Chapter 3
I had spent eight years believing Rachel Carter wanted nothing to do with me.
Now I was sitting in a hospital waiting room, wondering whether she'd tried to tell me I was going to become a father.
I stared at my phone.
Rebecca was still speaking.
"Marcus, are you there?"
I swallowed.
"Yeah."
She took a breath.
"I didn't know about Rachel."
My chest tightened.
"Neither did I."
My sister hesitated.
"Do you think Maya is yours?"
I closed my eyes.
"I don't know."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then I asked, "Where exactly did you find the photograph?"
Rebecca explained that she'd been looking for Lily's overnight bag.
The police had already secured the kitchen area.
Vanessa had been taken to the station for questioning.
Rebecca was gathering clothes for Lily when she discovered the photograph inside an open drawer.
I told her not to search further.
"Leave everything as it is."
She agreed.
Then I asked her to tell the investigating officer about the photograph.
I didn't want evidence mishandled.
This wasn't a family argument anymore.
It involved a child who had been hidden inside a dangerous compartment.
I needed the truth established properly.
After ending the call, I leaned forward and covered my face.
I remembered Rachel.
Her laugh.
Her dark curls.
The way she used to trace the crescent tattoo on my neck.
She always asked why I'd chosen the moon.
I told her about my grandmother.
How she'd called me her little moon because I was born during a thunderstorm.
Rachel smiled and said she'd remember that story forever.
Then, one night, everything changed.
We argued about my work.
I was traveling constantly.
Rachel said she wanted stability.
I accused her of not understanding my career.
The argument ended badly.
The following morning, I called.
No answer.
I texted.
Nothing.
Several days later, I received a message saying she didn't want to see me again.
I believed it.
I was hurt.
Angry.
Too proud to keep trying.
I moved on.
And eventually met Vanessa.
But what if Rachel never sent that message?
What if someone else had controlled our communication?
My stomach twisted.
Then a doctor approached.
"Mr. Bennett?"
I stood immediately.
"How is Maya?"
The doctor smiled gently.
"She's stable."
Relief washed through me.
"Thank God."
He explained that Maya was dehydrated and needed nutritional support.
She also showed signs of stress.
But there were no injuries requiring emergency surgical treatment.
I closed my eyes.
"Can I see her?"
"Yes."
Then he became serious.
"Child protective services and law enforcement will need to determine her circumstances."
I nodded.
"I understand."
He continued.
"Do you know her relationship to you?"
I swallowed.
"Possibly my daughter."
The doctor nodded slowly.
"Then legal parentage will need to be established."
I looked down.
"I know."
When I entered Maya's room, she was sitting upright in bed.
A nurse had given her clean clothes.
Her thick curls had been gently brushed.
She held a small cup of water.
When she saw me, her expression changed.
"Marcus?"
I smiled.
"Hey, sweetheart."
She looked relieved.
"You came back."
My heart broke.
I walked closer.
"I said I would."
She nodded.
Then looked toward the doorway.
"Is Vanessa here?"
I shook my head.
"No."
Her shoulders relaxed.
I sat beside the bed.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then I asked, "Maya, can I ask you something?"
She nodded.
"Okay."
"What's your mother's name?"
She stared at her blanket.
For several seconds, she didn't answer.
Then whispered, "Rachel."
My heart stopped.
I swallowed.
"Rachel Carter?"
Maya looked up quickly.
Her eyes widened.
"You know her?"
Tears filled my eyes.
"Yes."
Her expression changed.
"Really?"
I nodded slowly.
"I knew her a long time ago."
Maya began crying.
"She told me about you."
My chest tightened.
"What did she say?"
Maya touched her own neck.
"She said you had a little moon."
I closed my eyes.
Then she continued.
"And that you smiled when you talked about your grandma."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
I could barely breathe.
"Maya..."
She looked frightened.
"Did I say something wrong?"
I shook my head immediately.
"No."
I took her hand gently.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
She nodded.
Then whispered, "Mom said you were a good man."
My chest tightened.
For years, I'd believed Rachel hated me.
Now her daughter was telling me she'd spoken kindly about me.
I swallowed.
"Where is your mother?"
Maya looked down.
Her expression changed.
"At the hospital."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
She nodded.
"She got sick."
I leaned forward.
"What hospital?"
Maya shook her head.
"I don't know the name."
I felt cold.
She continued.
"Vanessa said she was helping."
My stomach tightened.
"Helping who?"
"Mom."
I stared.
Maya explained that Rachel had been hospitalized after becoming seriously ill.
She said Vanessa appeared at the hospital and introduced herself as someone who knew Marcus.
Rachel was weak.
Maya was frightened.
Vanessa offered to take Maya somewhere safe while Rachel recovered.
My chest tightened.
"Did your mother agree?"
Maya hesitated.
"I think so."
I nodded slowly.
Then asked, "What happened when you came to our house?"
Maya began shaking.
I immediately softened my voice.
"You don't have to tell me everything right now."
She looked relieved.
But then she whispered, "Vanessa said I couldn't meet you."
My heart broke.
"Why?"
Maya's eyes filled with tears.
"She said you'd be angry."
I stared at her.
She continued.
"She said you already had a real daughter."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Maya began crying harder.
"And that I would ruin your family."
I felt anger surge through me.
I closed my eyes.
Then took a breath.
"Maya, listen carefully."
She looked up.
"You are not ruining anything."
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"And nobody gets to decide whether you matter."
She nodded weakly.
I swallowed.
"I don't know everything yet."
She stared at me.
"But I'm going to find out."
Then I asked, "Do you remember anything else about your mother's hospital?"
Maya thought carefully.
Then whispered, "There was a big blue sign."
I nodded.
"Okay."
She continued.
"And a lady named Nurse Kelly."
My heart jumped.
That was something investigators could use.
I immediately contacted the officer assigned to Maya's case and shared the details.
Then I called Olivia Grant, my family attorney.
I explained what happened.
She advised me not to make assumptions about parentage and to cooperate with the appropriate child welfare procedures.
I agreed.
I wanted Maya safe.
That mattered more than my need for immediate answers.
That evening, Detective Aaron Brooks arrived at the hospital.
He was a Black man in his late forties with a calm voice.
He asked to speak with me.
We stepped into the hallway.
"Mr. Bennett, we've made progress locating Rachel Carter."
My heart stopped.
"Where is she?"
He took a breath.
"She's currently a patient at a hospital in Decatur."
Relief washed through me.
"Is she alive?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
I covered my mouth.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then the detective continued.
"She's been asking about her daughter."
My chest tightened.
"Does she know Maya is safe?"
"We've notified the hospital and are coordinating with the appropriate professionals."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
Then he said something that made my stomach twist.
"Mr. Bennett, there's another issue."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Vanessa claims Rachel voluntarily surrendered Maya into her care."
I frowned.
"Did she?"
"We're investigating."
I swallowed.
Then he continued.
"But Rachel's hospital records show that someone contacted her pretending to be you."
My blood ran cold.
"What?"
The detective looked serious.
"The caller told her you didn't want contact with Maya."
I stared at the wall.
For a moment, I couldn't move.
Then I whispered, "Who made the call?"
He hesitated.
"That's what we're trying to establish."
I closed my eyes.
May you like
Because suddenly, the eight years of silence between Rachel and me seemed less like a misunderstanding.
And more like something someone had carefully arranged.
