Chapter 6: The Brother I Never Knew I Had
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I stared at the birth registration form.
Margaret Carter.
Thomas Whitmore.
Patricia Whitmore.
Three names that had just torn apart everything I thought I knew about my family.
“Arthur,” I whispered.
“Tell me this is wrong.””
He didn't look away from the document.
“I can't.””
I pushed my chair backward.
“My grandmother had a child?””
“Yes.””
“And she gave him to Patricia?””
Arthur nodded.
“Your grandfather and his brother were business partners. Thomas was involved in a relationship with Margaret before she married your grandfather. When she became pregnant, the family made a decision that they believed would protect everyone.””
“Protect everyone?””
My voice rose.
“They gave away a baby and lied for twenty-seven years?””
Arthur lowered his head.
“Your grandfather regretted it.””
I looked at the document again.
“Who was the baby?””
Arthur hesitated.
Then he spoke.
“Daniel.””
Claire dropped her glass.
It shattered against the kitchen floor.
Sophie covered her mouth.
I felt as though someone had punched me in the chest.
Daniel.
My husband.
The man who had humiliated me in front of thirty guests.
The man who had stolen my inheritance.
The man who had spent five years building a company with my money.
He was my biological half-brother.
I stood up so quickly that my chair scraped across the floor.
“No.””
Arthur remained seated.
“Emily, your grandfather suspected it for years. He ordered the records preserved because he wanted you to know the truth eventually.””
“Eventually?””
I laughed, but the sound came out broken.
“Why didn't he tell me before he died?””
“Because he was trying to find proof that the birth records hadn't been altered.””
“Then why did he leave me the controlling trust?””
Arthur opened his briefcase.
“Because he knew Daniel might one day attempt to claim the company. He wanted to ensure that the person who inherited his estate would have the power to protect it.””
I shook my head.
“But Daniel didn't know?””
“I believe Patricia told him he was her biological son.””
Sophie leaned forward.
“Then why did my father have documents proving otherwise?””
Arthur turned toward her.
“Because Michael discovered the truth.””
She reached into her bag and removed another folded paper.
“My father wrote something about Daniel.””
Arthur opened it.
The handwriting was uneven.
Patricia told me she gave up her first child. But she also told me that Daniel was not the baby she raised. She said the real son was sent away, and the child she brought home belonged to Margaret.
I looked at the letter.
“Who was the real son?””
Arthur stared at the page.
“I don't know.””
Then he noticed something at the bottom.
A date.
And a hospital name.
St. Mary's Maternity Hospital.
The same hospital where my grandmother had died years later.
At 9:15 p.m., Arthur called an old colleague who had worked in hospital administration.
The hospital had since been renamed, but its archived birth records were still held by a regional records office.
We needed a formal request.
It would take time.
Too much time.
Because Daniel's board meeting was scheduled for Monday morning.
And tomorrow was Sunday.
I paced Claire's living room.
“If Daniel discovers that I know, he'll destroy everything.””
Arthur closed his folder.
“Not if we secure the trust first.””
“How long?””
“By tomorrow afternoon, I can obtain an emergency injunction if we submit sufficient evidence.””
“And the original birth records?””
“Possibly Monday.””
I looked at the clock.
Less than forty-eight hours.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I stared at the screen.
Claire shook her head.
“Don't answer.””
But I did.
“Hello?””
His voice was calm.
Almost gentle.
“Emily. We need to talk.””
“About what?””
“About coming home.””
I nearly laughed.
“You threw me out.””
“I was angry.””
“You humiliated me.””
“I apologized.””
“No, Daniel. You threatened me.””
He sighed.
“Listen. I know you've been talking to Arthur.””
My stomach tightened.
“How?””
“Because people talk. And I know he's filling your head with nonsense.””
I looked at Arthur.
He gestured for me to continue.
“Why are you so worried about Arthur?””
“Because he's an old man who has been obsessed with my family for years.””
I gripped the phone.
“Your family?””
Silence.
Then Daniel said something that made my skin crawl.
“Emily, there's a reason I married you.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What does that mean?””
He laughed softly.
“You always thought it was love, didn't you?””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Explain.””
“Come home. We'll talk privately.””
“No.””
His voice hardened.
“Then perhaps I should tell you what your grandfather did to your grandmother.””
The call ended.
I stood frozen.
Arthur looked up.
“What did he say?””
I repeated Daniel's words.
Arthur slowly closed his eyes.
“Your grandfather's past is the one thing I hoped you wouldn't have to face.””
“What did he do?””
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
Then he opened a small leather folder.
Inside was a photograph of my grandmother holding a newborn baby.
She was crying.
Beside her stood Thomas Whitmore.
On the back, someone had written:
The child Margaret chose to keep was never the child she gave birth to.
I stared at the photograph.
“What does that mean?””
Arthur's voice was barely audible.
“There were two babies born that night.””
At 10:40 p.m., Sophie fell asleep on Claire's sofa.
Arthur went into the spare room to make more calls.
I sat at the kitchen table with the photograph in front of me.
Two babies.
One registered as Daniel.
One registered as a child belonging to the Carter family.
I had spent my entire marriage believing Daniel and I were strangers who had fallen in love.
Now I couldn't even trust the family photographs on our walls.
Claire placed a cup of tea beside me.
“You don't have to solve everything tonight.””
I looked at her.
“What if Daniel knew?””
“About being adopted?””
“About us.””
Claire pulled out a chair.
“Emily, what are you thinking?””
I looked down at the photograph.
“Maybe he married me because of the inheritance.””
She reached across the table.
“Then we'll prove it.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number.
*You need to stop trusting Arthur. He knows what happened to the second baby.*
I sat upright.
Another message appeared.
*Ask him why he let Patricia take one child and leave the other behind.*
I looked toward the spare room.
Arthur was still talking on the phone.
I typed:
Who are you?
The answer arrived immediately.
*Someone who was there the night you were born.*
My heart began pounding.
I typed again.
What happened to the second baby?
The reply took almost a minute.
Then my screen lit up.
*The second baby was a girl.*
I stopped breathing.
A third message followed.
*And she is still alive.*
I stood.
“Claire?””
She looked up.
“What's wrong?””
I turned the phone toward her.
Her face went pale.
Then, from the hallway, Arthur's voice rang out.
“Emily, don't believe anything you receive tonight!””
I turned toward him.
He was standing in the doorway, holding his phone.
His expression was terrified.
“Why?”” I asked.
He looked at the message on my screen.
Then he whispered:
“Because the woman sending those messages is the same woman who stole your sister from the hospital.””
My mouth went dry.
“Who?””
Arthur swallowed.
May you like
Then he said a name I had never expected to hear.
“Patricia Whitmore.””
