PART 5
Michael paused.
“They had discovered that your pregnancy was much farther along than the original records showed.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It didn’t to me either.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out another file.
“Your dates had been altered.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Someone had changed your medical records.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t eight weeks pregnant.”
My heart pounded.
“How far along was I?”
“Almost four months.”
I stared at him.
“That still doesn’t explain Lily.”
“No.”
“What does?”
Michael opened the file.
“Your original records showed a complication involving your uterus. The doctors believed you could not safely continue the pregnancy.”
I whispered, “So they delivered the baby?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“They performed an emergency procedure to preserve your life.”
He swallowed.
“The baby was still alive.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“What happened to her?”
“Dr. Harris arranged for another medical team to take over.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed someone was trying to get control of the baby.”
“Who?”
Michael looked at me.
“The man you had the affair with.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He wasn’t just your lover.”
Michael pushed a photograph toward me.
I recognized the man immediately.
The man I had believed loved me.
The man who had told me I was special.
The man who had promised that someday we would be together.
His real name was printed beneath the photograph.
Daniel Harris.
Dr. Harris’s son.
I stared at the page.
“His son?”
Michael nodded.
“He approached you because he knew you were pregnant.”
My stomach turned.
“But I didn’t know.”
“No.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Your father had discovered something.”
“What?”
Michael took a breath.
“Your father had created a trust for you.”
I stared at him.
“A trust?”
“Not an ordinary one.”
He placed another document on the table.
I read the first paragraph.
My father’s name.
My name.
Then a number.
My hands went cold.
“That’s…”
“Your father had accumulated significant assets before his death.”
“How much?”
Michael looked at me.
“Enough that several people were willing to destroy lives for it.”
I looked back at the document.
The trust had been established in my name.
But there was another beneficiary.
Child of Susan Miller.
I couldn’t breathe.
“That’s why.”
Michael nodded.
“They wanted access to the trust.”
“But why did they need my baby?”
“Because your father’s will contained a condition.”
“What condition?”
Michael hesitated.
“The trust couldn’t be accessed until your child reached adulthood.”
I stared at him.
“So Lily…”
“Was the key.”
I sat down.
For eighteen years, my daughter had unknowingly been the reason people had watched me.
The reason someone had followed Michael.
The reason records had disappeared.
The reason my father had left warnings.
The reason my husband had remained silent.
But there was still something I couldn’t understand.
“If they wanted the money, why didn’t they simply take Lily?”
“They tried.”
I looked up.
“When?”
“After she was born.”
“What happened?”
“Margaret took her.”
“Why?”
“She was a nurse at the hospital. She knew what was happening.”
Michael looked down.
“She changed the baby’s records and arranged for Lily to be placed under her family’s protection.”
I stared at him.
“Then why was she called Lily Harris?”
“Because it was safer than using your name.”
“And Dr. Harris?”
“He helped protect her.”
I shook my head.
“But he was involved.”
“He was.”
“How can he be both?”
“Because he made terrible choices.”
Michael’s voice became quiet.
“He helped create the situation, then spent the rest of his life trying to undo it.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Lily.
My daughter.
Eighteen years old.
Alive.
And I had never held her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Michael looked at me.
“Because they threatened Jake.”
My eyes filled.
“Who?”
“The people controlling the trust.”
“Are they still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
Michael pushed another document toward me.
There were several names.
Lawyers.
Businessmen.
A former hospital administrator.
And one name that made me stop.
Daniel Harris.
My former lover.
I stared at it.
“He’s still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Michael didn’t answer.
I looked up.
“Where is he?”
“He’s been trying to find Lily.”
“Why?”
“Because the trust becomes accessible when she turns eighteen.”
I looked at the clock.
September.
Lily’s birthday was October 29.
She would turn eighteen in just over a month.
Michael whispered:
“That’s why everything started again.”
My doctor.
The ultrasound.
The missing records.
The hospital.
Margaret.
The surveillance.
They weren’t random.
Someone had realized I was beginning to uncover the truth.
And Lily’s eighteenth birthday was approaching.
The next morning, Michael and I drove to Margaret’s house.
She opened the door before we knocked.
“I knew you’d come.”
“Where is Lily?”
Margaret looked at Michael.
Then she looked at me.
“She wants to meet you.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
“Your father’s old house.”
I hadn’t been there since I was twenty-nine.
It had been sold after his death.
Or so I thought.
Margaret gave me an address.
I stared at it.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“My father sold that property.”
Margaret shook her head.
“He never sold it.”
“What?”
“The ownership was transferred into the trust.”
Michael nodded.
“That was the secret.”
We arrived just before sunset.
The house looked almost exactly as I remembered.
The old oak tree.
The stone walkway.
The blue shutters.
The porch where my father used to sit.
I hadn’t realized how much I had missed it.
Then the front door opened.
A young woman stepped outside.
Lily.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
Neither of us moved.
For a moment, the world became completely silent.
Then she whispered:
“Mom?”
My knees nearly gave out.
I covered my mouth.
She took one step toward me.
Then another.
I wanted to run to her.
But I was afraid.
Afraid that if I touched her, she would disappear.
Afraid she would hate me.
Afraid eighteen years of stolen time would suddenly become unbearable.
Lily stopped a few feet away.
“I’ve wanted to meet you my whole life.”
Tears streamed down my face.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“I was told…”
“I know.”
Her voice broke.
“My whole life, everyone told me you didn’t know I existed.”
I shook my head.
“I would have come.”
“I believe you.”
Those three words nearly destroyed me.
I stepped forward.
“Can I hug you?”
She nodded.
I wrapped my arms around my daughter.
She was eighteen.
But for one terrible second, I imagined her as a baby.
A baby I should have held.
A baby I should have watched grow.
A baby whose first steps I should have seen.
Her tears soaked my shoulder.
