Chapter 7: The Grandfather Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Daniel refused to sit down.
He stood beside the desk, staring at the photograph as if the image might suddenly change.
“My father was in another state that week,” he said.
“He was attending a business conference in Chicago.””
Grandma Evelyn looked away.
“Mother,” Daniel demanded, “tell me he's not in that photograph.””
She said nothing.
“Tell me!””
Her voice came out as a whisper.
“Your father came to the hospital.””
Daniel gripped the back of the chair.
“You told me he died before Maya was born.””
“He did die before she was discharged.””
“That isn't what I asked!””
Grandma Evelyn closed her eyes.
“He came to see the baby. He wanted to make sure the arrangements had been completed.””
I stared at her.
“What arrangements?””
She rubbed her forehead.
“I don't know how to explain this.””
“Try.””
She looked at Richard.
Then at the photograph.
“Your grandfather believed the family name was more important than any individual. He had spent his life building Carter Industries. He thought scandals could destroy everything he had worked for.””
“Was Jonathan Reed a scandal?”” I asked.
“To him, yes.””
“Why?””
“Jonathan had discovered financial irregularities at one of Thomas Vale's companies. Your grandfather was an investor. He believed Jonathan intended to expose everyone involved.””
Richard's expression became serious.
“Was Daniel's father implicated in the investigation?””
Grandma Evelyn hesitated.
“I don't know exactly what he knew.””
“That isn't an answer.””
She lifted her chin.
“It's the only one I can give you.””
Daniel walked to the window.
“My father told me he was in Chicago,” he said quietly.
“He called me from his hotel. I remember because I was waiting for him to come home. He promised to take me fishing that Sunday.””
His voice faltered.
“He never came.””
Grandma Evelyn looked at him.
“He was already ill.””
“You told me his condition worsened while he was away.””
“It did.””
“Then how did he get to the hospital?””
She gripped the edge of the desk.
“He took a private flight.””
Daniel turned around.
“You helped him?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because he wanted to see the child before the records were finalized.””
I looked at the photograph.
Two babies.
Two identification numbers.
One man who had supposedly been thousands of miles away.
And a family that had spent seventeen years pretending none of it had happened.
“What did he do at the hospital?”” I asked.
Grandma Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
“He spoke to the doctor. He reviewed the records. Then he left.””
“Did he know about Jonathan?””
“Yes.””
“Did he know Jonathan was my father?””
She looked at the floor.
“He knew there was a possibility.””
“Everybody knew there was a possibility!””
My voice echoed through the study.
“Everybody except me!””
Nobody argued.
I picked up the photograph and turned it over.
Beneath the name Maya Reed, there was a faint handwritten notation.
*Transfer approved — Room 12.*
“What's Room 12?”” I asked.
Richard examined the image.
“It may refer to a hospital room or a ward number. We need the original records to establish that.””
“Then let's go to the hospital.””
Richard shook his head.
“Not without arranging access. The hospital has to verify the archive and authorize the release.””
“What if they refuse?””
“Then we determine what legal steps are available.””
I looked at the unsigned documents scattered across the desk.
“I am tired of waiting for permission to learn my own name.””
Daniel finally turned away from the window.
“Maya, I know you're angry.””
“Do you?””
“Yes.””
“Then tell me something honestly. When you ordered that DNA test, did you hope the result would say I wasn't yours?””
His face went pale.
“No.””
“Because you looked pretty happy when you threw me out.””
“I was angry about what I believed had happened.””
“You believed Mom had cheated on you.””
He said nothing.
“You didn't ask whether I was okay. You didn't ask whether I understood the report. You just decided I wasn't your daughter anymore.””
His eyes lowered.
“I shouldn't have said that.””
“You shouldn't have said a lot of things.””
“I know.””
For the first time, his apology sounded genuine.
It didn't erase what he had done.
But I heard it.
Mom stepped forward.
“Daniel, we need to stop treating Maya as if she's the problem. She's the only person here who didn't know anything.””
He nodded slowly.
Richard's phone rang.
He answered, listened, then asked the caller to repeat the information.
When he hung up, he looked at us.
“I've located a former employee of the hospital. She worked in the maternity unit in 2009.””
“Margaret Ellis?”” I asked.
“No. A records clerk named Patricia Shaw. She retired twelve years ago.””
“Does she remember the night I was born?””
“She remembers an incident involving two newborns and a missing file.””
My heart began pounding.
“Where is she?””
