Chapter 6
My father’s recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the phone.
“Play it again.”
Michael did.
Every word was the same.
Emily found the missing child.
She is alive.
Living under a different name.
With someone I already knew.
My mind raced through every family I had met.
Neighbors.
Friends.
Coworkers.
School parents.
Relatives.
“Who?”
Michael answered quietly.
“The recording doesn’t say.”
I nearly screamed.
“You said this was a file.”
“There are more documents.”
“Then read them.”
“I’m doing that now.”
Paper moved on his end.
Officer Bennett had called for another unit.
Margaret sat silently with her wrists restrained in front of her.
Daniel stood by the window like he had forgotten how to move.
I paced.
“Emily knew where my daughter was.”
Michael said, “Apparently.”
“And she never told me?”
“She may have been trying.”
“The night she died?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
I remembered my last voicemail from Emily.
Hey, Sar. Call me when you can. I found something crazy.
I had been feeding three-month-old Lily.
Exhausted.
I texted her.
Tomorrow?
She replied with a heart.
She died before sunrise.
I had deleted that voicemail years ago.
Now I would have given anything to hear it once more.
“Michael.”
“Yes?”
“What did Emily find?”
“Thomas mentions a private investigator.”
“Name?”
“David Sloan.”
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
Officer Bennett wrote it down.
“We’ll locate him.”
Michael continued sorting papers.
“There’s a photograph.”
My heart stopped.
“Of who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Describe it.”
“A girl.”
“How old?”
“Maybe five.”
My knees weakened.
“Five now?”
“No. The photo is dated four years ago.”
Daniel turned.
“So she would be around five now.”
Like Lily.
Of course.
Twins in age.
Not blood.
Two girls connected by the same night.
“What does she look like?”
Michael hesitated.
“Sarah.”
“Tell me.”
“Dark blond hair. Green eyes.”
My eyes.
My father’s green eyes.
“What is she wearing?”
“A yellow coat.”
I closed mine.
I couldn’t picture her.
I was terrified to.
“What’s written on the back?”
Michael went quiet.
“Michael?”
“A name.”
I stopped moving.
“What name?”
“Anna.”
The name hit me strangely.
Not recognition.
Something close to it.
Anna.
I knew an Anna.
Many Annas.
But a five-year-old?
Then it came to me.
“Anna Blake.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Who?”
My hands started shaking.
“Emily’s friend.”
“Which friend?”
“Rachel Blake.”
I hadn’t seen Rachel in years.
She and Emily had been close in college.
After Emily died, Rachel came to the funeral carrying a little baby.
A baby girl.
Daniel stared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
I remembered asking Rachel the baby’s name.
Anna.
She told me Anna was four months old.
Almost exactly Lily’s age.
My skin prickled.
“Michael, is there anything on the back besides the name?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“R.B.”
I sat down hard.
Rachel Blake.
Daniel whispered, “Where does she live?”
“I don’t know.”
I grabbed my phone and searched old contacts.
Rachel.
Nothing.
Social media.
Inactive account.
Last post four years ago.
A photograph of a toddler in a yellow raincoat.
I stopped breathing.
There she was.
Green eyes.
Dark blond hair.
A dimple in her left cheek.
The same dimple my father had.
The same dimple I had.
My hands trembled.
“This is her.”
Daniel came closer.
I turned the screen.
He stared at the photo.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You can’t know from a picture.”
“I know.”
Officer Bennett stepped over.
“Do not contact her yet.”
I looked at him.
“She has my child.”
“If that’s true, we need to handle this carefully.”
“I carried that child.”
“And the woman raising her may believe she’s her daughter.”
I hated that he was right.
Michael said, “There’s an address.”
“Tell me.”
“Wait.”
“Michael.”
“It’s old.”
“I don’t care.”
He read it.
A town thirty miles away.
I knew the neighborhood.
Daniel grabbed his keys.
“I’ll drive.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“Sarah.”
“You’re not coming.”
His face changed.
“I’m her father.”
“Are you?”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
Daniel looked like I had hit him.
I immediately regretted it.
But I couldn’t take them back.
He whispered, “I raised Lily too.”
“I know.”
“And if that little girl is yours, then she’s mine in every way that matters.”
I looked at him.
“You lied to me.”
“I was afraid.”
“You stole from me.”
“To find the truth.”
“You worked with your mother.”
“No.”
Margaret laughed bitterly.
“You gave me the key.”
Daniel turned.
“You gave me the key.”
“You asked me to retrieve it.”
