Chapter 9 - The Woman Who Raised Daniel
For three seconds after the gunshot, nobody moved.
Then Judith Crane screamed downstairs.
“Richard!”
I was still on the bedroom floor with Mom pressed against one side of me and Evelyn on the other.
Martin had fallen near the doorway.
At first I thought he'd been shot.
Then he moved.
“Martin?”
“I'm fine.”
He pushed himself onto one elbow.
“The bullet missed me.”
Another voice came from downstairs.
Richard.
Calm.
Too calm.
“Bring down the ledger.”
Evelyn clutched the old book against her chest.
“No.”
Richard laughed.
“You've inherited Rebecca's stubbornness.”
“You don't get to talk about her.”
“I knew your mother better than anyone.”
“You abused your power over her.”
Silence.
Mom looked at Evelyn.
She hadn't known that part.
Richard finally said, “You don't know what happened between Rebecca and me.”
“I know enough.”
“No. You know what Martin told you.”
Martin stood slowly.
“And for once, I told her the truth.”
Richard's voice hardened.
“Did you?”
That question made Martin stop.
Richard continued.
“Did you tell Evelyn why Rebecca disappeared in 1986?”
Evelyn looked at him.
Martin didn't answer.
“Martin?”
“We need to get out of here.”
“That's not an answer.”
Richard laughed again.
“He's very good at those.”
Judith suddenly shouted from downstairs.
“Stop manipulating them!”
A crash followed.
Then Richard swore.
Footsteps.
Running.
Martin moved toward the staircase.
I grabbed him.
“Wait.”
Another crash.
Then the front door slammed.
Silence.
“Judith?” I called.
No answer.
Martin descended first.
Evelyn followed.
I told Mom to stay upstairs.
She ignored me.
Of course she did.
We found Judith near the front door.
Blood ran down the side of her face.
A broken lamp lay beside her.
But she was conscious.
“Where's Richard?”
“Gone.”
“Was he shot?”
“No.”
“Who fired?”
“He did.”
“At us?”
“The first shot.”
“And the second?”
Judith touched her forehead.
“I knocked his arm aside.”
Martin checked the doorway.
The black Mercedes was gone.
“Wonderful.”
Judith looked at Evelyn.
“You have the ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Don't give it to him.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
Judith tried to stand.
I helped her.
Up close, she looked older than in the photograph.
Late sixties, perhaps.
Tired.
But the eyes were alert.
“Why did you approach Emma?”
She looked ashamed.
“I needed to get Margaret's necklace to you.”
“You could have handed it to me.”
“I couldn't risk Martin seeing me.”
“He saw you eventually.”
“That wasn't the plan.”
“I'm becoming very tired of people's plans.”
“I imagine you are.”
At least she didn't argue.
Mom came downstairs.
The moment Judith saw her, something passed between them.
Recognition.
Old pain.
“Margaret.”
“Judith.”
“You knew each other,” I said.
Mom nodded.
“Since 1986.”
“Of course.”
I almost laughed.
“Is there anyone in this story you didn't secretly know?”
Mom looked down.
Judith sat on the bottom stair.
“We should leave.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
“We leave after someone tells me what is true.”
“Hannah—”
“No.”
I pointed toward the ledger.
“Evelyn's twin was Elizabeth.”
“Yes,” Judith said.
“Elizabeth was Thomas Mercer's biological daughter.”
“Yes.”
“She was renamed Catherine.”
Judith nodded.
“Catherine Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel's mother.”
“Yes.”
I forced myself to continue.
“Then Rachel married her biological niece's son.”
“Half niece,” Martin corrected quietly.
I stared at him.
“Do you really think that improves it?”
“No.”
Daniel was Dad's grandson through Catherine.
Rachel was Dad's daughter.
Rachel was therefore Catherine's half sister.
Daniel was Rachel's half-nephew.
My sister had married her nephew.
My stomach twisted.
“Does Catherine know?”
Judith looked at Martin.
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Then we tell her.”
“No,” Judith said immediately.
I stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You cannot call Catherine and tell her something this complicated without proof.”
“We have the ledger.”
“The ledger proves a baby named Elizabeth existed.”
“And Richard admitted Thomas was her father.”
“Richard lies.”
“So does everyone else.”
Judith couldn't argue with that.
Evelyn opened the ledger.
“Then show me proof.”
Judith looked at her.
“Of what?”
“That Catherine is Elizabeth.”
“There is DNA.”
