Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Photograph
Lauren made it three steps before Mike blocked her path.
“Move.”
“No.”
Her eyes hardened.
“This is not your business.”
Mike gave a short, stunned laugh.
“My name is on a forged adoption document beside my ex-wife's. A missing woman is calling you. A child just pointed at you and said her mother warned her you'd be afraid.”
He held out his hand.
“It's my business.”
Lauren looked at me.
For the first time since she had walked into my life that afternoon, there was no superiority in her face.
Only calculation.
She was deciding what I knew.
The answer was simple.
Almost nothing.
And suddenly, that felt dangerous.
Rachel took Lily's hand.
“Jessica, we should get her somewhere quiet.”
Natalie offered us the bridal suite downstairs.
I wanted to refuse.
This was her wedding.
Her day.
Her photographs would already include one frame of my ex-husband publicly cornering me beside the roses and another of a frightened child clinging to my waist.
But Natalie touched my arm.
“Go.”
“Natalie—”
“Go.”
Her expression softened.
“You sat with me for six hours after I called off my first engagement. You can borrow a room for twenty minutes.”
That was friendship.
Not speeches.
Accounting.
Remembering who had carried whom.
We moved downstairs.
Mike followed.
So did Lauren.
Rachel objected.
“I don't think she should come.”
Lauren answered immediately.
“Then I leave.”
Mike stepped in front of the elevator doors.
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You don't get to tell me what to do.”
“You're right.”
His tone was calm.
Too calm.
“I don't. But if you walk out now, I'm calling the police and telling them a missing woman contacted you before she disappeared.”
Lauren's expression changed.
That landed.
Rachel looked at Mike.
“Maybe don't threaten people with police unless we know there's a crime.”
Mike didn't take his eyes off Lauren.
“Fine. Then I'll call Anna's family.”
Lauren flinched.
Good enough.
The bridal suite was filled with hairspray, garment bags, half-empty water bottles, makeup cases, and a pair of white satin shoes Natalie had abandoned because they hurt.
I sat with Lily on the sofa.
Rachel stood by the door.
Mike remained near the windows.
Lauren refused to sit.
I looked at the photocopied waiver again.
The document listed something called Hawthorne Family Services.
Under “birth parent confidential contact preference,” somebody had typed my married name.
Jessica Bennett Carter.
Under “legal paternal acknowledgment,” Mike's.
Except neither of us had a child.
At least not together.
“Lily,” I said gently, “did your mom give you this paper?”
She nodded.
“When?”
“Before she left.”
“What did she tell you?”
“To keep it safe.”
“Anything else?”
“She said Grandma knew where you were.”
I looked at her.
“Did your mom tell you who I am?”
Lily nodded.
“She said you were her friend.”
That made more sense than Mommy.
Not much more.
“But why did you call me Mommy?”
Her face reddened.
“I didn't mean to.”
I waited.
She looked embarrassed.
“My mom showed me your picture for a long time. She kept saying, ‘If anything happens, you find Jessica. Jessica will take care of you.’”
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Then when I saw you, I got confused.”
My chest tightened.
“You don't need to be embarrassed.”
“I miss her.”
“I know.”
She leaned against me.
I had known this child less than half an hour.
But fear recognizes safety faster than adults do.
Sometimes incorrectly.
Sometimes not.
Mike watched us.
His expression was impossible to read.
Then he looked at Lauren.
“How do you know Anna Reed?”
“I don't.”
Lily immediately said, “Yes, you do.”
Lauren closed her eyes briefly.
Mike turned toward Lily.
“How do you know?”
Lily reached for the photograph.
“Mommy showed me another picture.”
“Of Lauren?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
“At home.”
Lauren's voice came sharp.
“Children confuse people.”
Lily flinched.
My patience ended.
“Don't speak to her like that.”
Lauren stared at me.
“This is not your family, Jessica.”
The words came out before I could think about them.
“Apparently somebody went to considerable trouble to make that unclear.”
