Chapter 5 - MY MOTHER’S SECOND SECRET
“My family?”
I replayed the final sentence.
Then again.
Richard looked as confused as I felt.
My father had died before I married Richard.
My mother had written the letter exposing the truth.
I had no siblings.
There was only one close relative left.
Aunt Patricia.
My mother’s younger sister.
The woman who had helped raise me.
The woman who had held Ethan at his christening.
The woman who sent him birthday checks every year.
I called her.
She answered on the second ring.
“Claire, honey?”
“Did you know I had twins?”
Silence.
Long enough.
“Claire—”
“Answer me.”
Her voice dropped.
“Where are you?”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Another pause.
Then she whispered, “Richard told you?”
I nearly threw the phone.
“You knew?”
Ethan stared at me.
Noah’s face hardened.
Patricia started crying.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“How was it supposed to happen?”
“You were supposed to be protected.”
“From my own child?”
“From Charles.”
I closed my eyes.
Patricia told me to come to her apartment.
I almost refused.
Then she said something that changed my mind.
“I still have the original documents.”
Forty minutes later, Patricia opened her door.
She looked twenty years older than the last time I’d seen her.
Her eyes fell on Noah.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh, God.”
Noah stared at her.
“You know me?”
“I saw you when you were eleven minutes old.”
He flinched.
Patricia began crying harder.
“I’m so sorry.”
I pushed past her.
“No more crying. Explain.”
She opened a locked metal box.
Inside were copies of adoption documents.
Except they weren’t adoption documents.
They were temporary guardianship forms.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
Forged.
“You signed my name?”
Patricia shook her head.
“I witnessed it.”
“Who signed?”
She looked at Richard.
“Charles.”
Richard whispered, “My father forged Claire’s signature?”
Patricia nodded.
“He said the baby would be placed with a private family until things settled.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Patricia’s face collapsed.
“Because he had proof your mother had been stealing from the hospital charity.”
I stared.
“My mother never stole anything.”
“I know that now. But at the time, Charles had bank records. Transfers. He said she’d go to prison.”
Richard muttered, “He fabricated them.”
Patricia nodded.
“He gave us one hour.”
Noah stood silently near the window.
“Why didn’t anyone come find me?”
Patricia looked at him.
“Your grandmother did.”
My head snapped up.
“What?”
“She spent three years searching.”
“But Richard said his father sent pictures.”
“Fake pictures.”
Richard covered his face.
Patricia continued.
“Your mother finally found the agency handling Noah’s placement.”
Noah stepped forward.
“When?”
“When you were almost four.”
“What happened?”
Patricia looked terrified.
“She was supposed to meet the caseworker.”
The room went silent.
My mother’s house had burned down three days before Noah’s fourth birthday.
I whispered, “The fire.”
Patricia nodded.
“She told me she had proof Charles arranged everything.”
Richard stared at her.
“Are you saying my father burned down her house?”
“I’m saying after the fire, the proof disappeared.”
My skin went cold.
“But Mom survived another seven years.”
“She survived the fire.”
Patricia swallowed.
“She never recovered from the smoke damage.”
Then she pulled one final document from the box.
It was an insurance investigation report.
Across the top, stamped in red:
ACCELERANT DETECTED.
Arson.
Richard whispered, “Jesus Christ.”
Patricia looked at him.
“Your father didn’t just steal Claire’s child.”
She pushed the report toward us.
May you like
“He tried to kill the woman who was going to bring him back.”
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