Martin turned sharply.
“What DNA?”
“Rebecca kept samples.”
“What kind?”
“Hair.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“My mother's?”
“And the twins'.”
“Where?”
Judith looked toward Mom.
“The box.”
Dad's box.
Of course.
“What else is inside that thing?” I asked.
Judith answered:
“Enough to destroy several people.”
“Then we're opening it.”
“It says Hannah and Rachel must open it together.”
“I know.”
Mom whispered, “Thomas insisted.”
“Why us?”
Nobody answered.
I stared at her.
“Mom.”
She looked at me.
“Because he considered you both his daughters.”
That hurt more than I expected.
Not biologically.
But his daughters.
Rachel and me.
Maybe that was enough.
Maybe family had never been as simple as Graybridge's records tried to make it.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
“Hannah?”
“Where are you?”
“At the police station.”
“Rachel?”
“Here.”
“Emma?”
“Beside her.”
Relief.
“Good.”
Daniel continued.
“My mother is coming.”
Catherine.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Why?”
“I called my parents.”
Of course he had.
His entire identity had just collapsed.
He had done what anyone would do.
He called his mother.
“Daniel, listen to me.”
“What?”
“Don't tell Catherine anything yet.”
Silence.
“You found something.”
“Yes.”
“About me?”
“About her.”
Rachel spoke in the background.
“What?”
I closed my eyes.
There was no gentle way to do this.
But Judith was right about one thing.
We needed proof.
“Just wait until we get there.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps telling me to wait.”
“I know.”
“Is she my mother?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Whatever Catherine's origins were, she had raised Daniel.
Loved him.
She was his mother.
“Is she biologically my mother?”
“I think so.”
“Then what's the problem?”
I looked at Evelyn.
She understood.
“Daniel, don't ask her about Graybridge until I arrive.”
Silence.
Then:
“Oh God.”
He was smart.
He had already begun putting it together.
“She's connected to Graybridge.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Wait for me.”
“Hannah.”
“Please.”
That finally stopped him.
“Okay.”
We ended the call.
Judith stood.
“We need to move quickly.”
“Why?”
“Richard will contact Catherine.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he wants the ledger.”
“What does Catherine have to do with it?”
Judith looked at her.
“He spent years looking for Elizabeth.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed she was his daughter.”
“But you said Thomas was her father.”
“Richard didn't know.”
Evelyn went still.
“Then why did he say downstairs that Thomas was Elizabeth's father?”
“Because he discovered the truth recently.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
There it was again.
Three weeks.
Everything had started moving three weeks ago.
Rachel's loan crisis.
Martin contacting Evelyn.
Claire's investigation.
Richard discovering the truth.
“What happened three weeks ago?” I asked.
Judith looked at Mom.
Mom closed her eyes.
“I opened Thomas's box.”
The room went silent.
“You what?”
“I opened it.”
“You said you didn't have the key.”
“I didn't.”
“Then how?”
“The lock had already been broken.”
Martin stepped toward her.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“What made you go there?”
“I received a letter.”
“From whom?”
“I don't know.”
“What did it say?”
Mom looked at me.
“That Hannah wasn't my daughter.”
I stared.
“And you believed an anonymous letter?”
“No.”
“So you went to the box.”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
“I didn't look at everything.”
Rachel would have laughed if she'd been there.
Mom and her selective curiosity.
“I found the DNA report.”
“The one from 1998?”
“Yes.”
“You learned I wasn't biologically yours.”
Mom's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it changed nothing.”
For once, I had no answer.
She continued.
“You were my daughter before I saw that report. You were my daughter afterward.”
My anger remained.
But so did something else.
Love.
Complicated.
Damaged.
Real.
“What else did you find?”
“A photograph of Rebecca.”
“The one you gave Richard?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the anonymous letter included a phone number. I called it. Richard answered.”
Martin swore.
“You contacted him?”
“I didn't know who he was.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That Rebecca might still be alive.”
Evelyn's face changed.
“Is she?”
Mom looked at her.
“I don't know.”
“What did Richard want?”
“The photograph.”
“Why?”
“He said there was something written beneath the backing.”
Martin frowned.
“What backing?”
“The photograph had been mounted on cardboard.”
“Did you remove it?”
“No.”
“Then Richard did.”
Mom nodded.
“He sent me a picture afterward.”
“Of what?”
“An address.”
“Where?”
She looked at Judith.
Judith went pale.
“No.”
“What?” I asked.
