Chapter 6: The Woman Who Came to Stop Me
Vanessa was waiting beneath the school's entrance canopy when we came downstairs.
She had changed into a black evening dress and high heels. Her hair was perfectly styled, and her makeup concealed every trace of the panic I'd seen on the patio.
She looked like a woman arriving at a charity gala, not someone who had just been exposed as a possible fraud.
The moment she saw me, she extended both arms.
"Emily, darling. Thank goodness.""
I didn't move.
She lowered her arms.
"Don't make a scene. We need to go home.""
Dad stepped between us.
"You're not taking her anywhere.""
Vanessa's smile faltered.
"Michael, please. This has gone far enough.""
"You hid a letter from my daughter. You concealed documents about her mother's estate. And now you've come to the school to stop her from meeting her aunt.""
"I came because Margaret has been lying to you.""
Margaret emerged behind us.
"Then tell us which part is a lie, Vanessa.""
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"You have no right to be here.""
"I'm Catherine's sister.""
"And you abandoned her when she needed you!""
Margaret flinched.
I stared at Vanessa.
"What are you talking about?""
Vanessa seized the opportunity.
"Your aunt hasn't told you the whole story. Your mother was unstable. She made reckless decisions. She put you in danger.""
Margaret's voice shook.
"That is not true.""
"Isn't it?"" Vanessa demanded.
"Where were you when Catherine disappeared? Where were you when Michael was raising a baby alone?""
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
"I searched for her every day.""
"And yet you never found her.""
"Because someone made sure I couldn't.""
Vanessa looked toward the school entrance.
"Michael, we need to discuss this privately.""
"No," Dad replied.
"We're discussing it here.""
Students were beginning to gather near the windows. A few recognized me and whispered to each other.
Vanessa noticed.
Her expression hardened.
"Do you really want everyone to see your family falling apart?""
Dad didn't hesitate.
"My family started falling apart when you decided my daughter was someone you could hurt without consequences.""
Vanessa's face reddened.
"After everything I've done for you, you're choosing her?""
Dad stared at her.
"She's my daughter. That was never a choice.""
Something flickered across Vanessa's face.
Anger, perhaps.
Or fear.
Then she looked directly at me.
"Emily, do you even understand what your aunt wants? She wants money. That's all this is about. She knows there's an inheritance, and she's trying to get her hands on it.""
Margaret shook her head.
"I haven't asked for a single dollar.""
"Of course you haven't. Not yet.""
I stepped forward.
"Why did you destroy my dress?""
Vanessa blinked.
"What?""
"My prom dress. Why did you pour dye on it? Why did you tell Madison to make sure I stayed home?""
She glanced at Dad.
"That was a family disagreement.""
"No. You said you couldn't risk a woman recognizing me.""
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
"Margaret has been searching for you for years. I was trying to protect you from a painful reunion.""
"Then why hide the letter?""
"Because I knew you'd misunderstand!""
I stared at her.
"You lied about my mother being dead.""
Vanessa's face changed.
Only slightly, but I saw it.
Dad saw it too.
"Answer her," he said.
Vanessa looked at the school doors, where more students had begun gathering.
Then she leaned closer to me.
"Your mother made choices that would have destroyed this family. If you keep digging, you'll learn things about her you won't be able to live with.""
I felt a strange calm settle over me.
"Maybe. But at least they'll be the truth.""
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"You ungrateful little—"
"Finish that sentence," Dad said quietly, "and you'll never step foot in my house again.""
She stopped.
For several seconds, the only sound was the distant hum of traffic.
Then Vanessa reached into her purse and pulled out her phone.
"If you want the truth, Michael, perhaps we should discuss the night Catherine disappeared.""
Dad went rigid.
"What do you know about that night?""
Vanessa glanced at Margaret.
Then she looked back at him.
"I know you weren't home when Catherine supposedly died.""
Dad's face drained of color.
I turned toward him.
"Dad?""
He swallowed.
"I was on a business trip.""
Vanessa nodded.
"Exactly. You were hundreds of miles away. You couldn't possibly know what happened.""
Margaret stepped closer.
"Vanessa, stop.""
"No," Vanessa snapped.
"I'm tired of being blamed for everything. Michael deserves to know what his beloved Catherine was really doing before she disappeared.""
Dad's voice became dangerously quiet.
"Tell me.""
Vanessa unlocked her phone.
"I have something that will explain why Catherine left.""
She scrolled through a series of files before holding the screen toward him.
It showed a scanned police report.
At the top was the case number associated with my mother's disappearance.
Beneath it was a photograph of a damaged car.
And beside the vehicle stood a woman with dark hair, wearing a coat I recognized from the family pictures.
My mother.
But the report was dated November 2012, three years after the accident Dad had always described.
I stared at the screen.
"Where did you get that?""
Vanessa's expression softened into something almost triumphant.
"From the private investigator who handled Catherine's case.""
Margaret grabbed the phone.
"That's impossible. I was never given this report.""
Vanessa pulled it away.
"Because you weren't supposed to have it.""
Dad looked at the document again.
"What does it say?""
Vanessa hesitated.
For the first time that evening, she seemed unsure whether to continue.
Then she lifted her chin.
"It says Catherine Carter was involved in a collision in Savannah in November 2012. The driver survived, but the passenger was never identified.""
My heart hammered.
"If Mom was the driver, who was the passenger?""
Vanessa looked directly at me.
"That's the question you should be asking.""
Dad seized her wrist.
"Stop playing games. Who was in that car?""
Vanessa yanked free.
"I don't know. But I know Catherine was alive three years after you buried her.""
Margaret's face had gone white.
She whispered something under her breath, then reached into her folder and pulled out a second document.
"Michael," she said, "I never wanted to tell you this without proof.""
Dad turned toward her.
"Tell me what?""
Margaret placed the document in his hands.
It was a hospital admission record from November 2012.
The patient's name had been blacked out, but the emergency contact field was still visible.
*Vanessa Carter.*
Dad stared at it.
Vanessa took a step backward.
I looked from the document to my stepmother.
"You knew Mom was alive.""
She shook her head rapidly.
"No. I knew nothing about that hospital record.""
"Then why were you listed as the emergency contact?""
"I don't know!""
Margaret's voice trembled.
"Because the woman admitted to that hospital was Catherine. And the hospital record says she arrived with a little girl.""
Dad's hands began to shake.
"What little girl?""
Margaret looked at me.
Then she turned the page.
The second document contained a handwritten note from the attending physician.
Female child, approximately three years old, brought to the hospital with the patient. Child repeatedly identifies patient as her mother.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
I was three years old in November 2012.
Dad looked at me, then at the record.
Vanessa backed toward the parking lot.
"Michael, don't listen to her.""
But he wasn't looking at Vanessa anymore.
He was staring at the hospital record, reading the final line again and again.
The child had been brought in with my mother.
And the emergency contact had been my stepmother.
May you like
Then Margaret pointed to the bottom of the page, where the physician had written one final note.
*Child released into the custody of Vanessa Carter.*
