Chapter 8 - The Daughter in Plain Sight
Olivia Grant had worked for the Whitmore Foundation for three years and nine months.
Daniel had hired her personally.
He remembered the interview.
She had been twenty-two, newly graduated, intelligent, and unusually direct.
When he asked why she wanted to work for a charitable foundation, she had answered without hesitation.
"Because I know what it's like when a family needs help and nobody comes."
Daniel had liked her immediately.
He had promoted her twice.
Trusted her with complicated projects.
Invited her to family events.
She had even helped organize the anniversary memorial for Caroline.
Now he sat in his car outside the storage facility, staring at an old photograph of his wife.
Hannah watched him.
"Daniel?"
He didn't respond.
She looked at the picture.
Caroline Whitmore stood on a beach, laughing into the wind.
Her dark auburn hair fell across her face.
Olivia had the same hair.
The same narrow chin.
The same slight dimple beside her left cheek.
Hannah felt goose bumps rise along her arms.
"She looks like her."
Daniel nodded.
"I never saw it."
"Sometimes the thing you're looking for is too close."
He closed his eyes.
"She was at Caroline's memorial."
Hannah waited.
"She gave a speech."
His voice cracked.
"She said Caroline's foundation had saved her life."
Hannah touched his shoulder.
"Then we need to find her."
Olivia Grant was standing outside her apartment building when Daniel's car arrived.
She wore jeans, a cream sweater, and an old denim jacket.
Her hair was tied back.
She looked exhausted.
When Daniel stepped out, her expression changed.
"Mr. Whitmore?"
"Olivia."
"What's going on?"
He hesitated.
Hannah approached.
"My name is Hannah Park."
Olivia looked at her.
"I know."
Hannah stopped.
"You know me?"
Olivia nodded.
"I saw you at the gala."
"How?"
"On the news."
Daniel glanced at her phone.
The story had already spread.
Every major network was reporting allegations of a decades-old infant disappearance involving the Whitmore family.
Olivia looked frightened.
"Mr. Whitmore, is it true?"
Daniel swallowed.
"Some of it."
"Your daughter?"
He nodded.
"She may be alive."
Olivia's expression softened.
"I'm so sorry."
Daniel nearly broke.
Those three words sounded exactly like Caroline.
He looked away.
Hannah stepped forward.
"Olivia, do you know much about your birth?"
Olivia frowned.
"My birth?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"We're trying to understand some hospital records."
Olivia looked between them.
Then laughed nervously.
"Wait."
Neither spoke.
Her smile disappeared.
"Why are you asking me?"
Daniel took a breath.
"Because we have reason to believe your birth records may have been altered."
Olivia stepped backward.
"No."
"Olivia—"
"No."
She shook her head.
"My parents adopted me."
Hannah nodded gently.
"We know."
"My father told me everything."
"Did he tell you which hospital you were born in?"
Olivia hesitated.
"St. Catherine's."
Daniel closed his eyes.
Hannah asked, "What date?"
"June seventeenth."
Daniel gripped the car door.
Olivia stared.
"What's happening?"
Daniel could barely speak.
"Olivia, my daughter was born at St. Catherine's on June seventeenth."
Olivia's face drained.
"No."
"Twenty-six years ago."
She shook her head.
"No."
Hannah stepped closer.
"We aren't asking you to believe anything without evidence."
Olivia looked at Daniel.
Her eyes filled.
"Are you saying—"
"We don't know yet."
He swallowed.
"We need a DNA test."
Olivia wrapped her arms around herself.
"My dad is going to lose his mind."
Hannah asked, "Is he still alive?"
"Yes."
"Can we talk to him?"
Olivia shook her head.
"He has Alzheimer's."
Daniel's expression softened.
"I'm sorry."
Olivia stared at the sidewalk.
"My mother died when I was fourteen."
"Do you have her adoption records?"
"Some."
"Would you let us see them?"
Olivia hesitated.
Then nodded.
But before they could enter the building, a voice came from the steps.
"Olivia."
A middle-aged man stood beneath the entrance light.
He wore a worn brown coat.
His hands trembled.
Olivia turned.
"Dad?"
Daniel stared.
Olivia's father rarely left his assisted-living facility.
He had been brought here by a neighbor after repeatedly insisting he needed to speak with his daughter.
The older man looked straight at Daniel.
His clouded eyes suddenly sharpened.
"You."
Daniel frowned.
"Do I know you?"
The man began shaking.
"They told me she was abandoned."
Olivia rushed toward him.
"Dad, it's okay."
He pushed her hand away.
His voice rose.
"They gave me money!"
Daniel went still.
The man pointed at him.
"Your family gave me money to take her!"
Olivia stared at her father.
"What?"
He began crying.
"I thought I was saving her."
Daniel moved closer.
"Sir, who gave you the money?"
The man looked at him.
Then whispered a name.
"Eleanor."
Olivia stepped backward.
Her father grabbed her hand.
"Baby, I'm sorry."
She shook her head.
"Dad?"
He sobbed.
"I promised her I'd never tell."
Olivia's voice broke.
"Tell me what?"
The man looked toward Daniel.
May you like
Then said the words Olivia would remember for the rest of her life.
"Your mother never gave you away."
