Chapter 5
I couldn't take another secret.
I stood in the hospital room, staring at Detective Brooks.
"Just tell me."
She took a breath.
"Vanessa claims someone inside the Whitmore household arranged your disappearance."
My stomach dropped.
I turned toward Evelyn.
Her face had gone pale.
"Who?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't know."
I stared at her.
"Please don't lie to me."
Her eyes filled.
"I'm not."
Detective Brooks continued.
"Vanessa named a former household employee."
I swallowed.
"What's the name?"
"Margaret Ellis."
Evelyn closed her eyes.
"Oh, God."
I looked at her.
"You know her."
She nodded.
"Margaret was our housekeeper."
My heart pounded.
"Was she close to me?"
Evelyn's voice cracked.
"She helped care for you."
I felt sick.
Someone who had held me as a baby might have helped steal me.
"Where is she now?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I haven't seen her in more than twenty years."
Detective Brooks studied her notes.
"We're checking her last known addresses."
I sat down heavily.
Mrs. Carter wrapped an arm around me.
I didn't know how much more I could absorb.
My childhood had become a maze of names.
Harold.
Lorraine.
Patricia.
Margaret.
Vanessa.
And somewhere inside that maze was the truth.
The following morning, I was discharged from the hospital.
Evelyn offered to take me to her estate.
I refused.
I wasn't ready to sleep beneath the roof of a woman I'd met only hours earlier.
Instead, I went home with Mrs. Carter.
Her little house smelled like cinnamon and fresh coffee.
The same framed family photographs hung in the hallway.
The same worn couch sat beneath the window.
I felt safe the moment I walked inside.
Mrs. Carter made soup.
Then she insisted I rest.
But I couldn't sleep.
I sat at the kitchen table with the photograph of Lorraine and me.
I studied every detail.
The yellow dress.
The trees behind us.
The small white house in the background.
Then I noticed something.
A sign.
Partly hidden behind Lorraine's shoulder.
I leaned closer.
The letters were difficult to read.
But I recognized a word.
Haven.
I immediately called Detective Brooks.
She asked me to send a clear photograph.
An hour later, she called back.
"We identified the location."
My heart jumped.
"Where?"
"A former children's retreat called Willow Haven."
I frowned.
"Where is it?"
"North Georgia."
I stared at the photograph.
"Is it still operating?"
"No. It closed years ago."
I swallowed.
"What was it?"
"A private residential program for children and families."
My stomach twisted.
"Why would Lorraine take me there?"
"We're investigating."
I looked at Mrs. Carter.
She was listening from the doorway.
Detective Brooks continued.
"We also located an old employment record."
My heart pounded.
"For whom?"
"Patricia Lang."
I closed my eyes.
The social worker.
The adoption agency employee.
The woman who had placed me in foster care.
"What does the record say?"
"She worked at Willow Haven during the period you appear to have lived there."
I felt cold.
The pieces were connecting.
And I was terrified of what they would reveal.
Two days later, Detective Brooks arranged a meeting at the police station.
Evelyn attended with her attorney.
Mrs. Carter came with me.
I wanted both women there.
One had given birth to me.
The other had raised me.
I wasn't ready to choose between them.
And I refused to let anyone make me.
Detective Brooks entered carrying a folder.
"We located Margaret Ellis."
My heart stopped.
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Did she talk?"
The detective nodded.
"She agreed to an interview."
I could barely breathe.
"What did she say?"
Detective Brooks looked toward Evelyn.
"Margaret admits she helped remove Nia from the Whitmore residence."
Evelyn covered her mouth.
A sob escaped her.
I stared at the detective.
"She kidnapped me?"
"She says Harold instructed her to take you to Lorraine."
My stomach twisted.
"Why would she do that?"
"She claims Harold threatened her family."
I looked down.
Another person blaming fear.
Another person claiming they had no choice.
I wondered whether anyone had ever stopped to think about the little girl whose life they were destroying.
Detective Brooks continued.
"Margaret says she believed Lorraine would care for you temporarily."
I shook my head.
"Temporarily?"
"She claims she was told you would be returned after the estate dispute."
I almost laughed.
Thirty-two years.
That was their definition of temporary.
Evelyn began crying harder.
"I searched everywhere."
I looked at her.
For the first time, I understood how cruel it must have been.
Someone she trusted had carried her child out of her home.
And she'd spent decades looking for a stranger who was actually her daughter.
Detective Brooks opened another document.
"Margaret also told us something about Harold."
I leaned forward.
"What?"
"He wasn't acting alone."
My stomach tightened.
"Who helped him?"
The detective hesitated.
"According to Margaret, Lorraine was paid to keep you hidden."
I nodded.
We already suspected that.
"But Lorraine eventually wanted to return you."
I looked up sharply.
"What?"
Detective Brooks continued.
"Margaret says Lorraine became attached to you and began threatening to expose the scheme."
I stared at the photograph.
The smiling woman.
The little girl in yellow.
Last summer together.
My chest tightened.
"What happened to her?"
The detective looked serious.
"We're reviewing that."
I swallowed.
"And me?"
"Margaret says you were moved to Willow Haven."
I felt sick.
"By whom?"
"Patricia Lang."
My hands began shaking.
"Why?"
"Because Lorraine was no longer willing to cooperate."
I stared at the table.
Someone had moved me again.
Like an object.
Like a problem.
Like something that could be hidden in a different room.
Evelyn reached for my hand.
This time, I let her hold it.
Then Detective Brooks said something that changed everything.
"Margaret also identified the person who authorized the final placement."
I looked up.
"Who?"
The detective glanced at her notes.
"Harold's daughter."
I frowned.
"His daughter?"
Evelyn's face turned white.
I slowly looked at her.
"Who is Harold's daughter?"
May you like
She whispered the name.
"Vanessa."
