Chapter 7: The Third Blackwood Child
"Take him to the security office," I ordered.
Two guards tightened their grip on the man who had delivered the envelope.
He didn't resist.
Instead, he kept smiling.
"You're making a mistake, Adrian.""
I stepped closer.
"Who sent you?""
"Someone who knows your family better than you do.""
"Thomas?""
The man tilted his head.
"Your uncle sends his regards.""
"Where is my sister?""
His smile widened.
"Ask the woman standing behind you.""
I turned.
Eleanor Hayes had gone completely pale.
"Mrs. Hayes?""
She clutched her handbag.
"Adrian, I need to explain something.""
Emma stepped forward.
"You knew about the third baby?""
Eleanor closed her eyes.
"Yes.""
Emma stared at her.
"All this time?""
"I was protecting her.""
"From whom?""
Eleanor looked toward Richard.
"From your uncle.""
My father gripped the back of a chair.
"Thomas took Elizabeth?""
Eleanor shook her head.
"No. Elizabeth was never with Thomas.""
"Then where is she?""
Eleanor hesitated.
"She was adopted by a family in Connecticut. They believed she was an orphan.""
Emma's voice cracked.
"Did she know she had siblings?""
"No.""
I walked toward Eleanor.
"How do you know all this?""
She opened her handbag and removed a second photograph.
This one showed three newborn babies lying beside each other in a hospital bassinet.
My mother was holding one tiny hand.
On the back, she had written three names.
Adrian.
Emma.
Elizabeth.
Underneath them was a sentence.
If they ever find each other, let them know I loved them equally.
Emma began crying.
I put my hand on her shoulder.
For years, I had believed my life was complicated because of my father's business, my mother's death, and Vanessa's betrayal.
Now I was discovering that my entire childhood had been built around a secret.
"Why didn't you tell us?"" I asked Eleanor.
She looked at me.
"Because Thomas threatened to kill the children if your mother exposed him.""
"And you believed him?""
"I saw what he was capable of.""
She opened another compartment in her handbag.
Inside was a folded document.
"Your mother gave me this shortly before she died. She said it would prove everything.""
I unfolded it.
It was a medical report from St. Catherine's Hospital.
The document confirmed the birth of three children.
But something else caught my attention.
The section containing the name of the person who had signed the adoption papers had been altered.
I looked closer.
The signature wasn't my mother's.
It belonged to Richard Blackwood.
I raised my eyes.
"Father?""
Richard looked as if he had been struck.
"I didn't sign that.""
Eleanor shook her head.
"You did.""
"I would remember signing adoption papers.""
"You signed them after your wife died. Victor told you they were documents transferring guardianship.""
Richard stared at her.
"You're lying.""
"Look at the date.""
He took the paper.
His hands began shaking.
The date was two weeks after my mother's funeral.
I remembered that period.
My father had barely spoken to me. He had spent most of his time in his office, surrounded by lawyers and business associates.
I had assumed he was grieving.
Perhaps he had been.
But someone had also used his grief to make him sign away his daughter.
Emma stepped toward him.
"You gave away our sister?""
Richard looked at her helplessly.
"I didn't know.""
"That's what everyone keeps saying!""
Her voice echoed through the hall.
"Nobody knew. Nobody remembered. Nobody protected us. And somehow we're supposed to accept that?""
I couldn't blame her.
I felt the same anger.
My phone rang.
The screen displayed an unfamiliar Connecticut number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice came through.
"Is this Adrian Blackwood?""
"Yes.""
"My name is Elizabeth. I think we need to talk.""
My heart stopped.
Emma grabbed my arm.
"Ask her something.""
I swallowed.
"Are you calling about a photograph?""
There was a pause.
"Yes.""
"Where did you get it?""
"Someone left it outside my apartment this morning.""
"Who?""
"I don't know. But there was a note.""
"What did it say?""
Her voice became quieter.
"It said my biological family had been searching for me.""
I closed my eyes.
"Elizabeth, I think we may be your family.""
Silence.
Then she asked a question that shattered me.
"Is my mother alive?""
I looked at Emma.
Then at the photograph of our mother.
"No," I whispered.
"I'm sorry. She died eleven years ago.""
Elizabeth began to cry.
"Then why did someone tell me she was murdered?""
I froze.
"Who told you that?""
Before she could answer, I heard a car horn in the background.
Then a man's voice.
"Miss Blackwood? Your ride is here.""
Elizabeth suddenly stopped crying.
"Adrian, there's someone outside my apartment.""
"Don't go anywhere.""
"He's holding another photograph.""
"What photograph?""
She whispered the answer.
"A picture of you.""
Then the call disconnected.
I immediately dialed her number again.
No answer.
I turned toward my security chief.
"Get the car ready. We're going to Connecticut.""
But Eleanor grabbed my sleeve.
"Don't go.""
I looked at her.
"Why?""
She pointed at the photograph of Elizabeth.
"Because the man who just called her isn't your uncle's messenger.""
May you like
Her voice trembled.
"He's the man who delivered your mother's death certificate.""