“She lives about forty minutes from here.””
“Then let's go.””
Richard glanced at the clock.
“We can arrange a meeting for tomorrow morning.””
“Why not now?””
“Because we need to make sure she's available and that we approach this properly.””
I wanted to argue.
Then my phone vibrated again.
Another message from the unknown number.
Patricia Shaw won't tell you the truth.
A second message appeared.
Ask her what happened to Baby 419.
I showed Richard.
He read the messages twice.
“This is becoming more concerning.””
“Whoever this is knows about the babies.””
“Yes.””
“And they know we're investigating.””
“Yes.””
“Then we can't wait until tomorrow.””
Richard considered that.
Finally, he nodded.
“I'll contact Patricia and ask whether she can meet us today. But we will not go anywhere alone, and we will not confront anyone without knowing what we're dealing with.””
Grandma Evelyn suddenly stood.
“You cannot involve Patricia.””
Richard turned.
“Why not?””
“Because she was the one who told me the records had been corrected.””
“Was she involved in the transfer?””
“I don't know.””
“You seem to know very little about a situation you claim to have controlled.””
Her face flushed.
“I was trying to prevent a disaster.””
“By relying on people who may have altered medical records?””
She didn't answer.
Daniel looked at his mother with a new kind of disbelief.
“You trusted the hospital?””
“I trusted the people I believed were protecting us.””
“And what if they weren't?””
Grandma Evelyn lowered her head.
That question appeared to frighten her more than anything else we had said.
We left the mansion shortly before sunset.
Mom rode with me in the back seat while Richard drove. Daniel followed in his own car, insisting that he wasn't ready to leave us alone.
For the first time in my life, I didn't argue with him about where I was going.
I didn't care about his rules anymore.
I cared about the two babies in the photograph.
And I cared about the man who had apparently spent his final years believing I was dead.
When we reached home, Mom made tea that nobody drank.
I sat at the kitchen island where the DNA report had first appeared.
The water stain had dried.
The marble looked ordinary again.
That somehow made everything worse.
“How did Jonathan die?”” I asked.
Mom sat opposite me.
“His car went off a bridge during a storm.””
“Was it an accident?””
“The police said it was.””
“Did you believe them?””
She looked at her hands.
“I tried to.””
“That's not what I asked.””
“No,” she whispered.
“I never fully believed it was an accident.””
I leaned forward.
“Why?””
“Because Jonathan called me three days before he died. He said he had found something that could prove what happened at the hospital.””
My heart raced.
“What?””
“He didn't tell me. He said he wanted to meet me in person.””
“Did you meet him?””
“No. The next morning, I heard about the accident.””
I stared at her.
“Did you tell Daniel?””
“No.””
“Did you tell the police?””
She shook her head.
“Why not?””
“Because the day after Jonathan died, someone left an envelope on our doorstep. It contained a photograph of you leaving school.””
My skin went cold.
“What?””
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
“There was a note. It said that if I continued asking questions about Jonathan's death, you would be next.””
I couldn't speak.
All those years, I had thought my mother was simply afraid of upsetting Daniel.
But someone had been watching me.
Someone had known where I went to school.
Someone had been willing to threaten a child to keep a secret buried.
I stood abruptly.
“Where is the photograph?””
Mom looked toward the hallway.
“I kept it.””
She went upstairs.
When she returned, she held a small envelope in both hands.
The paper was old and yellowed. My name had been written across the front in block letters.
Inside was a photograph of me at twelve years old, standing outside my school gates.
On the back was a message.
*THE WRONG CHILD SURVIVED.*
I stared at the words.
Then I looked at Mom.
“Who sent this?””
“I don't know.””
My phone rang.
The unknown number.
This time, I answered.
“Who are you?””
A man's voice came through the speaker.
“Maya, my name is Robert Shaw. I'm Patricia Shaw's son.””
“Why are you texting me?””
“Because my mother kept something from the hospital archive, and she believes someone has finally come looking for it.””
“What is it?””
“A photograph taken the night you were born.””
“I already have one.””
“No,” he said quietly.
“You have a copy.””
I gripped the phone.
“What does the original show?””
He hesitated.
Then he said, “It shows which baby left the hospital with your mother.””
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“Can I see it?””
“Yes. But you need to understand something first.””
“What?””
“The baby your family believed had died was still alive when my mother left her shift.””
I stopped breathing.
“Where was she?””
May you like
His answer came in a whisper.
“Room 12.””