Mike almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at it.
“It's the hotel.”
He answered.
The call lasted less than a minute.
When he hung up, his face had changed.
“Evelyn was taken to Northwestern Memorial.”
Lily stood.
“Grandma?”
“She's awake.”
I exhaled.
“They think it may have been an anxiety episode, possibly cardiac. They're evaluating her now.”
“I want Grandma.”
I stood.
“We'll go.”
Lauren headed for the door.
Mike said, “You too.”
“No.”
“Anna's mother may know you.”
“She won't.”
“How do you know?”
Lauren stopped.
That question caught her.
She turned.
“I mean I have no reason to go.”
Mike studied her.
“What was Anna to you?”
“Nothing.”
I asked the question differently.
“What were you to Anna?”
Lauren's face went still.
Mike looked at me.
Then back at her.
“Answer.”
Lauren picked up her purse.
“I am done participating in this circus.”
Rachel stepped away from the door.
“Legally, she can leave.”
Mike swore.
I looked at Lauren.
“Go.”
Everyone turned toward me.
Lauren narrowed her eyes.
I smiled slightly.
“If you really have nothing to do with this, go.”
She didn't move.
That told me more than anything else.
“You're afraid of what Evelyn will say,” I continued.
“No.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
“I don't need to prove anything to you.”
“No.”
I nodded.
“You never did.”
Her brow furrowed.
That sentence meant something to her.
I saw it.
A memory.
Maybe a phrase.
Maybe my voice.
“Have we met before?”
“No.”
Another quick answer.
I stared.
Seventeen years earlier.
Lake Geneva.
Anna Reed.
A teenage girl standing beside me.
Her family had supposedly fallen apart.
Why?
What had Aunt Rebecca said?
Her older sister had gotten into trouble.
That was it.
An older sister.
I looked at Lauren.
“How old are you?”
She blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“How old?”
“Thirty-eight.”
Anna had been sixteen when I was twenty-three.
An older sister might have been—
Twenty-one.
I felt something settle inside me.
Not certainty.
Direction.
“Did Anna have a sister?”
Lauren's jaw tightened.
Mike noticed.
“Lauren.”
She grabbed the door handle.
“I'm leaving.”
I said one word.
“Laura.”
Lauren froze.
I had no idea where the name came from until the memory followed it.
Anna sitting on the dock.
Crying.
Me beside her.
She had said:
Laura doesn't want me there.
I stared at the woman across the room.
“Your name wasn't always Lauren.”
Mike slowly turned toward her.
“Was it?”
Lauren's face changed.
Not enough to confess.
Enough to answer.
She opened the door.
A man was standing outside.
Late sixties.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
He looked from Lauren to me.
Then to Lily.
His face drained.
“Jesus.”
Rachel moved forward.
“Who are you?”
He didn't answer her.
He looked at Lauren.
“You said the girl was gone.”
Lily grabbed my hand.
Lauren whispered, “Charles.”
Mike stepped between them.
“Who the hell are you?”
The man shut his eyes.
For one second, he looked old.
Then he reached into his jacket.
Rachel immediately tensed.
“Keep your hands visible.”
He slowly removed a leather wallet.
Not a weapon.
An identification card.
Hawthorne Family Services.
Retired administrator.
Charles Denton.
The same agency printed on the forged document.
I looked at him.
“Did you forge my signature?”
His eyes met mine.
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
He looked at Lauren.
“Yes.”
The room became completely still.
Mike's voice was low.
“Start talking.”
Charles walked inside and shut the door.
He looked at Lily again.
“Where is Anna?”
“We don't know,” I said.
His expression collapsed.
“That means she did it.”
“Did what?”
Charles swallowed.
“She opened the original file.”
Rachel crossed her arms.
“Mr. Denton, I suggest you stop speaking in riddles.”
He nodded.
“You're right.”
He looked at me.
“Jessica, seventeen years ago, Anna Reed gave birth to a baby.”
