Chapter 2: The Baby Who Never Died
Nobody spoke for nearly a minute.
The name hung in the air like smoke.
Renee Williams.
My mother's name.
Jordan slowly turned toward me.
"Aaliyah, did your mother ever tell you she adopted a child?""
I shook my head.
"No. She never mentioned anything like that.""
Denise grabbed the discharge record.
"That's enough! This document is meaningless!""
Michael pulled it away.
"Stop trying to hide what you did.""
"You don't know what happened!""
"Then tell us!""
Denise looked at me with tears gathering in her eyes.
"Your mother was a liar.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"Don't.""
"She took advantage of a frightened young woman and walked away with a child that wasn't hers.""
"Don't talk about my mother.""
"She stole my baby!""
The words echoed through the dining room.
Jordan looked at his mother.
"Your baby?""
Denise nodded.
"Yes.""
He rubbed his forehead.
"Then why does the birth certificate say Jordan?""
Denise's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Michael pulled the documents closer and studied them.
"Because there are two separate records," he said.
"One says Denise gave birth to a girl. The other says a baby boy was released to Renee Williams.""
Jordan looked confused.
"Two babies?""
Michael nodded.
"That's what it appears to be.""
I felt sick.
"Are you saying my mother took someone else's baby and raised her own?""
"No," Michael replied quickly.
"I'm saying we need to find out what happened.""
Denise shook her head.
"You don't need to find out anything. I know exactly what happened.""
She walked toward the fireplace and gripped the mantel.
"Renee was my best friend.""
That sentence made me stop breathing.
"Your friend?""
Denise nodded.
"We met when we were teenagers. We grew up in the same neighborhood. She was the only person who knew about my pregnancy.""
Michael looked stunned.
"You told me you barely knew her.""
"Because I didn't want you asking questions!""
Jordan stepped closer.
"Mom, why would Renee have my birth record?""
Denise looked at him.
"Because she helped me.""
"Helped you do what?""
"Have you.""
The room tilted.
Jordan stared at her.
"You're saying Renee helped you give birth to me?""
Denise nodded.
I felt a painful knot form in my throat.
My mother had raised me alone. She had worked two jobs, skipped vacations, and repaired my childhood shoes with glue because she couldn't afford new ones.
She had never told me about any of this.
Not once.
"Why didn't she tell me?"" I whispered.
Denise laughed bitterly.
"Because she knew what she had done.""
Michael turned sharply.
"Stop twisting this!""
"Then what do you want me to say? That I was seventeen? That I was terrified? That my parents threatened to throw me out if I brought a baby home?""
Her voice cracked.
"I had nothing. Renee had nothing. We were two scared girls.""
Jordan looked at her.
"What happened to the baby?""
Denise covered her face.
"I thought she was dead.""
Michael's expression changed.
"Thought?""
Denise lowered her hands.
"The nurse told me she didn't survive.""
"Then why did you tell us Renee stole her?""
"Because years later, I saw that pendant in a photograph.""
She pointed toward my necklace.
"Renee had it. The pendant I had worn since I was sixteen. The one I put around my daughter's neck before they took her away.""
I stared at the little silver object.
My mother had told me the pendant belonged to her grandmother.
Now I wasn't sure she had told me the truth about anything.
Michael picked up the letter again.
"Margaret said she saw the baby alive.""
Denise nodded slowly.
"Margaret was supposed to help us.""
"Help you with what?""
Denise sank into a chair.
"Renee and I had made a promise. If either of us ever had a child we couldn't raise, the other would help.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
She looked at me.
"Your mother wanted children. I wanted a different life. When I became pregnant, she offered to help me.""
"By taking the baby?""
"By giving her a home.""
Michael's face hardened.
"But we were married. I wanted that baby.""
Denise looked at him.
"You were twenty-two, Michael. Your father had threatened to disown you if you married a pregnant girl from the neighborhood.""
"That was thirty years ago!""
"I know!""
Her voice broke.
"I know exactly how long ago it was.""
Jordan slowly backed away.
"Wait. Are you telling me I was the baby you gave to Renee?""
Denise shook her head.
"No.""
"Then who was?""
She stared at him.
"Your sister.""
Silence.
I looked down at my pendant.
My fingers were shaking.
Jordan turned toward me.
"Then...""
I nodded before he finished.
"Apparently.""
For the first time since the argument began, Denise seemed to lose her anger completely.
She looked exhausted.
"Your mother took my daughter home. She promised she would love her. She promised I could see her someday.""
"Did you?"" I asked.
Denise shook her head.
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because I was ashamed.""
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked the question that had haunted me since I entered the house.
"Then why did you react like that when you saw me?""
Denise looked at my face.
"Because I recognized you.""
Her eyes filled.
"Not just the pendant. Your smile. The way you wrinkle your nose when you're confused. The little mark beneath your eyebrow.""
She reached toward me.
I stepped back.
Her hand fell.
"I knew the moment you walked through that door," she whispered.
Michael stood beside her.
"Then why didn't you say anything?""
"Because I couldn't.""
"Couldn't or wouldn't?""
She looked at him.
"Both.""
Jordan picked up the birth certificate.
"Mom, why does this document have my name on it?""
Denise stared at the paper.
Then she looked at Michael.
Neither answered.
I finally understood something.
There was another secret.
A bigger one.
And whatever had happened thirty years ago wasn't simply a frightened teenager giving her baby to a friend.
Someone had changed the records.
Someone had lied to two families.
And someone had spent three decades making sure the truth stayed buried.
Michael returned to the cabinet.
"There is one more thing," he said.
Denise jumped up.
"No.""
He pulled out a small leather folder.
"Your father left this with me before he died.""
Denise's face drained of color.
Michael opened it.
Inside was a photograph of two newborn babies lying in separate hospital bassinets.
On the back, someone had written two names.
*AALIYAH RENEE WILLIAMS.*
*JORDAN MICHAEL CARTER.*
Jordan stared at the photograph.
Then he looked at me.
"Why were our names written together?""
Michael turned the photograph over again.
May you like
There was another sentence beneath the names.
Only one child went home with the right family.