“I asked you if you knew where Sarah kept it. I never told you to steal it.”
“You were happy enough to use it.”
“Stop.”
Officer Bennett stepped between them.
“This argument can wait.”
Margaret suddenly looked at me.
“Rachel doesn’t have your daughter.”
I stared at her.
“How do you know?”
“She can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Rachel Blake is dead.”
The room went silent.
I felt cold.
“What?”
Margaret swallowed.
“She died last year.”
I looked at Officer Bennett.
“Check.”
He radioed dispatch.
Two minutes later, confirmation came.
Rachel Elizabeth Blake.
Deceased.
Eight months ago.
Car accident.
Another car accident.
My stomach twisted.
“Who has Anna?”
Officer Bennett asked dispatch for next-of-kin records.
While we waited, Margaret stared at the floor.
I walked toward her.
“You knew Rachel.”
“No.”
“You knew she was dead.”
“I read about it.”
“Why?”
Margaret didn’t answer.
Daniel looked at her.
“Mom.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Margaret’s voice dropped.
“Rachel contacted me before she died.”
I felt rage.
“Why?”
“She wanted money.”
“For what?”
“She said she knew what happened at the hospital.”
Officer Bennett stepped closer.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you meet her?”
“No.”
“Did you pay her?”
“No.”
“Did your husband?”
“Richard was already dead.”
“Daniel?”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“Did Rachel threaten to tell me?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“She disappeared before she could.”
“Disappeared?”
“Stopped calling.”
“And eight months ago she died.”
Margaret said nothing.
My blood ran cold.
“How convenient.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“You hurt my five-year-old less than an hour ago because she saw you stealing.”
“I did not kill Rachel.”
“Did you kill my father?”
“No!”
“Emily?”
“No!”
Her voice cracked.
Officer Bennett watched her carefully.
Then his radio came alive.
Dispatch had a result.
Rachel’s emergency contact.
Sister.
Melissa Ward.
Custody of minor child transferred after Rachel’s death.
Address listed two towns away.
I knew that name too.
Melissa Ward.
Not personally.
But I had met her once.
At Emily’s funeral.
She was the woman who stood beside Rachel.
Holding the baby.
Holding Anna.
I grabbed my coat.
Officer Bennett stopped me.
“You’re not going alone.”
“Fine.”
“I need detectives involved.”
“How long?”
“I can’t promise—”
“My daughter has already waited five years.”
He looked at me.
“Mrs. Carter, walking into that home and announcing that their child may be yours could traumatize both children.”
His words hit hard.
Both children.
Lily.
Anna.
I forced myself to breathe.
“What do we do?”
“We verify.”
“How?”
“DNA.”
Daniel spoke.
“Then test Lily too.”
I looked at him.
He swallowed.
“If everything Elaine said is true, Rebecca Carver deserves the truth too.”
I hated him for being right.
And loved him for thinking of Lily.
That contradiction hurt.
Officer Bennett nodded.
“We’ll contact investigators.”
Then Jenna called.
I answered immediately.
“Is Lily okay?”
“She’s fine.”
Jenna sounded confused.
“But Sarah… there’s a woman outside my house asking for Lily.”
My body went cold.
“What woman?”
“She says her name is Rebecca.”
I looked at Daniel.
He knew before I said it.
“Carver?”
Jenna whispered, “Yes.”
I ran.
Across the yard.
Officer Bennett behind me.
Daniel behind him.
At Jenna’s front gate stood a woman in her thirties.
Dark hair.
Tears streaming down her face.
She held a faded hospital bracelet.
When she saw me, she went still.
“You’re Sarah.”
I stopped several feet away.
“Yes.”
Her eyes moved toward Jenna’s front window.
Lily stood behind the glass.
Rebecca began shaking.
“Oh my God.”
I stepped between her and the house.
“How do you know Lily?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“My daughter.”
I felt as if someone had punched me in the chest.
“No.”
“She’s mine.”
“No.”
“I have proof.”
She lifted the hospital bracelet.
The name on it read:
BABY GIRL CARVER.
Then she opened her other hand.
Inside was a recent DNA report.
Daniel stepped closer.
Rebecca looked at him.
“You’re Daniel Carter.”
He nodded.
Her face twisted.
“Your father stole my baby.”
I whispered, “Who gave you that test?”
“Your sister.”
My entire body went cold.
“Emily died five years ago.”
Rebecca stared at me.
“I know.”
May you like
Then she said the impossible.
“But she mailed this to me three weeks ago.”
