Chapter 7 - THE MOTHER WHO NEVER STOPPED WAITING
Clara Hayes had dreamed about meeting her biological mother since the moment Nora's letter revealed the truth.
She imagined anger.
Confusion.
An awkward silence.
Perhaps a woman who didn't want to see her.
What she didn't imagine was a trembling woman standing beside a window, holding a faded photograph of a baby.
Isabella Vane.
Forty years old.
Dark hair streaked with gray.
Thin hands.
Eyes that looked painfully familiar.
Clara stopped in the doorway.
The woman turned.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Isabella whispered, "Elizabeth?"
Clara felt tears gather.
"My name is Clara."
Isabella nodded quickly.
"Clara."
She smiled through tears.
"Nora chose that name."
Clara swallowed.
"Yes."
Isabella took a hesitant step.
"May I come closer?"
Clara nodded.
The woman crossed the room.
She lifted one trembling hand.
Then stopped.
"May I hug you?"
Clara began crying.
"Yes."
Isabella wrapped her arms around her.
For twenty years, a mother and daughter had lived separate lives.
One believing she might never see her child again.
The other believing the woman who raised her was her only mother.
Now they stood together.
And neither knew how to make up for the missing years.
"I'm sorry," Isabella whispered.
Clara shook her head.
"Don't."
"I tried to find you."
"I know."
Isabella pulled back.
"You know?"
Clara nodded.
"Nora left a letter."
Isabella covered her mouth.
"Oh, Nora."
Her expression crumpled.
"She saved you."
Clara smiled through tears.
"She did."
Isabella sat beside her.
For nearly an hour, they talked.
About childhood.
About Ruth Carter, Nora's mother, who sometimes helped care for Clara.
About school.
About birthdays.
About the tiny apartment where Clara grew up.
Isabella listened to every word.
Then Clara asked the question she'd been afraid to ask.
"Why didn't you leave Blackstone House?"
Isabella looked down.
"At first, I was recovering from medical treatment."
"What treatment?"
"After I confronted the people involved in Northbridge, I became seriously ill."
Clara frowned.
"How?"
Isabella hesitated.
"I don't know everything. Investigators are reviewing the records."
She continued.
"Anthony told me leaving would put my baby in danger."
Clara's hands tightened.
"And you believed him?"
"At first."
"Then?"
"He controlled my communications. Letters disappeared. Calls never connected."
Clara felt sick.
"So you were trapped."
Isabella nodded.
"Yes."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Isabella reached toward a drawer.
She removed a small photograph.
Nora holding newborn Clara.
Beside her stood a man in a white laboratory coat.
Clara frowned.
"Who's that?"
Isabella's expression changed.
"Dr. Samuel Hayes."
"My father?"
Isabella nodded.
Clara stopped breathing.
Nora had never told her who her biological father was.
Now she was staring at a photograph of him.
Isabella continued.
"He helped Nora get you out of the clinic."
Clara looked at his face.
Kind eyes.
Dark hair.
A small scar near his chin.
Then she noticed the date.
Twenty years earlier.
Three days after her birth.
"Where is he now?" she whispered.
Isabella's eyes filled.
"Samuel disappeared the night he tried to expose Northbridge."
Clara felt cold.
"Was he killed?"
Isabella shook her head.
"I don't know."
May you like
Then she looked directly into Clara's eyes.
"But I heard his voice last month."
