Chapter 7
Detective Collins arrived within the hour.
She listened more than she spoke.
I liked that.
Margaret did not.
“This is harassment,” she said. “My daughter-in-law is grieving and unstable.”
Poppy stepped forward.
“My mommy is not unstable.”
Every adult in the room froze.
I knelt.
“Poppy.”
She looked at Margaret with wet eyes.
“I heard you say I wasn’t real. But Daddy said I was.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
“He was being kind.”
Poppy shook her head.
“He was being my dad.”
I held her close.
Detective Collins watched Margaret carefully.
Then turned to me.
“I need copies of everything.”
“You’ll have them,” Lydia said.
Serena suddenly grabbed the edge of the desk.
“I need a doctor.”
Her face had gone gray.
I forgot every reason I had to hate her.
She was pregnant.
Afraid.
And possibly lied to by everyone.
I called 911.
Margaret snapped, “She’s fine.”
Serena whispered, “No. I’m not.”
At the hospital, doctors stabilized her.
Stress.
Dehydration.
High blood pressure.
I sat in the waiting room with Poppy sleeping against me.
Lydia stayed beside us.
Detective Collins returned near midnight.
“We found Claire Bennett.”
My heart jumped.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Margaret’s lie cracked.
“Where?”
“Portland. Different last name. Claire Mason. She was adopted after Robert Bennett’s boat accident.”
Robert.
Grant’s father.
Detective Collins continued.
“She has been trying to access sealed records for years.”
I looked at Poppy.
“What does that mean for us?”
“It means Margaret has been hiding more than money.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman’s voice trembled.
“Is this Audrey?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“My name is Claire. I think Grant was my brother.”
