Chapter 9: The Memory I Lost
I dropped the letter.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The words remained on the page.
A sentence that made no sense.
A sentence that felt impossible.
I wrote this.
I asked them to take her.
But I didn’t remember.
“Sarah?””
Ethan’s voice sounded far away.
I looked at him.
“I wrote this.””
He didn’t answer.
That was the worst part.
He didn’t look surprised.
He looked afraid.
“You knew?””
“No.””
“Ethan.””
He stepped forward.
“I knew you lost memories after the birth.””
I stared.
“What?””
He swallowed.
“You had complications.””
My mind raced.
The hospital.
The delivery.
The exhaustion.
The medication.
“You told me it was stress.””
“It was.””
“But?””
He looked away.
“But there were things you forgot.””
I felt sick.
“How much?””
He didn’t answer.
“How much did I forget?””
Margaret quietly said:
“Everything about that night.””
I turned toward her.
“You were there?””
She nodded.
“I was.””
The room felt unreal.
“Tell me.””
Margaret looked at Ethan.
Then at Vanessa.
Then finally at me.
“After Lily was born, you woke up confused.””
I listened.
“You kept asking where the other baby was.””
My breath caught.
“What other baby?””
Margaret’s face filled with sadness.
“The baby you gave birth to.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“No.””
The word came out louder.
Because I couldn’t accept it.
“I had Lily.””
Margaret nodded.
“You did.””
“Then why?””
“Because you had two babies.””
The room disappeared.
Two babies.
I sat down.
My hands shook.
“That’s impossible.””
Margaret opened another file.
“The hospital records were altered.””
She showed me.
Two birth records.
Two babies.
Two heartbeats.
I looked at the dates.
Everything matched.
My mind started breaking apart.
Memories came in pieces.
Bright lights.
A nurse crying.
A baby’s cry.
A voice saying:
“Mrs. Carter, you need to make a decision.””
I closed my eyes.
“No.””
A memory surfaced.
A room.
A woman.
Claire.
Holding a baby.
And me.
Crying.
“No.””
Ethan grabbed my hand.
“Sarah.””
I pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.””
He froze.
Because I remembered something else.
I remembered him standing there.
Watching.
Knowing.
I looked at him.
“You were there.””
His face changed.
“Yes.””
“You knew.””
“I was trying to help.””
“You knew I had another child.””
“Yes.””
My voice cracked.
“And you let me forget?””
His eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t choose that.””
“Then who did?””
Nobody answered.
Then Vanessa whispered:
“Your father.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She looked at Ethan.
“He made sure she forgot.””
Ethan looked devastated.
“My father paid the doctors.””
Silence.
“He wanted the records changed.””
“Why?””
Ethan whispered:
“Because he found out something.””
“What?””
He looked at Lily.
Then at me.
“The baby you gave birth to…”
He paused.
“…was not biologically yours.””
I stared.
“What?””
“The hospital used a donor embryo.””
My mind went blank.
“No.””
“Sarah.””
“No.””
I stood.
“You’re saying my own child wasn’t mine?””
Ethan shook his head.
“No. I’m saying your daughter was always yours.””
“But?””
“But someone else wanted to use genetics to decide who deserved her.””
I looked at Lily.
She was watching me.
Confused.
Scared.
I went to her immediately.
I held her.
“I love you.””
She whispered:
“Even if I’m not your real daughter?””
My heart broke.
“You are.””
“But everyone keeps saying I’m not.””
I hugged her tighter.
“You are my daughter because I chose you every single day.””
For the first time that night, she cried.
And so did I.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
From Claire.
One sentence.
“He is awake.””
I stared.
“What?””
Another message appeared.
A photograph.
A hospital bed.
An old man lying there.
Ethan’s father.
But that wasn’t what made me freeze.
It was the person standing beside him.
The person holding his hand.
The person who had supposedly died seven years ago.
I dropped the phone.
Because standing beside Ethan’s father was the little girl from Vanessa’s photograph.
Older now.
Alive.
And underneath the picture was a message:
“You never lost your daughter, Sarah.””
May you like
A second message appeared.
“You lost the memory of saving her.””
