Chapter 10 — The Child Preston Could Never Have
Chapter 10 — The Child Preston Could Never Have
Laura's name remained on my screen.
I couldn't answer.
Not because I didn't want the truth.
Because for the first time in my life, I was afraid the truth might take something from me that I could never get back.
Sophie.
My daughter.
My little girl.
The child who had called me Mommy since she learned to speak.
The child whose nightmares I had comforted.
Whose scraped knees I had kissed.
Whose first word I had written in a baby book.
Whose birthday photographs covered the walls of my house.
The child who had slept against my chest while I whispered that nothing in the world could ever take me away from her.
And now Daniel was telling me that another woman had given birth to her.
Laura.
My best friend.
The woman who had stood beside me through everything.
I looked at Michael.
"Tell me he's wrong."
Michael didn't answer.
"Michael."
His eyes were wet.
"I don't know."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Daniel stepped closer.
"The DNA report is genuine."
"I know what the report says."
"Then you know—"
"No."
My voice cracked.
"I know what a piece of paper says."
I held up the report.
"But I also know who raised my daughter."
No one spoke.
I looked at Detective Harris.
"Take me to Laura."
He nodded.
"We're already looking for her."
"Don't look."
Harris frowned.
"I'll find her myself."
"Evelyn—"
"I want her to answer me."
Daniel looked at me.
"Be careful."
I turned toward him.
"Why?"
"Because Laura knows more than anyone."
"About Sophie?"
"About everything."
We found Laura at the church.
The little white church where she and I had once attended a memorial service for my grandfather.
She was sitting alone in the last pew.
Her hands were folded.
Her head was bowed.
She looked exactly the way I remembered her.
Soft.
Gentle.
Harmless.
For one terrible moment, I wanted to turn around.
Pretend none of this had happened.
Pretend the DNA report was wrong.
Pretend Daniel had lied.
Pretend my family had not spent years manipulating my life.
But then Laura lifted her head.
She saw me.
And she began to cry.
That was when I knew.
She wasn't surprised.
She had been waiting for me.
I walked down the aisle.
"How long?"
Laura wiped her face.
"What?"
"How long have you known?"
She looked at the floor.
"Eight years."
My chest tightened.
"So it's true."
She nodded.
"Sophie is my biological daughter."
The words were quiet.
Almost gentle.
But they destroyed something inside me.
I stopped three feet away from her.
"You gave birth to her."
"Yes."
"And I didn't know."
"No."
"You let me believe she was mine."
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"You let me raise another woman's child."
Laura looked at me.
"I let you raise your daughter."
I stared.
"She's not mine."
Laura stood.
"She is."
"Not biologically."
Laura's voice trembled.
"Biology isn't the only thing that makes someone a mother."
I wanted to hate her.
I desperately wanted to hate her.
But the words struck too close to home.
Because that was exactly what I had been thinking when Daniel showed me the report.
I had given birth to one baby.
Another baby had been placed in my arms.
But I had raised Sophie.
Loved Sophie.
Protected Sophie.
I was her mother.
Yet Laura had also lost something.
Something no one had asked her permission to take.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Laura looked toward the altar.
"Because your father threatened me."
"With what?"
"My life."
I froze.
"What?"
"He told me that if I ever told you the truth, he would make Sophie disappear."
I felt sick.
"Why would he care whether I knew?"
"Because you were the only person he couldn't control."
I shook my head.
"Then why did you stay near me?"
Laura looked at me.
"Because I needed to know my daughter was safe."
My anger exploded.
"You could have told me!"
"I tried."
"When?"
"The night she was born."
I stopped.
"What happened?"
Laura closed her eyes.
"I woke up after the delivery."
"Where?"
"An operating room."
"What?"
"They told me my baby had died."
My heart broke.
"What did you see?"
"A nurse."
"Who?"
"Victoria."
I went still.
"Victoria was there?"
Laura nodded.
"She told me my daughter hadn't survived."
"Then how did you know?"
"Because I heard her crying."
I couldn't breathe.
"You heard Sophie?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"In the nursery."
Laura's voice broke.
"I tried to get out of bed."
"But?"
"Someone injected me."
I stared.
"Who?"
"I never saw his face."
"What happened afterward?"
"When I woke up, Sophie was gone."
"And your records?"
"Deleted."
I felt cold.
"Then how did you find me?"
Laura gave a small, broken smile.
"Your grandfather."
I looked at Daniel.
He had followed us into the church.
He didn't deny it.
"Your grandfather found Laura three days after the birth," he said.
"Why?"
"Because he knew the baby switch had happened."
I stared.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Because your father had control of the hospital."
"And my husband?"
