Chapter 9: The Woman at the Door
The call lasted less than thirty seconds.
Mark hung up without saying goodbye.
I stood.
"Who was it?""
He didn't answer.
"Mark.""
He looked at me.
"They said they found Rebecca.""
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Where?""
"A nursing home.""
"Is she alive?""
"Yes.""
Evan stepped closer.
"Does she know about the baby?""
Mark nodded.
"She never stopped looking.""
My eyes filled.
"Take me to her.""
Two hours later, we were standing outside a small nursing home on the edge of town.
The building was plain.
Brick walls.
White windows.
A plastic wreath hanging crookedly on the front door.
Nothing about it looked like the place where a twenty-nine-year-old secret had been waiting.
A nurse led us down a quiet hallway.
Room 214.
Before opening the door, she turned to me.
"She's been asking for your family.""
I swallowed.
"Why?""
The nurse looked confused.
"She said she was waiting for someone named Collins.""
My heart stopped.
That was my maiden name.
She opened the door.
An elderly woman sat beside the window.
Her hair was silver.
Her hands trembled slightly in her lap.
But her eyes were clear.
The moment she saw me, she began to cry.
"Oh.""
One word.
Then another.
"You look like him.""
I couldn't speak.
Mark stepped into the room.
"Rebecca.""
She stared at him.
"You're his son.""
"Yes.""
Her eyes moved back to me.
"And you.""
I nodded.
"I'm his daughter.""
She smiled sadly.
"I wondered if you would come.""
I sat beside her.
"My name is—"
"I know.""
She reached for my hand.
"You don't have to introduce yourself.""
Her fingers were warm.
"You have your father's hands.""
Tears filled my eyes.
"Did you have a daughter?""
She closed her eyes.
"Yes.""
"What happened to her?""
"I was told she died.""
Mark stood behind me.
"She didn't.""
Rebecca opened her eyes.
"I know.""
My breath caught.
"You know?""
"Your father found me.""
"When?""
"Years ago.""
"Did he tell you about your daughter?""
"He told me she was alive.""
My voice shook.
"Then why didn't you find her?""
Rebecca looked toward the window.
"Because I was told if I searched, she would disappear again.""
"Who told you?""
"Your grandfather.""
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
She continued.
"He said my baby had been placed with a good family. He said if I interfered, the child would be taken away.""
"Did you believe him?""
"I was twenty years old.""
She looked at me.
"I believed everyone who spoke with authority.""
I squeezed her hand.
"What happened after Dad found you?""
"He wanted to help.""
"Why didn't he?""
"Because he was afraid.""
"Of Grandpa?""
She nodded.
"Your grandfather had money. Influence. People who owed him favors.""
Mark spoke.
"Why did Dad keep it secret?""
Rebecca looked at him.
"Because he believed secrecy would keep the child safe.""
I felt anger rising.
"Everyone kept saying they were protecting someone.""
Rebecca's eyes filled.
"And everyone kept hurting someone instead.""
The words landed hard.
I looked down.
"Do you know where she is?""
Rebecca nodded slowly.
"I found her.""
My heart stopped.
"Where?""
"She sent me a letter.""
"Who?""
"My daughter.""
I could barely breathe.
"Where is the letter?""
Rebecca reached into the drawer beside her bed.
She removed a small envelope.
On the front was a name.
*Rebecca H.*
Inside was a single page.
I read it.
I don't know why I feel like I've spent my whole life missing someone.
But I think you are the person I've been missing.
I was told I was adopted when I was sixteen.
They told me my birth mother didn't want me.
I don't believe them anymore.
My hands shook.
At the bottom was a phone number.
And a name.
*Lillian Rose Carter.*
I looked at Mark.
He whispered, "That's her.""
My stomach twisted.
"She's alive.""
Rebecca nodded.
"Yes.""
"Where?""
"She lives three hours away.""
I stared at the number.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
*You found the file.*
Another arrived.
*Now stop looking.*
Evan stepped closer.
"Who is that?""
I showed him.
Mark took out his phone.
"Don't answer.""
Another message appeared.
*Your mother has already lost one daughter. Don't make her lose another.*
My blood ran cold.
I stared at those words.
"One daughter?""
Mark looked at me.
"What does that mean?""
I didn't know.
Then the nursing-home door opened.
A woman stood in the hallway.
She was around my age.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
A red scarf around her neck.
She looked at Rebecca.
Then at me.
Her face crumpled.
Rebecca gasped.
"Lillian.""
The woman covered her mouth.
"Mom.""
I couldn't move.
Neither could Mark.
The woman took one step into the room.
Then another.
She looked at me.
And I saw it.
The same tiny crease between the eyebrows that Lily had when she was concentrating.
The same shape of the mouth.
The same green eyes.
My heart began pounding.
Lillian whispered, "You're her.""
I shook my head.
"I don't understand.""
She smiled through tears.
"You should.""
She pulled a photograph from her purse.
It was a picture of a baby.
A tiny premature baby wrapped in a white blanket.
My hands went numb.
"That's me," she said.
May you like
Then she looked at me.
"And you're my sister.""