Mom whispered:
“Vermont.”
Evelyn grabbed her arm.
“Where in Vermont?”
“Near Brattleboro.”
Judith closed her eyes.
“You knew,” Evelyn said.
Judith shook her head.
“I suspected.”
“Rebecca is alive?”
“I don't know.”
“You keep saying that!”
Evelyn's voice cracked.
“My mother supposedly died when I was a baby. Now you're telling me she may have been alive this entire time.”
Judith took her hand.
Evelyn pulled away.
“I helped Rebecca disappear.”
Silence.
Evelyn stared at her.
“When?”
“1986.”
“The year Hannah appeared.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard found her.”
“What happened?”
Judith sat again.
“She had spent years hiding.”
“From him?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Different places.”
“Why did she come back?”
Judith looked at me.
“To find Hannah.”
My heart pounded.
“Why me?”
“Because you were her daughter.”
The answer was direct.
No qualification.
“Biologically?”
“Yes.”
“Who was my father?”
Judith didn't answer.
“Who?”
“I promised Rebecca.”
I laughed.
“You people and your promises.”
“Hannah—”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“My biological mother may be alive. My father spent years investigating my identity. My daughter was dragged into this. My mother was taken here. Someone fired a gun through that window.”
I pointed upstairs.
“Promises are finished.”
Judith looked at Mom.
Mom shook her head.
She knew too.
“Tell me.”
Judith whispered:
“Your biological father wasn't Thomas.”
“I know.”
“Or Richard.”
“Then who?”
“He was someone Rebecca met after she left Graybridge.”
“Name.”
“David Crane.”
I stared at her.
“Crane.”
Judith nodded.
“My brother.”
The room went quiet.
“You're my aunt?”
“Biologically, yes.”
I looked at her face.
Maybe there was something there.
Maybe I was imagining it.
“What happened to him?”
“He died in 1986.”
“When?”
“November 9.”
One day after my recorded birthday.
Two days before Dad brought me home.
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Was it an accident?”
Judith looked away.
I already had my answer.
“Richard?”
“We never proved it.”
“But you believed it.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to me?”
“Rebecca brought you to St. Matthew's.”
“Why?”
“You were sick. Fever. Difficulty breathing.”
“And?”
“Richard found out.”
My hands went cold.
“Rebecca panicked. She believed he would use you to force her out of hiding.”
“So she left me?”
“No.”
Judith's eyes filled.
“She asked me to hide you in the nursery until David could come.”
“But David died.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
“Eleanor arrived.”
Of course she did.
“She took me?”
“I thought Rebecca sent her.”
“She hadn't?”
“No.”
“Where did Grandma take me?”
“I didn't know until years later.”
“To Mom and Dad.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Margaret.
“You knew none of this?”
“Nothing.”
Judith continued.
“Rebecca returned to the hospital the next morning.”
“To get me.”
“Yes.”
“But I was gone.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell her Eleanor had me?”
“I didn't know where Eleanor took you.”
“Did Rebecca believe I was kidnapped?”
“Yes.”
“And she searched for me.”
“For years.”
Something inside me broke quietly.
My biological mother hadn't abandoned me.
She had come back.
“What stopped her?”
“Thomas found her in 1998.”
The year of the DNA tests.
I closed my eyes.
Dad had found Rebecca.
“What happened?”
“He told her you were safe.”
“Did she see me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Judith looked at Mom.
“Thomas believed taking you away from Margaret would destroy her.”
I almost laughed.
“So he kept me from my biological mother to protect my adoptive mother.”
“Yes.”
Another person protected by another lie.
“Did Rebecca accept that?”
“No.”
“What did she do?”
“She threatened to tell you when you turned eighteen.”
2004.
The year Dad died.
I opened my eyes.
“My eighteenth birthday was three weeks after Dad died.”
“Yes.”
“And Rebecca?”
“Disappeared again.”
“When?”
“The day after Thomas died.”
Martin stared at Judith.
“You never told me that.”
“I didn't trust you.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don't know.”
Mom whispered, “Vermont.”
Everyone looked at her.
“The address Richard found.”
Evelyn was already moving.
“We're going.”
Martin blocked her.
“No.”
“Move.”
“Richard has the same address.”
“Exactly.”
“He may already be there.”
“So may my mother.”
“And that is precisely why you don't run into another trap.”
Evelyn's hands curled into fists.
I understood her.
Forty-six years.
