Chapter 4
Margaret agreed to meet us.
She was working at a diner on the edge of town — the same kind of place I'd worked. She was in her fifties, tired-eyed, with her hair pulled back. When she saw Adrian, she started crying.
"Mr. Adrian," she said. "I tried. I tried to call you. They blocked my number. They told everyone I was a thief. I couldn't get near you."
He took her hands. "Margaret, I'm so sorry. I believed them. I shouldn't have. Tell me everything. From the beginning."
She told us over coffee. How she'd overheard Eleanor — Adrian's mother — on the phone with Victoria. Planning. How they'd found a Jane Doe, an unidentified body from a car accident, and arranged for the dental records to be swapped. How they'd told Adrian I was dead. How they'd told me Adrian had married Victoria and wanted nothing to do with me or the baby.
"They paid someone at the hospital," Margaret said. "Someone in the records department. I have the name. I wrote it down. I kept everything — I knew someday someone would listen."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook. Dates. Times. Names. Phone numbers. A handwritten ledger of everything she'd witnessed.
Adrian's hands were shaking as he took it.
"Margaret," he said. "Would you testify? In court? Against my mother and Victoria?"
She looked at him. Then at me. At the children playing on the floor beside me — Lily had brought her doll and was showing it to Mia.
"If it helps those babies," Margaret said, "I'll testify anywhere."
We left the diner with the notebook. The evidence was building. The emails. The fake death certificate. Margaret's testimony. Victoria's recorded threat.
Adrian went to confront his mother.
I went with him. I didn't want to. But I needed to see her face.
Eleanor lived in a penthouse overlooking the park. She opened the door in a silk robe, her hair perfect. When she saw Adrian, she smiled. When she saw me, the smile froze.
"Adrian, darling," she said. "What is this woman doing in my home?"
"She's the mother of my children, Mother. And you knew she was alive. You faked her death. You lied to me for two years."
Eleanor's face didn't change. She stepped aside and let us in. She poured herself a drink.
"Sit down, Adrian," she said. "Let's be reasonable."
"I don't want to be reasonable. I want the truth."
"The truth?" She laughed. It was a cold sound. "The truth is that girl was going to ruin you. A waitress. With no family. No money. No standing. You were going to marry her. You were going to throw away everything your father and I built. I couldn't let that happen."
"So you faked her death."
"I gave you a better life. Victoria comes from a good family. She would have been a good wife. You would have been happy."
"Happy?" Adrian's voice rose. "I grieved her, Mother. I buried an empty coffin. I thought the woman I loved was dead. And you — you and Victoria — you knew. You watched me suffer. And you called it love."
Eleanor's composure cracked for just a second. "I did what any mother would do."
"No," Adrian said. "You did what a controlling, cruel woman would do. And you're going to pay for it."
He turned his back on her. We walked to the door.
"Adrian," she called after him. "If you do this, you lose me. Your own mother."
He stopped. He didn't turn around.
"I lost you a long time ago, Mother," he said. "You just never noticed."
May you like
We walked out. The elevator doors closed. And in that small metal box, Adrian finally let himself cry.
I held him. And I knew — whatever happened next, we were in it together.