I stared at him.
Lily stared too.
“My mommy?”
“Yes.”
Mike asked, “What does that have to do with Jessica?”
Charles hesitated.
“Everything.”
Lauren stepped toward him.
“Don't.”
He looked at her.
“I've been quiet long enough.”
“Charles.”
“I destroyed my career protecting what you asked me to protect.”
Her face twisted.
“You were paid.”
Mike stared at her.
“Paid?”
Rachel took out her phone.
“I'm recording this.”
Charles nodded.
“Good.”
Then he looked at me.
“The baby Anna gave birth to was placed through Hawthorne.”
I looked at Lily.
“Lily?”
“No.”
My confusion deepened.
“Then who?”
Charles rubbed his face.
“Lily was born years later. Anna raised her herself.”
“Then what child are we talking about?”
Lauren whispered, “Stop.”
Charles ignored her.
“Anna's first child.”
Mike's patience broke.
“Why are our names on the document?”
Charles looked at him.
“Because somebody needed a married couple's identities to complete an illegal private placement.”
I felt dizzy.
I sat.
“Whose baby?”
Charles looked at Lauren.
“Anna's.”
“And where is that child now?”
His eyes returned to mine.
“That is the question Anna started asking six months ago.”
Lauren sank into a chair.
For the first time, she looked defeated.
Charles continued.
“Anna was sixteen. Her mother was struggling financially. Her father had left. Laura Reed—”
Mike looked at Lauren.
“Laura.”
She closed her eyes.
Charles nodded toward her.
“Anna's older sister arranged everything.”
“Why?”
Lauren opened her eyes.
“Because she couldn't raise a baby.”
“That wasn't your decision,” I said.
“You weren't there.”
“I was there that summer.”
“You knew her for six weeks.”
“I knew she cried every night.”
Lauren's face flickered.
“You don't know what our home was like.”
“No. But I know enough to understand why she remembered me seventeen years later.”
That struck.
She looked away.
Charles took a folded envelope from his jacket.
“Anna came to me three weeks ago.”
My pulse jumped.
“What did she want?”
“Names.”
“Whose?”
“The adoptive parents.”
“Did you give them to her?”
“No.”
Lauren exhaled.
Charles looked at her.
“I gave her something worse.”
He handed the envelope to me.
Inside was a printout.
Payments.
Dates.
Initials.
A transaction from Lauren to Charles seventeen years earlier.
Another to someone listed as R.C.
Another to a physician.
And one transfer from an account I recognized.
Mike's father.
Robert Carter.
Mike snatched the page.
“What the hell?”
I stared at him.
He looked genuinely shocked.
Maybe he was.
Maybe five years of marriage had taught me nothing.
Or maybe divorce had finally taught me the difference between his arrogance and actual fear.
“Your father knew,” I said.
Mike shook his head.
“No.”
Charles nodded.
“He did.”
“Why?”
“Because the placement involved your family.”
Mike went very still.
“What does that mean?”
Charles opened his mouth.
Lauren stood.
“No.”
Rachel said, “Sit down.”
Lauren ignored her.
“You promised.”
Charles laughed bitterly.
“I promised Laura Reed something seventeen years ago. Lauren Hayes is a woman I've watched build an entire life on that promise.”
Mike's voice was barely audible.
“What did my father do?”
Charles looked at him.
“Robert Carter took Anna's baby.”
Nobody moved.
I stared at Mike.
He stared at Charles.
Then Charles added:
“But he didn't give the child to strangers.”
My mouth went dry.
“Who did he give the baby to?”
Charles looked directly at Mike.
“To someone you know.”
Before he could say the name, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then a whisper.
“Jessica?”
I stood.
“Anna?”
A sob.
“Don't trust Charles.”
The call cut off.
Charles went white.
I looked at the screen.
A location had appeared in a text.
May you like
And beneath it:
COME ALONE. I FOUND MY FIRST DAUGHTER.