If someone told me Mom was alive after forty-six years, no argument would stop me either.
My phone rang again.
Daniel.
I answered.
“Hannah.”
Something in his voice frightened me.
“What happened?”
“My mother arrived.”
Catherine.
“Okay.”
“She isn't alone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who is with her?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“An older man.”
Richard.
I looked at Martin.
“Get Catherine away from him.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because she says he's her father.”
Evelyn went white.
Richard had spent decades believing Elizabeth was his.
Maybe Catherine believed it too.
Daniel continued.
“They're coming inside.”
“Do not give him anything.”
“I don't have anything.”
“He may think you do.”
Rachel's voice suddenly came through.
“Hannah, Catherine has something.”
“What?”
“A package.”
“What kind?”
“Old. Wrapped in brown paper.”
Martin whispered, “The box.”
“No. We have Dad's box at Graybridge.”
Mom suddenly covered her mouth.
“What?”
She stared at me.
“There were two.”
Martin turned toward her.
“What did you say?”
“Thomas left two boxes.”
“You never told me.”
“I didn't know until three weeks ago.”
“What was the second one?”
“I don't know.”
“Where was it?”
“With Catherine.”
My pulse raced.
“Why?”
“Thomas mailed it to her before he died.”
Daniel was still listening.
“My father mailed my mother a box?”
“Yes.”
Catherine's voice appeared faintly in the background.
“Daniel?”
He answered, “Mom, wait.”
Richard spoke next.
Even through the phone, I recognized the voice from downstairs.
“Daniel.”
“Who are you?”
“Someone who can explain why your family has lied to you.”
“Stay away from my mother.”
Richard laughed softly.
“Which one?”
Daniel went silent.
I shouted into the phone.
“Daniel, leave.”
Then Catherine spoke.
Not to Daniel.
To Richard.
“You promised you wouldn't involve him.”
“I promised many things.”
“You said you only wanted the box.”
“I do.”
“Then take it.”
Martin shouted, “NO!”
Too late.
I heard paper tearing.
Daniel said, “Mom, what are you doing?”
Catherine answered:
“Ending this.”
Then silence.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
“Daniel?”
No answer.
“Daniel!”
Finally he returned.
His breathing sounded wrong.
“Hannah.”
“What?”
“There are documents.”
“What documents?”
“Letters.”
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
“And something else.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
My stomach tightened.
“Of who?”
“My mother.”
Catherine.
“And Thomas.”
Dad.
“When?”
“1985.”
Before Daniel's birth.
Before Grace's death.
Before I appeared.
“What are they doing?”
Daniel didn't answer.
Rachel said his name.
He finally spoke.
“They're kissing.”
The room around me disappeared.
Mom stared at the phone.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“There are dates on the back. They were together for months.”
Mom sank into a chair.
Dad and Catherine.
His own biological daughter.
Except—
Did he know?
Martin whispered, “No.”
“What?”
“He couldn't have known Catherine was Elizabeth then.”
Evelyn looked horrified.
Daniel said, “There's a letter.”
“Read it.”
His voice shook as he began.
“Catherine, what happened between us cannot happen again. Margaret knows nothing. Neither does Eleanor. I thought I understood who you were, but Martin's records have made me afraid that—”
Daniel stopped.
“What?”
“The rest is missing.”
Richard laughed in the background.
“I have the rest.”
Catherine said, “Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Richard.”
“You've waited forty years. Let the boy hear it.”
“Don't.”
Richard began reading.
“—afraid that Rebecca's missing child and Eleanor's secret adoption may be the same person.”
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Dad had suspected Catherine might be Rebecca's daughter.
Before Daniel was born.
Richard continued.
“If I am right, then what happened between us was a mistake neither of us understood.”
Daniel whispered, “No.”
Richard kept reading.
“But if I am wrong, there is something else you need to know.”
Silence.
“What?” I shouted.
Richard read the final sentence.
“Margaret is pregnant, and the timing means there is a possibility the child she carries is not mine.”
Mom stood so quickly the chair fell.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
She was shaking violently.
“No.”
I grabbed her.
“Mom?”
“That letter is false.”
Richard heard.
“Hello, Margaret.”
“It's false!”
He laughed.
“Then tell them.”
“Tell us what?” I asked.
Mom stared at me.
Tears ran down her face.
“Grace wasn't Thomas's child.”
Silence.
Martin whispered her name.
She continued.
“I made one mistake.”
“With who?”
She couldn't answer.
“Mom.”