Chapter 5: The Woman Who Signed My Mother's Death Certificate
I didn't open the door.
Instead, I pulled Lily behind me and told Vanessa to take her upstairs.
My wife refused.
"Mark, please. We need to hear what he has to say.""
I stared at her.
"You've had eight months to tell me the truth.""
She lowered her eyes.
Another knock sounded.
Then my father's voice came through the door.
"Mark, I brought someone who can answer your questions.""
A woman's voice followed.
"Please, Mark. It's Evelyn.""
Vanessa gasped.
"Mom?""
The sound of that single word changed everything.
I moved toward the door.
"Vanessa, stay behind me.""
I opened it just enough to look outside.
An elderly woman stood beside my father.
Her silver hair was tied into a bun. She wore a dark coat and held a worn leather handbag against her chest.
I recognized her from the photograph.
Evelyn Cross.
The woman who had signed my mother's death certificate fifteen years earlier.
My father stepped forward.
"Let us in.""
I blocked the entrance.
"You're supposed to be dead.""
He smiled.
"Apparently, your family has a talent for believing the wrong things.""
Evelyn looked past him.
"Vanessa, sweetheart?""
Vanessa appeared behind me.
"Mom?""
The old woman began crying.
Vanessa rushed forward, but Evelyn stopped her.
"Don't touch me yet.""
Vanessa froze.
"Why?""
"Because I've done terrible things.""
My father sighed impatiently.
"Can we stop the theatrics?""
I looked at him.
"You're not coming inside until you tell me why you're alive.""
He glanced at Evelyn.
"She's the one who can explain that.""
I finally stepped aside.
They entered.
My father removed his coat and placed it over the back of a chair as though he had never left.
That casual gesture made my skin crawl.
He looked toward the hallway.
"Where is Michael?""
"Somewhere you can't reach him.""
My father smiled.
"You're still as stubborn as your mother.""
Michael appeared at the doorway.
His face was pale, but his eyes burned.
"Don't say her name.""
My father looked at him.
"Michael. You look terrible.""
"Eight years in a coffin would've been more comfortable.""
My father ignored the remark.
Evelyn sat down at the dining table.
She opened her handbag and removed an old envelope.
"I have something your mother wanted you to see.""
I took the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of my mother holding two newborn babies.
This time, I noticed something I hadn't seen before.
One baby wore a blue bracelet.
The other wore a red one.
"Which one was me?"" I asked.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
"The baby in blue.""
I looked at the silver bracelet Lily had found.
It was engraved with the same name.
"Lily.""
Evelyn nodded.
"Your mother named the other baby Lily. She wanted that child to carry her grandmother's name.""
I felt confused.
"Then why was Vanessa holding that baby in the old photograph?""
Evelyn looked at her daughter.
"Because Vanessa was the person who helped me move the baby.""
Vanessa's face crumpled.
"Mom, please don't.""
Evelyn continued.
"Your father had discovered that your mother planned to leave him. She had evidence of his financial crimes. She also knew he had been using the hospital to falsify records.""
My father interrupted.
"Enough.""
Evelyn ignored him.
"Your mother was afraid he would take the children. So she asked me to protect one of them.""
I gripped the table.
"Which one?""
Evelyn looked directly at me.
"Vanessa was the one who carried the baby out of the hospital.""
I turned toward my wife.
She was crying silently.
"You knew?""
Vanessa nodded.
"I was sixteen. My mother told me the baby was in danger. She said we were saving her.""
"Where did you take her?""
Evelyn answered.
"To another family. A family who couldn't have children.""
I looked at my father.
"Who?""
He finally spoke.
"The Whitmores.""
The name meant nothing to me.
Evelyn reached into her handbag again.
She removed a yellowed newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
*LOCAL COUPLE WELCOMES ADOPTED DAUGHTER AFTER YEARS OF STRUGGLING TO HAVE CHILDREN.*
Beneath it was a photograph.
A wealthy couple stood outside a hospital, holding a newborn girl.
The woman wore a familiar necklace.
My mother's necklace.
I leaned closer.
"Who are these people?""
Evelyn whispered.
"Charles and Margaret Whitmore.""
My father stood abruptly.
"That's enough. We're leaving.""
Michael stepped into his path.
"Not until you tell them why you killed their mother.""
My father looked at him with pure hatred.
"I didn't kill anyone.""
Evelyn began sobbing.
"I did.""
The room fell silent.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
I stared at the old woman.
"What did you just say?""
Evelyn placed both hands on the table.
"I signed the death certificate. But your mother wasn't dead when I did it.""
My heart pounded.
"What?""
"She was unconscious. Your father paid me to declare her dead and move her to a private facility.""
I gripped the chair.
"Where?""
Evelyn shook her head.
"I thought she died there. I was told she had been buried.""
Michael suddenly leaned forward.
"No.""
I looked at him.
"What?""
He pointed at the newspaper clipping.
"Look at the date.""
I checked.
It was published fifteen years ago.
The same week my mother supposedly died.
Michael's voice trembled.
"Mark, the Whitmores didn't adopt your sister.""
I looked at him.
"Then who did they adopt?""
May you like
He stared at the photograph.
"Your mother.""
