seen him look so broken.
“Get out,” he said.
Vanessa shook her head.
“You asked for the truth.””
“I said get out.””
She turned toward me.
“Ethan, you should ask your father why he never questioned the dates.””
I frowned.
“What dates?””
Vanessa gave a bitter smile.
“Your mother married Marcus in 2009. You were born in 2009.””
Dad stared at her.
“Ethan is my son.””
“Of course he is.””
“Biologically.””
Vanessa looked at him.
Then she said:
“Are you sure?””
Dad took a step forward.
“Get out.””
This time, she backed away.
She looked at me one last time.
“Ask him about the hospital.””
Then she turned and walked down the corridor.
Daniel started after her.
Dad grabbed his arm.
“Let her go.””
“Marcus—”
“Let her go!””
Daniel stopped.
The police arrived ten minutes later.
We gave statements.
The officers photographed the documents and recorded Vanessa's visit.
She had already left the facility.
By the time we returned home, the sun had gone down.
Dad barely spoke during the drive.
I sat in the passenger seat, holding the photograph of Mom and the newborn baby.
At home, I went straight to the study.
I wanted answers.
Not explanations.
Not promises.
Answers.
Dad followed me.
“Ethan.””
I turned.
“Is she telling the truth?””
He looked exhausted.
“I don't know.””
“Did you ever question whether I was yours?””
“No.””
“Then why did she say that?””
“Because she's trying to hurt us.””
I looked at the photograph.
“Was Mom unhappy when I was born?””
Dad shook his head.
“She was the happiest person in the world.””
“Did she ever tell you about the twins?””
“No.””
I sat down.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then Dad opened the bottom drawer of his desk.
He removed an old leather folder.
“I've kept your birth records here since you were born.””
He placed them on the desk.
I looked at the documents.
My birth certificate.
The hospital discharge papers.
A copy of the original medical record.
Dad pointed to the date.
“September 17, 2009.””
I nodded.
“That's five years after the other baby.””
He nodded.
Then he pulled out another page.
It was a hospital record from the same day.
Two babies had been delivered.
One boy.
One girl.
My heart began pounding.
I read the names.
The first baby was listed as Baby A.
The second as Baby B.
Under Baby A, there was a note:
*Transferred to neonatal care.*
Under Baby B:
*No further record available.*
I looked at Dad.
“What happened to the second baby?””
He stared at the page.
“I don't know.””
I pointed to the bottom.
There was a signature.
Not Dad's.
Not Mom's.
The name was written in a hurried hand.
Vanessa Hale.
Dad stood abruptly.
“She signed the hospital record?””
I nodded.
He took the paper.
His eyes moved over it.
Then he turned it over.
A handwritten note appeared on the back.
*The second child must not be released to Rebecca Walker.*
Beneath it was another signature.
Adrian Cole.
Dad sat down heavily.
I stared at the two names.
Vanessa Hale.
Adrian Cole.
Then I noticed something else.
The hospital record had been printed on September 18, 2009.
The same day Mom had written in her notebook that someone had taken her child.
I looked at Dad.
“Why would Vanessa have been allowed to sign this?””
He didn't answer.
Instead, he picked up his phone.
He called the hospital.
The operator transferred him to medical records.
After several minutes, a woman answered.
“Good evening. How may I help?””
Dad explained the situation.
There was a long pause.
Then the woman spoke.
“Mr. Walker, I'm afraid those records were amended.””
Dad frowned.
“Amended by whom?””
“I'm unable to disclose that information without a formal request.””
“Can you tell me whether both children survived?””
Another pause.
Then the woman said:
“According to the original delivery record, both infants were alive.””
Dad closed his eyes.
“Both?””
“Yes, sir.””
“Then why does one record say no further information available?””
“I can't explain that.””
Dad's voice tightened.
“Can you tell me who authorized the amendment?””
The woman hesitated.
Then she answered.
“Your wife's signature appears on the request.””
Dad looked at me.
“That isn't possible.””
The woman continued.
“There's something else, Mr. Walker.””
“What?””
“The amendment was requested twelve years after the birth.””
My blood ran cold.
Twelve years after.
That meant someone had returned to the hospital long after the children were born.
Someone had changed the records.
And the request carried my mother's signature.
Except Mom had been dead for three years by then.
Dad ended the call.
Neither of us spoke.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared from Daniel.
*I've found the person who handled Rebecca's hospital records.*
Another message followed.
*She's alive. Her name is Patricia Moore.*
May you like
Then a final message.
*And she says she has been waiting fifteen years to tell you what really happened.*
