Chapter 3: The Secret Hidden in Their Birth Records
I read the message three times.
Ask your mother what happened to the second birth certificate.
Then I looked at Victoria.
"What does that mean?""
She shook her head.
"Nothing. Someone is trying to frighten you.""
"Then tell me why you just said my daughters weren't supposed to be together.""
My mother pressed her lips together.
Elise moved closer to the cribs.
"Mr. Caruso, please don't let her take the girls.""
Victoria spun around.
"Take them? Don't be absurd!""
"You already tried once," Elise replied.
I turned sharply.
"What did she just say?""
My mother pointed toward the hallway.
"Dominic, this has gone far enough. I want that woman out of this house immediately.""
I didn't move.
"Elise, explain.""
She took a breath.
"When Isabella gave birth, there were complications. She was frightened because Dr. Reed kept asking her to sign documents she hadn't seen before.""
"What documents?""
"Consent forms. Guardianship papers. Something about a temporary medical arrangement.""
I frowned.
"Why would she need guardianship papers?""
"She didn't. Your wife was conscious and capable of making decisions.""
My mother interrupted.
"She was heavily medicated!""
Elise shook her head.
"She was not. I spoke with her. She was perfectly aware of what was happening.""
I looked at Elise.
"How were you involved in my wife's delivery?""
She hesitated.
Then she pulled a chair closer to the crib and sat down.
"Before I became a nanny, I worked as a patient care assistant at St. Catherine's Medical Center.""
I remembered the hospital.
It was the private facility where Isabella had delivered our daughters.
"You worked there?""
"Yes. I wasn't assigned to your wife's room initially. But one of the nurses asked me to bring her a blanket. I found her crying.""
Elise's voice softened.
"She was holding a photograph of you. She kept saying she needed to get home to her husband and babies.""
My throat tightened.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?""
"Because the hospital records were changed.""
My mother let out a bitter laugh.
"That's an extraordinary accusation.""
Elise looked directly at her.
"I saw the original records.""
I stepped closer.
"What records?""
"Two birth certificates were prepared. But only one set of documents was released to you.""
I stared at her.
"That's impossible. I registered both girls myself.""
"Did you?""
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
I remembered the hospital.
The endless corridors. The doctors speaking in quiet voices. The nurse who had handed me two tiny bundles.
I remembered signing a stack of paperwork.
I remembered my mother telling me she'd take care of the administrative details because I was too devastated to think clearly.
I remembered being told that Isabella had died.
I hadn't even attended the funeral.
My mother had arranged a private service.
She had told me Isabella's body had been transferred for immediate cremation because of complications.
I had believed her.
God help me, I had believed every word.
"Mom," I whispered.
"What did I sign?""
She looked away.
"Dominic, you were grieving.""
"What did I sign?""
"Some medical authorizations.""
"Did I sign a birth certificate?""
Victoria remained silent.
I pulled out my phone.
"Call the hospital.""
She grabbed my wrist.
"Don't.""
I stared at her hand.
"Let go.""
"You're making a terrible mistake.""
"Let go of me.""
She released my wrist.
I dialed the hospital's emergency administrative number and demanded the medical records department.
After several transfers, a tired administrator answered.
"This is Rachel speaking. How may I help you?""
"My name is Dominic Caruso. My wife delivered twin daughters at your facility eight months ago. I need the original birth and transfer records.""
"Sir, we'll need to verify your identity.""
"Do whatever you need to do.""
She asked several questions.
I provided the details.
There was a pause.
Then I heard typing.
"Mr. Caruso?""
"Yes.""
"I'm seeing a restricted medical file associated with your wife's name.""
My heart pounded.
"What does restricted mean?""
"Access was limited by a special administrative order.""
"Who authorized it?""
Another pause.
"The authorization was signed by Victoria Caruso.""
I looked directly at my mother.
She was staring at the floor.
"Who else had access?""
"Dr. Samuel Reed and a person listed as the patient's legal representative.""
"Who?""
The administrator hesitated.
"Mr. Dominic Caruso.""
I nearly dropped the phone.
"What?""
"Your signature appears on the authorization.""
I turned toward the desk and grabbed its edge.
"That's impossible. I never authorized anything to be hidden from me.""
"Sir, the file also contains an unusual note regarding the newborns.""
"What note?""
Her voice became quieter.
"One infant was transferred under a separate patient identification number.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Which infant?""
"I'm sorry. I can't disclose that over the phone.""
"Then tell me where the records are.""
"Mr. Caruso, someone has already requested that these documents be permanently sealed.""
"Who?""
She hesitated.
Then she said, "Your mother.""
The call ended.
I stood motionless.
My mother finally looked up.
"Dominic, please.""
I turned toward her.
"Which one of my daughters was transferred?""
She started crying.
Not the quiet tears of someone misunderstood.
These were the tears of someone whose secret was finally collapsing.
"I didn't want this to happen," she whispered.
"Which daughter?""
Elise stood beside me.
"Mr. Caruso, there's something else Isabella told me.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
She reached into her bag and removed a small envelope.
My name was written across the front in Isabella's handwriting.
I recognized the loops in the letters immediately.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of my wife holding the twins.
But there was something strange.
A third baby blanket lay beside her.
And on the back, Isabella had written:
Dominic, if they tell you one of our daughters was transferred for medical reasons, don't believe them.
I read the sentence again.
Then I found a second line.
One of the girls was never registered under her real name.
My knees nearly gave way.
"Elise," I whispered.
"What does this mean?""
She looked at Victoria.
My mother covered her mouth.
Then Elise spoke the words I would spend the rest of my life trying to understand.
"Mr. Caruso, your wife believed someone had planned to steal one of your daughters before she was even born.""
I looked at the two sleeping babies.
Maisie.
Rosie.
Both of them were breathing softly beneath their blankets.
Both of them were mine.
But as I looked at the photograph again, I noticed something I had missed.
There were three identification bracelets visible on the hospital table.
Not two.
Three.
And beneath the photograph was a final handwritten sentence.
The third baby is the reason they wanted me gone.
My phone rang.
May you like
The caller ID displayed a name I hadn't seen in eight months.
*ISABELLA CARUSO.*
