Chapter 8
Claire flew in the next morning.
I expected anger.
Suspicion.
A woman hardened by a lifetime of being denied.
Instead, she walked into Lydia’s office holding a worn folder and looked at me like I might vanish if she blinked.
“You have his eyes,” she said.
I almost corrected her.
Then realized she meant Poppy.
Poppy hid behind my chair.
Claire knelt carefully.
“Hi. I’m Claire.”
Poppy whispered, “That’s my middle name.”
Claire smiled through tears.
“I heard.”
I watched the way she kept her hands visible.
The way she did not push.
The way she understood scared children.
I liked her immediately.
That made everything hurt more.
Claire’s folder held letters from Robert Bennett.
Her father.
Grant’s father.
He had written to her birth mother, Maria, promising to acknowledge Claire after leaving Margaret.
He never got the chance.
His boat sank.
Maria was pressured into giving Claire up.
Margaret inherited everything.
Detective Collins opened a formal investigation.
Margaret hired lawyers.
Serena refused to leave the hospital with her.
That was its own rebellion.
She called me that afternoon.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes.
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
I did not comfort her.
But I did not hang up.
She continued.
“Margaret told me Grant was leaving you. She said Poppy wasn’t his real daughter. She said the baby would finally give him a true family.”
My throat tightened.
“Grant lied too.”
“I know.”
A pause.
Then Serena said, “I don’t know who my baby’s father is because Margaret arranged the clinic.”
My blood went cold.
“What clinic?”
“Bennett Fertility and Women’s Health.”
The name hit me strangely.
Poppy’s adoption agency had worked with that clinic.
Lydia heard and went pale.
“That clinic closed after a consent scandal.”
Poppy looked up from her coloring.
“Mommy?”
May you like
I smiled too fast.
But my hands were shaking.
