Chapter 10: My Mother Chose Her Favorite Child
"Your mother is waiting. But she only wants to see one of her children.""
I read the message again.
Then I looked at Nathaniel.
"She wants to see me?""
Detective Brooks shook his head.
"That's not what the message says.""
He enlarged the photograph.
Beneath the image was a second line I hadn't noticed.
The child who knows what happened to Richard.
Nathaniel's expression hardened.
"She's asking for me.""
Eleanor grabbed his arm.
"No. You're not going.""
He looked at her.
"Why?""
"Because your father made sure Grace would never have another opportunity to speak to you.""
"She's alive. She's in a hospital. What exactly are you afraid of?""
Eleanor looked toward the photograph.
"That she might finally tell you what you were never supposed to know.""
Nathaniel turned to Brooks.
"Find out which hospital.""
The detective nodded.
"Already working on it.""
I stood beside the desk, holding the silver locket.
Four babies.
Four names.
One secret that had somehow survived thirty years.
"Why did Grace only want to see one of us?"" I asked.
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
"Because she believes one of you is responsible for what happened to Richard.""
Nathaniel froze.
"Richard was murdered?""
Eleanor nodded.
"He died six years ago. The official report said he suffered a heart attack in his private study. But the night before he died, he received a visitor.""
"Who?""
Eleanor looked at me.
"Your mother.""
I felt the floor shift beneath my feet.
"Grace killed him?""
"I don't know.""
Nathaniel stepped away.
"You've spent years hiding things from us. I'm done accepting half-answers.""
Eleanor's voice trembled.
"Richard was found with a broken glass beside him. The medical examiner discovered traces of a substance that shouldn't have been there. But the report was changed before it reached the police.""
Brooks immediately looked up.
"Who changed it?""
"His personal physician. Dr. Samuel Whitmore.""
The detective wrote down the name.
"And where is he now?""
"Retired. Living in Connecticut.""
Nathaniel turned toward the photograph.
"Then we're going to the hospital.""
Brooks checked his phone.
"St. Agnes Medical Center. Grace Carter is registered under her legal name. She's been admitted for two days.""
I couldn't move.
My mother had been alive for seventeen years.
And now she was only a short drive away.
We left the archive under police escort.
During the journey, Nathaniel sat beside me in the back of the car.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
Finally, he said, "Do you think she'll recognize us?""
I looked at him.
"She gave birth to us. Of course she'll recognize us.""
He smiled sadly.
"I don't remember ever having a mother.""
I reached into my pocket and touched the photograph.
"Neither do I.""
When we arrived, a nurse led us to a private room on the fourth floor.
A security guard stood outside.
Detective Brooks showed his badge.
"We're here to see Grace Carter.""
The guard stepped aside.
I opened the door.
And there she was.
My mother.
Her dark hair had turned almost completely silver. Her face was thinner, and an oxygen tube rested beneath her nose. But her eyes were exactly the same as the ones in my childhood photographs.
She looked at me.
Then she began crying.
"Rose?""
I rushed toward the bed.
"Mom.""
She held my face between her hands.
"Oh, sweetheart.""
I pressed my forehead against hers.
For seventeen years, I had imagined this moment.
I had imagined anger. Questions. Apologies.
Instead, I simply cried.
"Why didn't you come back?"" I whispered.
Grace closed her eyes.
"I tried.""
"You let me believe you were dead.""
"I know.""
"You let me grow up alone.""
"I know, darling.""
I pulled away.
"Then explain it.""
Grace looked toward Nathaniel.
Her expression changed.
"He's here.""
Nathaniel stepped forward.
"Hello, Grace.""
She reached for his hand.
"My beautiful boy.""
He stared at her.
"Why did you ask to see only one of us?""
Grace swallowed.
"Because I needed to know whether you remembered.""
"Remember what?""
She looked at Eleanor.
Then back at him.
"The night your father died.""
Nathaniel frowned.
"I was in London that night.""
"That's what you were told.""
"What are you saying?""
Grace gripped his hand.
"You were in the house, Nathaniel. You were there when Richard was poisoned.""
Nathaniel stepped backward.
"No.""
"Your father made you sign a document that night. He told you he was changing his will. You refused.""
"I was twenty-three. I was in London.""
Grace began crying.
"Your father had already discovered the truth about the children. He threatened to send Rose away again. He told you that if you didn't cooperate, he would destroy her life.""
I felt Nathaniel's hand tremble.
"What happened next?"" he asked.
Grace looked toward the window.
"Someone entered the study. Someone your father trusted.""
"Who?""
She reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a small photograph.
It showed a woman standing beside Richard Callaway.
The woman wore a pearl necklace and a dark green dress.
Eleanor covered her mouth.
"Margaret.""
Grace shook her head.
"No.""
She turned the photograph over.
The name written on the back was:
*ELEANOR CALLAWAY.*
Nathaniel stared at the woman who had raised him.
"Mother?""
Eleanor began shaking her head.
Grace whispered:
"Your mother didn't just help hide the children, Nathaniel. She was the last person to see your father alive.""
Then she looked at me.
"And Rose, there's something else. The woman who raised your youngest sister is the person sitting beside your hospital bed.""
I turned toward Eleanor.
She was already crying.
May you like
Grace finished the sentence.
"Your sister has been calling Eleanor Mom for thirty years.""
