Chapter 8: The Girl in the Photograph
Lily stood in the doorway holding the photograph.
Nobody moved.
Detective Brooks slowly approached her.
“Sweetheart, where did you get that?””
Lily pointed toward the east wing.
“Inside Mommy's old box.””
Simone appeared behind her.
“Lily, give that to me.””
The little girl pulled the photograph against her chest.
“No.””
Simone stopped.
“Lily, please.””
“You told me never to open the box.””
“Because it contains private family things.””
Lily shook her head.
“But there's a picture of me.””
I crouched beside her.
“Can I see it?””
She handed it to me.
The photograph showed three newborn babies.
I recognized the hospital blankets.
One baby wore the blue-star blanket.
Another had a pink blanket.
The third was wrapped in white.
On the back, three names had been written.
Ava.
Lily.
And a third name.
*ELLA.*
I looked at Simone.
“Who is Ella?””
She covered her mouth.
Detective Brooks took the photograph.
“Mrs. Carter?””
Simone backed away.
“Please.””
“Who is Ella?””
Simone's voice broke.
“She's the child my father gave away.””
I felt anger rise.
“To whom?””
Simone looked at Lily.
“Jonathan.””
I frowned.
“Your brother?””
She nodded.
“Jonathan raised Ella for the first few months.””
I stared at her.
“Then why did Lily say Jonathan was her father?””
Simone closed her eyes.
“Because Lily was raised to believe that.””
I looked down at the photograph.
Three babies.
Three names.
Three lies.
“Where is Ella now?”” I demanded.
Simone shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Detective Brooks stepped closer.
“You keep saying you don't know. But every time we uncover something, you reveal another person you supposedly know nothing about.””
Simone looked at her.
“My father handled everything. Jonathan was involved. I was told to keep quiet.””
“Were you involved in the transfers?””
Simone didn't answer.
Detective Brooks repeated the question.
“Were you?””
“Yes.””
The word came out barely above a whisper.
Marcus closed his eyes.
I felt something inside me break.
“How could you do this?””
Simone looked at me.
“I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“My father.””
“You were an adult!””
“He controlled everything. My money, my home, my inheritance. He threatened to leave me with nothing.””
“So you let him take children?””
Simone began crying.
“I thought I was saving them.””
Maria appeared behind us.
She had been standing in the hallway listening.
“Saving them from what?””
Simone turned.
Maria's face was exhausted, but her eyes were steady.
“You keep talking about what your father wanted. What about what those children needed?””
Simone lowered her head.
Maria continued.
“Did you ever think about the mother who went home without her baby?””
Simone whispered, “I'm sorry.””
Maria shook her head.
“Sorry doesn't give me back six years.””
Detective Brooks arranged a formal interview with Lily.
The child was given a quiet room, a family liaison, and time to answer questions without pressure.
I waited outside.
After twenty minutes, the detective came out.
“She says she has seen another girl.””
“Where?””
“At a house belonging to Jonathan.””
Marcus looked up.
“Is that property still owned by the Brooks family?””
Simone nodded.
“Yes. It's outside the city. My father called it the lake house.””
Detective Brooks asked for the address.
Simone provided it.
Maria stepped closer.
“Did Lily say when she saw the girl?””
“Last summer,” the detective answered.
I turned toward Lily's room.
“Why didn't she tell anyone?””
The detective lowered her voice.
“Because she was told the girl was imaginary.””
I felt sick.
“What did the girl look like?””
“According to Lily, she was about the same age. Dark hair. A small crescent-shaped birthmark behind her left ear.””
Maria covered her mouth.
“The third baby.””
Detective Brooks nodded.
“We're requesting a search authorization for the property.””
I looked at Marcus.
“I'm going with you.””
“Daniel, the police need to handle this.””
“I know. But if there's another child out there, I'm not sitting in this house.””
Detective Brooks considered it.
“You can accompany us, but you follow instructions. No approaching anyone without permission.””
“I understand.””
The lake house stood at the end of a narrow private road.
