Chapter 6: The Woman Who Remembered Both Babies
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the two hospital bracelets lying side by side.
Two babies.
Two names.
Two times written by the same hand.
And one note claiming that an exchange had been completed.
At three in the morning, I sat on the floor of my apartment with every photograph I owned spread across the rug. I searched for anything that might have belonged to my first year of life.
There were pictures of birthdays, school concerts, summer trips, and Christmas mornings.
In nearly every photograph, my mother stood behind me with one hand resting on my shoulder.
Marcus was usually beside us, smiling at the camera.
But there were almost no photographs from my infancy.
The earliest image I could find showed me sitting in a high chair, wearing a yellow sweater and staring suspiciously at a birthday cake.
The back was blank.
I held the photograph beneath the kitchen light.
I didn't know what I had expected to discover. A hospital bracelet tucked into the frame, perhaps. A date written in my mother's handwriting. A hidden clue that would tell me who I had been before I learned to speak.
There was nothing.
At six thirty, my phone rang.
Victor.
"Did you get any sleep?"" he asked.
"No.""
"Neither did I.""
I stared at the photographs scattered around me.
"Are you sure you want to meet her?""
"Margaret?""
"Yes.""
"I've wanted answers from her for twenty years.""
"What if she lies?""
"Then we'll ask for evidence.""
I rubbed my eyes.
"What if she tells us something we can't undo?""
Victor was silent for a moment.
"Nia, the truth doesn't become more dangerous because we hear it. It becomes more dangerous when someone else gets to decide what we know.""
I looked at the photograph in my hand.
"Where do we meet her?""
"Daniel arranged a private room at a public library in Brunswick. Margaret agreed to the location. It's neutral, and there will be staff nearby.""
"Why Brunswick?""
"She says she moved there several years ago.""
I stood and walked to the window.
The sky was beginning to lighten.
"Victor?""
"Yes?""
"If she tells us I'm not your daughter, what happens?""
He didn't answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was steady.
"Then we'll establish what happened. But nothing she says will erase the years I spent searching for you, and nothing will change how I feel about the little girl I held in that hospital.""
My eyes filled.
I hated how badly I wanted to believe him.
"All right," I whispered.
"I'll meet her.""
At nine forty-five, Victor picked me up.
He had changed into a dark gray suit, and the shadows beneath his eyes made him look older than he had the day before. He opened the passenger door for me but didn't try to hug me.
I appreciated that.
We drove south beneath a pale autumn sky, the coastal marshes stretching in broad green and brown ribbons beyond the highway.
For almost twenty minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then Victor said, "There's something I should have told you yesterday.""
I turned toward him.
"What?""
"When I first learned you might be alive, I received a report suggesting that your identity had been altered before your first birthday.""
I stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because the report was incomplete. It contained an unverified allegation, and I didn't want to frighten you with something I couldn't prove.""
"You're going to have to stop protecting me from information.""
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"You're right.""
I looked out at the passing marshland.
"Do you know what happened to the other baby?""
"No.""
"Do you think she's alive?""
"I don't know.""
"Do you think she grew up believing she was someone else, too?""
Victor's silence answered me.
When we reached the library, a man in his early forties was waiting near the entrance. He wore a brown jacket, carried a leather folder, and had the cautious posture of someone who spent his working life asking questions that other people preferred not to answer.
"Mr. Hayes?"" he asked.
Victor nodded.
"I'm Daniel Brooks.""
He shook Victor's hand, then turned to me.
"Nia. I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.""
"Can you find out who I am?""
Daniel held my gaze.
"I can help you find the records. The records may tell us what happened. Whether they tell us everything is another question.""
It was an honest answer.
I followed him inside.
We walked past shelves of books and a row of computers until we reached a small meeting room near the back. A table stood beneath a rectangular ceiling light. Two cups of untouched coffee sat beside a stack of papers.
An elderly woman sat with her back to the window.
She wore a cream cardigan, dark trousers, and a gold ring set with a deep blue stone.
The same ring my mother had described.
When she saw Victor, she rose slowly.
For a moment, the two of them simply stared at each other.
Then Margaret Vale whispered, "You look older.""
