Chapter 7: Rebecca’s Letter
“What did Rebecca do?””
Maya didn’t answer immediately.
Through the phone, I heard paper trembling.
“Maya?””
“I’m here.””
“Read the next part.””
Her voice came quietly.
“‘Brooke was born healthy. My daughter, Lily, was born hours earlier with severe complications. Lydia knew I had been using drugs during my pregnancy. She knew questions would be asked if Lily died.’”
I closed my eyes.
Evan stood beside me outside Lydia’s empty house.
Maya continued.
“‘When Claire lost consciousness after delivery, Lydia told her Brooke had died. Later, when Lily died, Lydia switched the identification bracelets.’”
Evan whispered, “Jesus.””
“Keep going.””
“‘Claire woke believing Lily was mine and Brooke was dead. She was so broken that when I offered her “my baby,” she accepted without questioning anything.’”
My chest hurt.
Claire hadn’t secretly adopted Rebecca’s child.
She had unknowingly taken her own daughter home.
But someone had deliberately convinced her otherwise.
“Why?”” I asked.
Maya found the next paragraph.
“‘Because Lily’s death would have exposed me.’”
Evan turned away.
Rebecca’s letter explained everything.
She had been terrified that an investigation into Lily’s death would expose her drug use and the dangerous conditions surrounding the birth.
Lydia had been terrified too.
She had already violated hospital procedures by helping Rebecca.
So they created a lie.
Brooke became “Rebecca’s baby.””
Lily became “Claire’s stillborn daughter.””
And Claire carried the guilt for sixteen years.
Maya suddenly stopped reading.
“What?””
“There’s something handwritten at the bottom.””
“Read it.””
“‘Claire, if you ever learn the truth, don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it. But please understand one thing: Lydia wanted to confess. I stopped her.’”
Then came the final sentence.
“‘I threatened to destroy her career if she told Daniel.’”
Silence.
I stared at Lydia’s house.
“She wanted to confess,” I whispered.
Evan nodded toward the broken lamp visible through the doorway.
“Maybe she finally tried.””
My phone beeped.
Another call.
Claire.
I answered.
“Daniel, where are you?””
“Outside Lydia’s house.””
“Did you find her?””
“No.””
I looked at the DNA report.
“But I found something else.””
“What?””
“Brooke is ours.””
Silence.
“Claire?””
“What do you mean?””
“She’s biologically mine.””
I heard her breathing change.
“And yours.””
The sound Claire made didn’t resemble a word.
Then she started sobbing.
Not the defensive crying I had seen in our kitchen.
This was raw.
“You’re sure?””
“Ninety-nine point nine-nine percent.””
“Oh God.””
“She was ours the entire time.””
“I buried her.””
“What?””
Claire’s voice cracked.
“I visited a grave every year.””
My stomach dropped.
“What grave?””
“Lily’s.””
Claire was barely speaking now.
“Rebecca told me where they buried the baby I thought was ours. Every year on the anniversary, I went alone.””
I pressed my fingers against my eyes.
Sixteen years.
Claire had mourned a stranger’s child while raising her own.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because how could I? I thought I had replaced our dead daughter with Rebecca’s baby before you reached the hospital.””
“You should have told me.””
“I know.””
“And Maya?””
Claire went silent.
“You still stole from her.””
“I know.””
“Finding out you were manipulated doesn’t erase what you did to Maya.””
“I know!””
Her voice shattered.
“I know, Daniel.””
For the first time, she didn’t defend herself.
That mattered.
But it didn’t repair anything.
I heard Brooke in the background.
“Mom?””
Claire quickly lowered her voice.
“I have to go.””
“Don’t tell Brooke yet.””
“She deserves to know.””
“She deserves the truth when we understand all of it.””
Claire hesitated.
“Come home.””
“I will.””
Evan and I drove back.
Halfway there, Maya called again.
“Dad, I found something else in the box.””
“What?””
“A bank statement.””
My stomach tightened.
“Rebecca’s account?””
“Yes.””
“The one receiving the thirty-nine thousand?””
“Yes.””
“Whose name is controlling it?””
“That’s the weird part.””
“What?””
“It became part of a trust after Rebecca died.””
“For whom?””
Paper rustled.
Then Maya said a name I didn’t recognize.
“Lily Bennett.””
I frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“I know.””
Lily had died sixteen years ago.
Maya continued.
“But Dad… the trust has been making monthly payments.””
“To whom?””
“A woman named Natalie Bennett.””
Evan suddenly looked at me.
“What?”” I asked.
His face changed.
“I know that name.””
“Who is she?””
“Rebecca’s daughter.””
My pulse stopped.
“You said Lily was her daughter.””
“She had another.””
“When?””
Evan swallowed.
“Before Lily.””
“How old?””
“She’d be about twenty-five now.””
I looked back toward the road.
“And Claire never mentioned her?””
“I don’t think Claire knew.””
My phone vibrated.
Maya had sent me a photograph from the box.
A young woman stood beside Rebecca.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
NATALIE — THE ONE WHO MUST NEVER FIND BROOKE.
