Chapter 12: The Mother Who Forgot Me
I stared at the photograph.
My mother was alive.
But she didn't remember me.
Rebecca sat beside me.
"Isabelle suffered a traumatic brain injury. She recovered physically, but her memory never fully returned.""
"Does she remember Dad?""
Rebecca shook her head.
"Sometimes she remembers pieces of her old life. Sometimes she believes she's still in the hospital.""
Dad gripped the back of a chair.
"Why didn't you tell us?""
Rebecca looked at him with exhausted eyes.
"I tried.""
She walked to a cabinet and removed a thick folder.
"After Isabelle recovered enough to speak, she asked me to find her family. I contacted the number Daniel had provided, but Nicole answered.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"What did she say?""
Rebecca opened the folder.
"She told me Richard had remarried, Maya had been adopted by another family, and nobody wanted Isabelle back.""
I felt sick.
"She told you I had been adopted?""
Rebecca nodded.
"She said you were happy and that contacting you would only confuse you.""
Dad shook his head.
"That's a lie.""
"I know that now.""
Rebecca continued.
"Later, I found your father's real number. I called it. Nicole answered again. She told me Richard was dead.""
Dad looked as though someone had struck him.
"She told you I was dead?""
"Yes.""
I covered my mouth.
For eight years, Nicole had controlled the information reaching everyone.
She had convinced Dad that Mom was dead.
She had convinced Mom that Dad was dead.
And she had made sure I grew up believing I had been abandoned.
Rebecca opened another folder.
Inside were copies of letters.
Dozens of them.
Some were addressed to Dad.
Others were addressed to me.
Every envelope had been returned.
The reason printed across them was identical.
*RECIPIENT DECEASED OR UNAVAILABLE.*
Dad picked up one of the letters.
"She tried to reach us.""
Rebecca nodded.
"Every birthday. Every Christmas. She wrote whenever she could remember enough to put her thoughts together.""
I looked at one envelope.
It was addressed to me when I turned thirteen.
My mother had written:
Happy birthday, my brave girl. I hope you still love strawberry cake.
I remembered that birthday.
Nicole had bought me a plain vanilla cake and told me I was too old to complain.
I held the letter against my chest.
"Can I see her?""
Rebecca looked toward the staircase.
"She's upstairs. But please don't overwhelm her. Her memory can be fragile.""
Dad nodded.
We climbed the stairs slowly.
At the end of the hallway was a white bedroom door.
Rebecca knocked.
"Isabelle? Someone is here to see you.""
A soft voice answered.
"Come in.""
Rebecca opened the door.
My mother sat beside the window, wearing a pale blue sweater.
Her hair was shorter than I remembered. Her face was thinner. There were faint scars near her hairline.
But her eyes.
Those were exactly the same.
She looked at Rebecca.
"Who is this?""
Rebecca approached her.
"Someone very special.""
My mother turned toward me.
I couldn't move.
"Hello," she said gently.
My voice broke.
"Hi, Mom.""
She studied my face.
Then she smiled politely.
"That's a beautiful name.""
I started crying.
Dad stepped forward.
"Isabelle?""
She looked at him.
For a moment, something flickered in her expression.
"Do I know you?""
Dad knelt beside her chair.
"I'm Richard.""
She stared at him.
Then she touched his cheek.
"Richard?""
Dad began sobbing.
"Yes, sweetheart. It's me.""
My mother looked confused.
"I thought you were gone.""
"I'm here.""
She reached for his hand.
Then she looked at me again.
"Is she your daughter?""
Dad swallowed.
"She's our daughter.""
My mother studied my face.
I took one careful step closer.
"I'm Maya.""
She repeated the name softly.
"Maya.""
I nodded.
"Your little girl.""
She looked at my hair, my eyes, and my trembling hands.
Then she reached for me.
"Come here.""
I fell into her arms.
She held me gently, as though she was afraid I might break.
I buried my face against her shoulder.
She smelled faintly of lavender.
The same smell I remembered from childhood.
"Mom," I whispered.
"I missed you.""
She stroked my hair.
"I missed someone too.""
I pulled back.
"Do you remember me?""
She looked at my face for a long moment.
Then she touched the small birthmark beside my left eyebrow.
Her lips parted.
"You had this when you were little.""
My heart stopped.
"Yes.""
She smiled.
"You used to cry whenever I brushed your hair.""
I laughed through my tears.
"I still hate having it brushed.""
For a brief moment, her eyes seemed clearer.
"Maya?""
"Yes, Mom.""
She kissed my forehead.
"My beautiful girl.""
Dad held both of us.
Rebecca quietly left the room.
For the first time in eight years, our family was together.
But the moment didn't last.
My mother's expression suddenly changed.
She pulled away and looked toward the door.
"Did you bring him?""
Dad frowned.
"Bring who?""
My mother began trembling.
"Daniel.""
The room went silent.
"Isabelle, Daniel isn't here," Dad said.
She shook her head violently.
"Don't let him come inside.""
I held her hand.
"Mom, you're safe.""
She leaned close to me.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He wasn't alone that night.""
Dad froze.
"What do you mean?""
My mother looked directly at him.
"Daniel was driving the car, but someone else was waiting at the bridge.""
"Who?""
She began breathing faster.
"Someone who knew you. Someone who had your keys.""
Dad shook his head.
"Isabelle, who was it?""
My mother suddenly gripped my wrist.
"Richard, listen to me. You have to find the original hospital records.""
"We will.""
"No!"" she cried.
"Not those records. The records from the night Maya was born.""
I stared at her.
"Why my birthday?""
My mother looked at me with tears in her eyes.
Then she whispered something that made Dad stagger backward.
"Because the woman who raised you isn't the only person who lied about your birth.""
I couldn't speak.
"What are you saying, Mom?""
She pointed toward Rebecca's folder.
"There's a second birth certificate.""
Dad slowly turned toward Rebecca.
Rebecca looked devastated.
"Isabelle, I promised I wouldn't tell her until you were ready.""
My mother began crying.
"I can't keep hiding it anymore.""
She took my hand.
"Maya, there is something about your biological father that Richard doesn't know.""
Dad's face went pale.
"Isabelle, what are you saying?""
My mother looked at him.
And then she gave the answer none of us had expected.
"Richard, you didn't meet me by accident.""
She swallowed.
"Daniel introduced us because he knew exactly who I was.""
Dad stared at her.
"Why?""
My mother closed her eyes.
"Because before I married you, I was carrying a secret that belonged to your entire family.""
She reached for Rebecca's folder.
And pulled out a photograph of three newborn babies.
On the back were three names.
Richard Bennett.
Daniel Carter.
And Isabelle Bennett.
Beneath them, my mother had written:
*THE NIGHT THE THREE OF US MADE A PROMISE.*
My father stared at the photograph.
Then he whispered:
"What did we do, Isabelle?""
May you like
My mother looked at him through her tears.
"Something Daniel has spent seventeen years trying to make sure you never remember.""