"Your husband was working with him."
I closed my eyes.
Eight years.
Eight years of lies.
I looked at Laura.
"What did Grandpa ask you to do?"
"Stay close to you."
"Why?"
"Because he believed your father would eventually try to take Sophie."
"And you agreed."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Laura's eyes filled with tears.
"Because she was my daughter."
The church fell silent.
I couldn't argue with that.
Not anymore.
Michael stepped into the church.
His face was pale.
He looked at Laura.
She looked at him.
Neither spoke.
Finally, Michael said:
"You knew."
Laura nodded.
"I knew you were her father."
Michael's eyes filled.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because your father was watching you."
"My father?"
Laura nodded.
"He wanted you dead."
Michael took a step back.
"Why?"
"Because you were the only person who could challenge the trust."
Daniel answered.
"And because Michael was the only person your father couldn't manipulate."
Michael stared at him.
"You let me believe my child died."
"I believed she was dead."
Laura shook her head.
"You didn't."
Michael looked at her.
"You knew."
Laura stepped closer.
"Your father told you I was dead."
Michael's expression changed.
"You?"
"Yes."
He looked at me.
Then Laura.
Then Daniel.
"How many people knew?"
Daniel answered:
"Enough to destroy you."
I sat in the pew.
My legs suddenly couldn't hold me.
"Tell me everything."
Laura sat beside me.
"Everything?"
"No more secrets."
She nodded.
"Then start with Sophie."
She took a breath.
"When she was born, your father discovered that she carried a rare genetic marker."
"What marker?"
"A marker connected to the original Bennett line."
Daniel nodded.
"The marker proves lineage."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because the original ownership of the Bradley Group was never transferred legally."
I frowned.
"Explain."
Daniel sat across from me.
"Your grandfather's father created the company with Daniel's father."
He looked at Michael.
"But the records were falsified."
"By whom?"
"Your grandfather's business partner."
"Who?"
Daniel looked at me.
"Your great-grandfather."
I stared.
"What?"
"Your family stole the company."
"From the Bennett family?"
"Yes."
I felt dizzy.
"So the Bradley fortune was stolen."
"Part of it."
"And Sophie can prove it?"
"Her DNA can prove the bloodline."
"That's why my father wanted her."
"Yes."
"That's why he wanted her erased."
"Yes."
I looked at Laura.
"And that's why you were targeted."
She nodded.
"I was supposed to disappear after the birth."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because your grandfather protected me."
I swallowed.
"Then why didn't he protect Sophie openly?"
"Because he needed your father to believe the switch had worked."
I stared.
"What switch?"
Laura looked at me.
"The baby in your arms wasn't the baby your father wanted."
I felt cold.
"What do you mean?"
"Your father arranged for your newborn daughter to be replaced with another child."
I remembered Daniel's words.
The baby I gave birth to had died.
Sophie was another woman's child.
But Laura was her mother.
So what was the other baby?
"Whose baby did they put in my arms?"
Laura looked away.
"Victoria's."
I froze.
"What?"
Laura whispered:
"Victoria had given birth two days earlier."
I stared at her.
"Victoria had a baby?"
"Yes."
"What happened to it?"
Laura's eyes filled with tears.
"It died."
My heart stopped.
"Then Sophie—"
"Was moved into your room after your baby died."
I felt sick.
"Why?"
"Because your father needed a living heir."
"And my baby?"
Laura looked down.
"She was taken."
"Where?"
"We don't know."
I stared at her.
"You're telling me I had a daughter who was taken from me."
Laura nodded.
"And I raised your daughter."
"Yes."
I looked at Michael.
"And you are Sophie's father."
"Yes."
"So my husband isn't her father."
"No."
I swallowed.
Then another question came.
"Then who is Preston?"
Everyone went silent.
I remembered Daniel's words.
Three children had been replaced.
Preston was not the original boy.
The implication had been horrifying.
But now I understood something even worse.
Preston's entire identity might be a lie.
I looked at Daniel.
"What did you mean when you said Preston wasn't the original boy?"
Daniel sighed.
"Preston was born to your father's mistress."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
"Victoria."
Silence.
I stared.
"Victoria is Preston's mother?"
"Yes."
I couldn't breathe.
"The woman who helped plant the phone?"
"Yes."
"The woman who was at the hospital?"
"Yes."
"The woman who has been working for my father?"
"Yes."
I suddenly understood why Preston had always looked different from the rest of my family.
Why my parents protected him.
Why my father treated him as if he were more important than me.
Why my mother had defended him for thirty years.
He wasn't simply the golden child.
He was their secret.
"What about his father?"
Daniel looked at Michael.
"Your father."
