Chapter 13 - The Second Daughter
For the first time since the gala, I found a question that made even Richard Caldwell look genuinely surprised.
"Who is the second daughter?"
We were in Sarah Keene's office.
The wooden jewelry box sat on the conference table.
My mother's pendant lay beside it.
Richard had arrived twenty minutes earlier after Sarah requested a formal explanation of his role as successor trustee.
He looked older than he had two nights before.
Exhaustion had deepened the lines around his eyes.
"I don't know," he said.
I stared at him.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Emily, I understand why you don't trust me."
"Good."
"But I have never seen that note."
I studied him.
"Would you swear to that?"
"Yes."
Sarah leaned forward.
"Then let's document it."
Richard nodded.
"Gladly."
I looked down at the words again.
Find the second daughter.
I had been raised as an only child.
I had never heard my parents speak about another daughter.
But I had also never known my mother had an identical twin.
I had never known I might have been born Rebecca Vale.
And until forty-eight hours ago, I had believed my husband couldn't walk.
I was beginning to understand that the absence of a memory wasn't evidence that something had never happened.
"Could it mean Eleanor?" I asked.
Margaret shook her head.
"Eleanor was Catherine's sister, not her daughter."
"Could it mean Rebecca?"
Richard looked thoughtful.
"Possibly."
I frowned.
"But Rebecca is supposed to be me."
Sarah lifted a hand.
"We need to separate what is established from what is only suspected."
She wrote three names on a legal pad.
Catherine Bennett.
Eleanor Vale.
Rebecca Vale.
Then she looked at me.
"We have records indicating Catherine and Eleanor were identical twins."
I nodded.
"We have a record naming Rebecca Eleanor Vale as a beneficiary under the name Emily Catherine Bennett."
"Yes."
"We have not yet obtained the original adoption file or verified the biological relationships."
I looked at the names.
"Then the second daughter could mean someone else."
"Yes."
I sat back.
For a moment, I couldn't think.
Then I remembered something.
"My father had an employee."
Frank Delaney looked up from his chair.
"What employee?"
"A woman who worked in the records department."
I closed my eyes.
I was eleven or twelve.
She had dark hair.
A soft voice.
She always brought two small cupcakes on my birthday.
I couldn't remember her surname.
But I remembered my father seemed unusually protective of her.
"Anna," I whispered.
Frank sat straighter.
"Anna?"
I looked at him.
"Do you remember?"
He frowned.
"Anna Cole?"
The name stirred something.
"Yes."
"She worked in document control."
"Where did she go?"
Frank hesitated.
"She left after Catherine died."
I stared at him.
"Did she have a daughter?"
He looked surprised.
"Yes."
My heart accelerated.
"How old?"
"About your age, I think."
I leaned forward.
"What was her name?"
Frank rubbed his forehead.
"It's been a long time."
"Please."
He closed his eyes.
Then opened them.
"Lucy."
I went completely still.
Lucy Cole.
I remembered her.
A little girl who sometimes waited in the company reception area.
We had played with plastic building blocks.
Once, she had drawn a picture of two houses connected by a bridge.
I had kept it in my desk for years.
"Lucy," I whispered.
Frank nodded.
"That's right."
I looked at Sarah.
"Can we find her?"
"We can try."
Richard looked troubled.
"Emily, there's no evidence the note refers to Lucy."
"I know."
I stood.
"But it's the first lead that doesn't come from someone who spent years lying to me."
Sarah looked at Frank.
"Do you have Anna Cole's employment records?"
"Some may still be archived."
"Let's preserve and review them."
Frank nodded.
I looked at my mother's pendant.
Three circles.
One line.
I remembered her explanation.
Every circle represented something worth protecting.
For years, I had assumed she meant the three of us.
My mother.
My father.
Me.
But what if she meant three children?
I shook my head.
That was speculation.
Dangerous speculation.
I had already learned what happened when people treated guesses as facts.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Nora Ellis.
The police have finished documenting the envelope.
There's something I forgot to tell you about the woman who brought it.
I called immediately.
"Nora?"
"Emily."
"What did you forget?"
"She wasn't alone."
My pulse quickened.
"Who was with her?"
"A younger woman."
"How young?"
"Early thirties."
I looked at Sarah.
She moved closer.
"Did you get her name?"
"No."
"Describe her."
Nora hesitated.
"Brown hair."
"Anything else?"
"She had a small birthmark near her collarbone."
I froze.
I remembered Lucy Cole.
We had gone swimming once at a neighborhood pool.
She had a reddish birthmark just below her left collarbone.
I had asked if it hurt.
She laughed and told me it was only a mark.
"Nora," I whispered.
"Yes?"
"Did the younger woman have a scar on her right wrist?"
A pause.
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
I remembered Lucy falling from a bicycle.
I had been standing beside her when she scraped her wrist against a metal fence.
My father helped clean the wound.
There had been blood.
Tears.
A promise of ice cream if we stopped crying.
"Are you certain?" I asked.
Nora's voice softened.
"I'm certain."
I stared at the wall.
The pieces were coming together.
Or perhaps I was forcing them.
I couldn't tell anymore.
"Did the woman say where she lived?"
"No."
"Did she mention a company?"
Nora paused.
"She said she worked in legal records."
I took a breath.
"Did she tell you why she came?"
"She wanted to know whether the hospital still had a patient transfer log."
"From the night of the fire?"
"Yes."
I looked at Sarah.
She was already writing.
Nora continued.
"Before they left, I heard the older woman say something."
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What?"
"She told the younger woman that Emily had to learn the truth before Mercer found her."
I closed my eyes.
"Found whom?"
There was a pause.
Then Nora answered:
"The other girl."
I couldn't speak.
Sarah leaned closer.
"Emily?"
I shook my head.
Nora continued quietly.
"And there's another thing."
"What?"
"The younger woman called the older one Aunt Catherine."
My heartbeat stopped.
I stared at the photograph on the table.
At the woman who looked like my mother.
At the impossible date.
At the note hidden inside the pendant.
Then, very slowly, I understood.
If Nora had heard correctly, Catherine was alive.
And the younger woman might know exactly where she was.
I looked at Sarah.
"Find Lucy Cole."
Sarah nodded.
"I'll begin with lawful records and contact information."
I turned back to the phone.
"Nora, did Lucy say anything else?"
"Not much."
"Please."
Nora hesitated.
"She asked whether a man named Alexander Whitmore had ever been treated at the institute."
I froze.
"What did you tell her?"
"That I remembered him."
"And?"
"She asked whether he was still pretending."
I felt the blood leave my face.
"Pretending?"
"Yes."
Nora's voice grew quiet.
"Emily, I don't think your husband's deception was a secret to her."
I stared at the phone.
"Why?"
"Because she said something very strange."
May you like
"What?"
"She said Alexander had finally run out of time."
