Chapter 7: The Girl Who Remembered Everything
I didn't sleep that night.
At three in the morning, I was still staring at Olivia's photograph.
She looked so much like Emily that it hurt.
The same eyes.
The same stubborn expression.
Even the way she tilted her head reminded me of the woman I had loved.
But the young man beside her was what frightened me.
Richard's son, Andrew, was twenty-four. He had grown up attending family gatherings, birthday parties, and Christmas dinners.
I had watched him graduate.
I had helped him buy his first car.
I had never imagined that he might know something about the missing children.
At seven, Olivia sent another message.
*I know you saw the photograph. Please don't contact Andrew.*
I called her immediately.
She answered after several seconds.
“Hello?””
Her voice was trembling.
“Olivia?””
“Who is this?””
“It's Daniel.””
Silence.
Then a quiet breath.
“My father?””
I closed my eyes.
“Yes.””
She began crying.
I wanted to tell her everything.
That I had searched for her.
That I had never stopped loving her mother.
That I hadn't known she survived.
But I couldn't ask her to believe a stranger simply because he shared her blood.
“I know you have every reason to be angry,” I said.
“I know I can't give you eighteen years back.””
“Why didn't you come looking for me?””
The question cut straight through me.
“Because I was told you died.””
“Who told you?””
“Richard.””
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.””
“Olivia, I need to see you.””
“Why?””
“Because you're my daughter.””
“That didn't seem to matter when I was growing up.””
I swallowed.
“You're right.””
She was quiet.
Then she said, “I don't want money.””
“I know.””
“I don't want your company.””
“I don't expect you to.””
“And I don't want you to suddenly pretend we're a family because someone told you I'm useful.””
I looked toward Maya, who was sitting on the sofa listening.
“You're not useful to me, Olivia. You're my daughter. That's all.””
She didn't answer.
Finally, she gave me an address.
A small café near the university.
We arrived at ten.
Maya walked beside me.
She had spent the morning choosing what to wear, changing twice before settling on a blue sweater.
“Do you think she'll like me?”” she asked.
“I think she'll be nervous.””
“What if she doesn't want a sister?””
I looked at her.
“Then we'll give her time.””
The café was nearly empty.
Olivia sat by the window.
She wore a black jacket and had her hair tied back. Her fingers were wrapped around a cup of coffee she hadn't touched.
When she saw me, she stood.
For a moment, none of us moved.
Then she looked at Maya.
“Hi.””
Maya smiled nervously.
“I'm Maya.””
“I know.””
Olivia glanced at me.
“I've seen pictures.””
I frowned.
“What pictures?””
She opened her phone.
There were photographs of Maya from school events, family vacations, and birthday parties.
Some were taken from public social media accounts.
Others were clearly private.
“Where did you get these?””
Olivia looked down.
“Vanessa sent them.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why?””
“To show me what my life would have looked like if I'd been allowed to stay with you.””
I sat slowly.
“That was cruel.””
“She said it was necessary.””
Maya looked at her.
“Did she ever tell you why?””
Olivia nodded.
“She said my father had chosen another family. She said I was born at the wrong time.””
I felt sick.
“I never chose another family.””
“I know that now.””
Olivia placed her phone on the table.
“When I was sixteen, Margaret told me the truth. She said my biological mother died in an accident and my father believed I had died too.””
“Why didn't you contact me then?””
“I tried.””
She showed me an old email.
It was addressed to me.
The subject line read:
*I think I'm your daughter.*
The message had been sent six months after my mother's death.
I had never seen it.
Olivia explained that she had written it several times, but every response came from someone claiming to represent my family.
They told her I was grieving.
Then they told her I had moved abroad.
Finally, they told her I had requested no contact.
“Who sent those replies?”” I asked.
She looked at me.
“Vanessa.””
Maya lowered her eyes.
I reached across the table.
“I'm sorry.””
Olivia pulled her hands away.
“Please don't.””
I nodded.
She took a breath.
“There's something else. Andrew knows.””
“Knows what?””
“That I'm your daughter.””
I frowned.
“How?””
“Because he found out about the adoption years ago.””
“Why didn't he tell me?””
“Because Richard told him I was dangerous.””
“Dangerous?””
Olivia gave a humorless laugh.
“He said I had inherited a psychiatric condition from my mother. He told Andrew that if I ever contacted the family, I would try to destroy it.””
I felt my blood boil.
“Emily had no psychiatric condition.””
“I know.””
Olivia opened her bag and removed a small notebook.
“This belonged to my mother.””
I recognized it immediately.
Emily's notebook.
The one where she had written baby names when she was pregnant with Maya.
Olivia turned to a page.
There was a handwritten sentence.
If this baby is a girl, I want to call her Olivia. If it's a boy, Daniel gets to choose.
I couldn't stop the tears.
For the first time in five years, I could almost hear Emily's voice.
Olivia watched me carefully.
“Margaret gave it to me before she died.””
I held the notebook.
“Your mother would have loved you.””
Olivia looked away.
Then Maya moved her chair closer.
“Can I ask you something?””
Olivia nodded.
“Do you like chocolate cake?””
Olivia blinked.
“What?””
“Chocolate cake. It's my favorite. I was wondering if it could be yours too.””
A tiny smile appeared.
“Maybe.””
Maya grinned.
“Good. Because Dad makes terrible pancakes, and I think we need someone else in the family who knows how to cook.””
For the first time, Olivia laughed.
It was a small sound.
But it changed the room.
Then her expression became serious.
“There's a reason I asked you not to contact Andrew.””
I leaned forward.
“What happened?””
She took out another photograph.
It showed Richard speaking with Andrew outside a hospital.
Behind them stood Vanessa.
The date was three days before our son's birth.
“Andrew was working for Richard's company,” Olivia explained.
“He was helping arrange the transfer of a newborn.””
“Which newborn?””
“The baby your wife gave birth to.””
I stared at her.
“What does Andrew have to do with him?””
“He was listed as the emergency guardian.””
“Why?””
Olivia shook her head.
“I don't know. But I heard them talking about it.””
“What did they say?””
She took a breath.
“Richard said the baby was only temporary.””
My stomach tightened.
“Temporary?””
“He said the real heir was supposed to be someone else.””
I looked at Maya.
Then at Olivia.
“Who?””
Olivia reached into her bag and removed a second document.
It was a laboratory report.
The names had been partially blacked out, but one section remained visible.
*Biological Mother: Vanessa Hayes.*
*Biological Father: Andrew Hayes.*
I stared at the paper.
The café seemed to spin.
“No,” I whispered.
Olivia nodded.
“I think your wife had your nephew's child.””
Maya covered her mouth.
I couldn't speak.
My son wasn't merely the product of an affair.
If that report was genuine, he was also my brother's grandson.
Richard's plan suddenly made a terrible kind of sense.
He hadn't needed Vanessa to give birth to my child.
He needed her to give birth to his own descendant.
A child who could be presented as my direct heir.
A child who could keep Richard connected to the family trust.
I looked at Olivia.
“Why didn't you tell me this before?””
“Because I needed to be sure.””
She slid another page across the table.
It was an email from Andrew.
*If Daniel discovers the baby's parentage, Richard will destroy the original records. Don't let him get near the child.*
I picked up my phone.
I called Evelyn.
She answered immediately.
“Daniel?””
“Find Andrew. We need to protect the baby.””
“What's happened?””
I looked at the DNA report.
“Richard's son may be the father.””
Evelyn went silent.
Then she said something that made my stomach turn.
“Daniel, you need to come to the courthouse immediately.””
May you like
“Why?””
“Your brother has just presented a DNA report proving that the baby is yours.””