My mouth fell open.
"Preston is Dad's son?"
"Yes."
I shook my head.
"Then why did he need to be replaced?"
Daniel's voice became quieter.
"Because the original child was supposed to inherit the trust."
"Who?"
Daniel looked at me.
"Your brother."
I frowned.
"My brother is Preston."
"No."
My blood turned cold.
"The real Preston."
I stared.
"The child your mother gave birth to."
Daniel paused.
"Was kidnapped."
The room seemed to shrink.
"By whom?"
"Your father."
"Why?"
"Because the real Preston was sick."
"Sick?"
"He had a genetic condition."
"And?"
"He wouldn't survive childhood."
I stared.
"So my father replaced him."
"Yes."
"With Victoria's child."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Victoria's child was healthy."
I couldn't speak.
"They wanted a son who could inherit."
"But the real Preston—"
"Was inconvenient."
I felt disgust rise inside me.
"They abandoned their own child."
"Yes."
"And raised another."
"Yes."
"Did Mom know?"
Daniel looked at me.
"She knew."
I closed my eyes.
My mother had spent thirty years loving a child who wasn't hers.
While the child who was hers had been discarded.
Then I remembered the wedding.
Preston's rage.
His hatred toward Sophie.
His obsession with the inheritance.
Suddenly it made sense.
He had spent his entire life believing he was entitled to everything.
But he wasn't.
He was a replacement.
Just like the children before him.
Just like Sophie.
My father had built an entire family out of substitutions.
People were interchangeable.
Children were assets.
Blood was currency.
And anyone who threatened his plan disappeared.
My phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
An old hospital bracelet.
The name:
EVELYN CARTER
Then another.
A newborn bracelet.
BABY GIRL — FEMALE
Then a third.
A photograph of a little girl.
Maybe eight years old.
Blonde hair.
Green eyes.
A small scar above her eyebrow.
I stared.
I knew those eyes.
I had seen them in my own childhood photographs.
The girl looked like me.
Under the photograph was one sentence:
YOUR DAUGHTER IS ALIVE.
I stopped breathing.
Laura grabbed my hand.
"Evelyn?"
I showed her the phone.
Her face went white.
"I know that girl."
"Who is she?"
Laura's lips trembled.
"Her name is Lily."
"Lily?"
"Your daughter."
I stared at the photograph.
The little girl was smiling.
Alive.
Eight years old.
The same age as Sophie.
My daughter.
The baby my father had taken.
The child I had spent eight years believing had died.
"Where is she?"
Another message arrived.
COME ALONE.
Then:
BRING THE ORIGINAL WILL.
A third:
AND DO NOT TELL MICHAEL.
I looked at him.
He was watching me.
"What is it?"
I couldn't answer.
Because the final message had arrived.
IF YOU WANT YOUR FIRST DAUGHTER BACK, YOU HAVE SIX HOURS.
I looked again at the photograph.
Lily.
My biological daughter.
Alive.
Somewhere.
Waiting.
But there was one thing I didn't understand.
Why would the person holding her want the will?
And why did they specifically tell me not to tell Michael?
I turned to Daniel.
He looked at the photograph.
His face changed.
"That's impossible."
"What?"
"I know that child."
My heart stopped.
"How?"
Daniel stared at the screen.
"Because she isn't Lily."
I froze.
"What?"
He pointed at the photograph.
"Look at her left hand."
I zoomed in.
A tiny scar crossed her palm.
Daniel whispered:
"That's the mark they used to identify the Bennett children."
I looked at him.
"Then who is she?"
Daniel's voice was barely audible.
"Your father didn't steal your daughter."
He looked at Laura.
"Someone else did."
Laura covered her mouth.
Michael stepped closer.
"Who?"
Daniel looked toward the church doors.
And at that exact moment, they slammed shut.
A woman's voice came from the darkness behind us.
"You really should have stopped digging, Evelyn."
I turned.
Victoria stood at the entrance.
She was holding a photograph.
And beside her stood a little girl.
Blonde hair.
Green eyes.
Eight years old.
My heart stopped.
"Sophie?"
The girl looked at me.
Then she smiled.
But something was wrong.
She didn't call me Mommy.
She whispered:
"You're not my mother."
Laura gasped.
Michael stepped forward.
Victoria raised a gun.
"One more step..."
She pressed the barrel against the child's head.
"...and you will never find out which daughter is actually yours."
I couldn't move.
Two girls.
Two identities.
One impossible truth.
And somewhere inside the Bradley family records was the answer to the question that could destroy everyone:
Which child had my blood?
May you like
Victoria smiled.
"Welcome to the real inheritance, Evelyn."