It was a large wooden property surrounded by tall trees.
The windows were dark.
A rusted swing moved gently in the wind.
Detective Brooks approached the front door with two officers.
She knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
“Police! Open the door!””
Silence.
An officer checked the side entrance.
It was unlocked.
The team entered carefully.
The house smelled of old wood and stale coffee.
There were children's toys scattered across the living room.
A small pink bicycle leaned against the wall.
On the kitchen counter sat a half-empty glass of milk.
I looked around.
Someone had been there recently.
“Detective,” an officer called.
She moved toward the hallway.
“What is it?””
“We found a bedroom.””
Inside was a small bed with a yellow blanket.
A children's drawing was taped to the wall.
Three stick figures stood beneath a blue sky.
One was labeled MOM.
One was labeled DAD.
The third was labeled ELLA.
Maria stepped into the room.
Her face crumpled.
“This child has been here.””
Detective Brooks examined the drawing.
“There's a date.””
I looked.
The drawing had been dated three days earlier.
Three days.
We had been searching for the truth while another little girl had been living in this house.
Then I noticed a photograph on the bedside table.
A young woman stood beside a little girl.
The woman had long dark hair.
The child had a crescent-shaped birthmark behind her left ear.
I picked up the photograph.
On the back was a handwritten message.
*For Ella. So you never forget who loved you first.*
Maria stared at it.
“That's Grace.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“Grace was here?””
Detective Brooks called for the property manager.
Meanwhile, one officer found a locked basement door.
“Detective, we need you downstairs.””
The door opened after a few minutes.
The basement was cold and poorly lit.
There were old filing cabinets, boxes of medical paperwork, and a small wooden desk.
On the desk sat a laptop.
An officer turned it on.
The desktop contained a folder named:
*THREE DAUGHTERS.*
Detective Brooks opened it.
Inside were scanned birth certificates, adoption papers, and photographs.
Then we found a video.
It showed a little girl sitting on a chair.
She was perhaps six years old.
She wore a yellow dress.
A man's voice came from behind the camera.
“Tell me your name.””
The child looked directly into the lens.
“Ella.””
“Who is your mother?””
The girl hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“Maria.””
Maria made a sound I had never heard from another human being.
She covered her mouth and sank into a chair.
The video continued.
The man asked:
“Who is your father?””
The child looked confused.
Then she answered:
“I don't know.””
The screen went black.
Maria began sobbing.
“That's my baby.””
I looked at Detective Brooks.
“Can we identify who recorded this?””
She examined the file information.
“The video was created eleven months ago.””
Marcus looked at the laptop.
“There's another file.””
He opened it.
A scanned document appeared.
It was a handwritten statement signed by William Brooks.
The first paragraph described three newborn girls.
The second paragraph explained the transfers.
But the final paragraph contained a sentence that made everyone stop breathing.
The child known as Ella is not biologically related to any of the three women named in this agreement.
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Marcus looked at me.
“It means one of the children was not born to the woman we've been told.””
Maria stared at the screen.
“Then whose baby is she?””
Before anyone could answer, a sound came from upstairs.
A door slammed.
Detective Brooks immediately turned.
“Police! Stay where you are!””
Footsteps ran across the wooden floor.
Two officers rushed upstairs.
I followed them as far as the basement entrance.
Then I heard a child's voice.
“Don't take me back!””
I froze.
A little girl stood at the top of the stairs.
She wore a yellow dress.
Her hair was tangled.
And behind her left ear was the crescent-shaped birthmark.
Maria began crying.
“Ella?””
The little girl stared at her.
Then she whispered:
“Mommy?””
Maria reached for the railing.
But before she could climb the stairs, the girl pointed toward the back door.
“Don't let him come back!””
Detective Brooks stepped forward.
“Who, sweetheart?””
Ella began shaking.
“The man who says he's my father.””
I looked toward the open doorway.
A black vehicle was disappearing down the private road.
May you like
And on the passenger seat, I caught sight of a familiar silver bracelet.
Simone's bracelet.