Victor's expression hardened.
"So do you.""
She accepted the remark without protest.
Her eyes moved to me.
"Nia.""
I didn't sit.
"You said you could explain what happened.""
Margaret nodded.
"I can explain some of it.""
"Did you help change my identity?""
She lowered herself into her chair.
"Yes.""
The answer came so quickly that I felt the air leave my lungs.
Victor pulled out a chair for me, but I remained standing.
"You helped change my identity?""
"I signed the paperwork that made the altered records official.""
"Why?""
Margaret looked at the papers before her.
"Because I was told it was necessary to protect two children.""
"From whom?""
She raised her eyes.
"From a man named Robert Voss.""
Daniel opened his folder.
"Robert Voss was a hospital board member at the time?""
Margaret nodded.
"He had influence over the hospital's funding and several senior appointments. He wasn't a physician, but he believed he could dictate how the administration handled difficult cases.""
Victor's jaw tightened.
"What did he have to do with Nia's birth?""
Margaret folded her hands.
"Two infant girls were delivered within twenty-four minutes of each other. One was the biological daughter of Victor Hayes and Denise Carter. The other belonged to a young woman named Evelyn Brooks.""
Daniel stopped writing.
"Brooks?""
Margaret nodded.
"Evelyn was unmarried. She had no family nearby. She had come to the hospital under an arrangement that was supposed to protect her privacy.""
I looked at Daniel.
"Are you related to her?""
He shook his head.
"Brooks is a common name. I don't know her.""
Margaret continued.
"Both infants required additional monitoring after delivery. There was confusion during a transfer between nursery rooms. When the identification bracelets were checked, the staff discovered that the babies' records might have been crossed.""
"Might have been?"" I repeated.
"At first, no one knew whether the mistake involved the bracelets, the written records, or the physical transfer of the children.""
Victor leaned forward.
"Then why didn't you investigate?""
"We did.""
"And?""
Margaret looked at him.
"Robert Voss intervened before the review was complete.""
The room seemed to grow colder.
"What did he do?"" I asked.
"He ordered the staff to preserve the existing discharge arrangements while the matter was reviewed privately. He claimed that a public investigation would expose confidential medical information and damage the hospital's reputation.""
"That doesn't explain why you changed my identity.""
Margaret's fingers tightened around each other.
"No. It doesn't.""
She reached into her bag and removed a thin file.
Inside were photocopies of hospital forms, handwritten notes, and two photographs of newborns.
She placed them on the table.
"I was instructed to prepare corrected records. But the information I received was contradictory. One form identified the baby in the Hayes room as Nia Elise Hayes. Another listed the child in that room as the infant born to Evelyn Brooks.""
I stared at the documents.
"Which one was me?""
Margaret's eyes filled.
"I can't tell you with certainty from these records alone.""
Victor stood abruptly.
"You've had twenty-four years.""
"I know.""
"You signed the report saying my daughter was dead.""
"I did.""
"You allowed me to believe she'd died while you knew the records were uncertain.""
Margaret flinched.
"I was afraid of Voss.""
"So was Denise," I said.
"Apparently everyone was afraid of someone, and I was the one who had to live with the consequences.""
Margaret bowed her head.
"You're right.""
Her lack of defense made me angrier than an excuse would have.
I pulled out a chair and finally sat down.
"Tell me about Evelyn Brooks.""
Margaret hesitated.
"She left the hospital with a baby registered under her name. A few months later, she contacted us because she believed the child didn't resemble the photographs taken shortly after birth.""
"Did you tell her about the discrepancy?""
"No.""
"Why not?""
"Because Voss had instructed us not to reopen the case. He said the matter had been resolved and that any further inquiries would be treated as a breach of confidentiality.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"So Evelyn thought she had the wrong baby, and you did nothing?""
"I sent her a letter telling her the records were correct.""
"Was that true?""
Margaret closed her eyes.
"No.""
Victor looked as though he might strike the table.
Instead, he planted both hands on it and leaned forward.
"Where is Evelyn now?""
Margaret shook her head.
"I don't know.""
Daniel spoke carefully.
"When was the last time you heard from her?""
