Chapter 6
I stared at Evelyn.
"Vanessa is Harold's daughter?"
She nodded slowly.
I looked toward Detective Brooks.
"Then why did she say Lorraine was her mother?"
The detective opened another document.
"Because Lorraine raised her for several years, but Harold was her biological father."
I felt sick.
Another hidden relationship.
Another family built on secrets.
Evelyn explained that Harold had a relationship with Lorraine before marrying another woman.
Vanessa was born outside his marriage.
For years, Harold kept her existence private.
When she became an adult, he began supporting her financially.
Eventually, he brought her into Whitmore Holdings through one of his companies.
I stared at Evelyn.
"And you never knew?"
"I knew Harold had a daughter later in life."
Her voice trembled.
"But I didn't know Vanessa was that daughter until recently."
My stomach tightened.
"So Vanessa is my cousin?"
Evelyn nodded.
"Through your father's family."
I looked down.
The woman who had tried to kill me wasn't just someone I'd met through work.
She was family.
And she'd known more about my childhood than I ever imagined.
Detective Brooks continued.
"Vanessa was too young to arrange your original abduction. But records indicate she became involved in the concealment years later."
I frowned.
"How old was she?"
"Approximately six when you disappeared."
I stared at the detective.
"Then she couldn't have ordered anything."
"Not originally."
She nodded.
"That's an important distinction."
My chest tightened.
"But when I was moved into foster care?"
"She was a teenager. Margaret claims Vanessa relayed instructions from Harold and later helped suppress inquiries."
I covered my face.
The timeline made sense.
But the cruelty didn't.
Vanessa had grown up knowing I existed.
She knew where I was.
And when we finally met as adults, she tried to erase me.
I looked toward Evelyn.
"Why did she hate me?"
Evelyn's expression darkened.
"Because Harold raised her to believe your inheritance belonged to him."
I shook my head.
"But I never asked for money."
Evelyn touched my hand.
"That didn't matter to them."
I stared at the floor.
For thirty-two years, I'd been poor.
I'd worked two jobs.
I'd slept on friends' couches when rent was overdue.
And somewhere, people had been fighting over an inheritance I didn't even know existed.
I felt angry.
But more than that, I felt exhausted.
"Can I go home?" I whispered.
Mrs. Carter immediately stood.
"Of course, baby."
Evelyn looked disappointed.
But she didn't argue.
Before we left, Detective Brooks asked me to sign a few additional statements.
She explained that Vanessa remained under investigation for attempted murder and other possible offenses.
The financial and identity-related matters would require separate investigations.
I nodded.
I didn't care how long it took.
I wanted the truth established.
And I wanted Vanessa kept away from me.
That evening, Mrs. Carter made my favorite dinner.
Fried chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
I barely ate.
She sat beside me.
"Nia, you don't have to solve everything tonight."
I looked at her.
"How am I supposed to know who I am?"
She smiled sadly.
"You're still the girl who brought home injured birds and begged me to help them."
I almost laughed.
"Mrs. Carter..."
"You're still the woman who worked through college and bought me that ridiculous electric blanket."
I smiled.
"You love that blanket."
"I do."
She took my hand.
"And you're still my daughter in every way that matters."
Tears filled my eyes.
"Even if Evelyn is my mother?"
"Especially then."
I hugged her.
For the first time since the lake, I felt something steady beneath me.
My past had changed.
But the love I'd received hadn't disappeared.
A week later, independent DNA testing confirmed that Evelyn was my biological mother.
I stared at the results for a long time.
Then I called her.
She answered immediately.
"Nia?"
I swallowed.
"It's confirmed."
Silence.
Then I heard her crying.
"Oh, sweetheart."
I closed my eyes.
She continued.
"I've waited thirty-two years to hear your voice."
I started crying too.
"I don't know how to do this."
Her voice softened.
"Neither do I."
I laughed through my tears.
She did too.
Then she said something that made me feel safe.
"We don't have to become a family overnight."
I closed my eyes.
"Thank you."
"We can start wherever you feel comfortable."
I smiled.
"Maybe coffee?"
She laughed softly.
"I would love that."
The next morning, we met at a small café.
No security officers inside.
No expensive restaurant.
No dramatic announcement.
Just two women sitting across from each other.
Evelyn wore a simple blue blouse.
Without her black power suit, she looked less intimidating.
More human.
She placed a small box on the table.
I stared at it.
"What's that?"
"A gift."
I hesitated.
"Evelyn..."
She smiled.
"Not an expensive one."
I opened it.
Inside was a faded yellow baby blanket.
My breath caught.
"I kept it," she whispered.
Tears filled her eyes.
"It was yours."
I touched the fabric.
For the first time, I held something from the life I'd lost.
Evelyn began crying.
"I used to sleep with it beside me."
I covered my mouth.
She reached across the table.
"Can I ask you something?"
I nodded.
"Would it be all right if I called you my daughter?"
My eyes filled.
I thought about Mrs. Carter.
About the years I'd spent believing I was unwanted.
Then I looked at Evelyn.
"Yes."
She began crying harder.
I squeezed her hand.
"But Mrs. Carter is my mother too."
Evelyn nodded immediately.
"Of course."
I smiled through tears.
"Then maybe we can figure out what that means together."
She laughed softly.
"I'd like that."
For several weeks, we did exactly that.
Coffee.
Lunch.
Walks through the park.
Long conversations about my childhood.
Evelyn showed me photographs of my father.
She told me how he laughed.
How he loved music.
How he cried when I was born.
I began feeling something unfamiliar.
Belonging.
Then one afternoon, Detective Brooks called.
Her voice was serious.
"Nia, we have new information about Lorraine."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"We located records suggesting she contacted Evelyn's private investigator years ago."
I stared at my phone.
"She tried to tell someone where I was?"
"Yes."
My heart pounded.
"Then why didn't anyone find me?"
The detective hesitated.
"Because the investigator never passed along the information."
I felt cold.
"Why?"
"We're looking into that."
I closed my eyes.
Another betrayal.
Another person who could have brought me home.
Then Detective Brooks added something unexpected.
"There's also evidence that Lorraine left something for you."
My heart accelerated.
"What?"
"A recorded message."
I stopped breathing.
"From Lorraine?"
"Yes."
I gripped the phone.
"Can I hear it?"
The detective paused.
"We're authenticating it first."
I looked toward Evelyn.
She was watching me carefully.
Detective Brooks continued.
"Nia, the recording may explain what happened during the years you lived with Lorraine."
I swallowed.
"And why I was moved?"
"Possibly."
I closed my eyes.
The woman in the photograph had haunted me for weeks.
May you like
Now, even though she was dead, she might finally tell me why.
And I wasn't sure whether I was ready to hear her voice.