"About two years after the births. She sent a letter saying she intended to request an independent review. Shortly afterward, she disappeared from the address we had on file.""
"Disappeared how?"" Daniel asked.
"She moved. Her mail was returned. We couldn't locate her through the contacts she had provided.""
"Did Voss arrange that?""
"I don't know.""
I looked at the photographs.
One showed a newborn wrapped in a striped blanket.
The other showed a baby in a plain white blanket, her tiny face turned toward the camera.
Both had dark hair.
Both had small noses and round cheeks.
There was no way to tell which child was me.
"Did you keep these photographs all this time?"" I asked.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
Margaret's voice broke.
"Because I knew I had done something wrong.""
She reached into her cardigan pocket and removed a small envelope.
"I received this yesterday. It was left at my door.""
She slid it across the table.
Inside was a recent photograph of a woman standing outside a modest brick house.
On the back, someone had written a name and a phone number.
*Evelyn Brooks.*
Beneath it was a short message.
She knows which baby she took home.
I stared at the photograph.
The woman looked to be in her late forties. Her hair was pulled back, and she wore a simple green coat. She was holding a paper grocery bag and looking over her shoulder as if she had noticed someone watching her.
"Where was this taken?"" Daniel asked.
Margaret shook her head.
"I don't know. The envelope had no return address.""
Daniel examined the number.
"I can verify whether it's active.""
He stepped into the hallway to make the call.
Victor sat beside me.
I stared at the photograph until the woman's face blurred.
"Suppose Evelyn is my biological mother," I whispered.
"Then what does that make Denise?""
Victor took a breath.
"The woman who raised you.""
"And if Denise is my biological mother?""
"Then Evelyn may have raised the other child.""
I looked at him.
"Either way, someone lost a daughter.""
He nodded.
"Yes.""
For the first time since the ceremony, I felt something other than anger.
I felt grief for a woman whose name I had never heard until that morning.
I imagined Evelyn standing beside a hospital crib, trusting the people around her to protect her newborn. I imagined her carrying a baby home, perhaps believing that the small life in her arms was the one she had delivered.
Then I imagined her looking at the child months later and wondering why something felt wrong.
How many times had she asked herself whether she was imagining things?
How many times had someone told her to stop asking questions?
Daniel returned.
"The number is active," he said.
"But the person who answered refused to confirm the address.""
Margaret covered her mouth.
"She's alive.""
Daniel looked at the photograph.
"Possibly. We need to verify that the person who answered is Evelyn.""
I rose.
"Then let's go find her.""
Victor stood beside me.
"We'll do it carefully.""
I turned toward Margaret.
"You're coming with us.""
She looked startled.
"Nia—"
"You helped create this mess. You're going to help us uncover the truth.""
She nodded slowly.
"I will.""
Daniel gathered the documents into his folder.
As we left the meeting room, my phone vibrated.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
This time, there was no photograph.
Only seven words.
Don't let Evelyn tell you who you are.
I stopped walking.
Victor read the message over my shoulder.
His face darkened.
Daniel immediately took out his phone.
"Don't respond," he said.
"I'll preserve the message and see what can be established.""
I stared at the screen.
The sender knew we had met Margaret.
They knew we were looking for Evelyn.
And they were afraid of what she might tell me.
I looked back toward the meeting room.
Margaret was standing in the doorway, watching us with tears in her eyes.
"Who would send that?"" I asked.
She hesitated.
Then she spoke so quietly I almost didn't hear her.
"Robert Voss had a son.""
Victor turned.
Margaret's face had gone pale.
"And his name," she whispered, "is Marcus Carter.""
My brother's name.
My brother, who had spent his entire life believing our father abandoned us.
My brother, who had never questioned why our mother kept his childhood photographs beside an empty space where our father should have been.
My brother, who had just become connected to the man who allegedly ordered my identity changed.
I looked at Victor.
He shook his head in disbelief.
But Margaret was already reaching into her bag again.
This time, she removed a final document.
At the top was the name Robert Voss.
At the bottom was a signature that looked exactly like the one on the letter my mother had received years ago.
May you like
And beside it was a handwritten instruction.
The Carter girl must never meet her father.
