Chapter 14 - THE SISTERS THEIR MOTHER TRIED TO SAVE
Emma showed Vanessa the photograph the next morning.
Vanessa cried before reading the back.
“She knew about me?”
“You were born six years later.”
Vanessa wiped her face.
“Then she wrote this before I existed.”
Emma frowned.
They examined the handwriting again.
The second sentence looked different.
Newer ink.
Someone added it later.
Anthony.
He admitted it when confronted.
“Catherine contacted me years after Emma’s adoption.”
Emma stared.
“You said she died when I was nine months old.”
Anthony looked ashamed.
“I lied.”
Of course.
Emma laughed bitterly.
“Why?”
“Because Margaret told me Catherine died.”
“But?”
“She survived the crash.”
Emma’s breath caught.
“What?”
“She was hospitalized under another name.”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Anthony continued.
“Margaret paid to move her.”
“Where?”
“A rehabilitation facility.”
Emma’s knees weakened.
“For how long?”
“Two years.”
“And then?”
“She escaped.”
Emma stared.
“Escaped?”
“She found me.”
Anthony looked down.
“She wanted Emma back.”
Emma felt tears rising.
“And you?”
“I helped her find your adoptive parents.”
“Did she see me?”
“Yes.”
Emma stopped breathing.
Catherine had seen her.
Anthony continued.
“She watched you from across the street.”
“Why didn’t she come?”
“Because Margaret still had people following her.”
Vanessa whispered, “What happened after?”
“Catherine disappeared.”
Emma closed her eyes.
“Dead?”
“I don’t know.”
The possibility was worse than certainty.
Could Catherine still be alive?
At nearly sixty?
Maybe.
Emma hired investigators.
Dominic offered resources.
She hesitated.
Then accepted one thing.
His forensic team.
Not his money.
They searched records.
Names.
Shelters.
Medical systems.
Old employment.
After three weeks, they found a woman named Kate Reed living in Oregon.
Age matched.
History unclear.
No birth certificate.
No digital records before 1998.
Emma stared at the photograph.
Older woman.
Gray hair.
Familiar eyes.
Vanessa stood beside her.
“That’s her.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.”
She touched the screen.
“I just do.”
They flew to Oregon together.
Dominic stayed home with Clara.
Not because Emma asked.
Because he offered.
Emma noticed again.
The house stood near the coast.
Small.
Blue shutters.
Wind chimes.
Emma knocked.
A woman opened the door.
She stared.
Then covered her mouth.
“Oh.”
Emma could not speak.
Vanessa started crying.
The woman whispered:
“My girls.”
Emma nearly collapsed.
Catherine was alive.
The reunion was not simple.
There were no dramatic hugs at first.
Too much time.
Too much pain.
Catherine explained.
Margaret had threatened Emma’s adoptive parents.
Threatened Vanessa’s father.
Threatened everyone.
So Catherine stayed away.
She watched from distance when she could.
Sent information anonymously.
Helped Gabriel uncover the photograph.
Emma realized.
“You sent the email.”
Catherine nodded.
“The hotel picture.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Vanessa’s baby wasn’t Dominic’s?”
“I suspected Margaret was lying.”
Emma cried.
Vanessa cried.
Catherine cried.
They spent three days talking.
Not fixing.
Talking.
That was enough.
When Emma returned to Chicago, Dominic met her at the airport with Clara.
Emma took her daughter.
Then looked at Dominic.
“I found her.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“Vanessa texted.”
Emma smiled.
“She’s alive.”
Dominic’s eyes softened.
“I’m glad.”
Emma looked at him.
No jealousy.
No attempt to insert himself.
Just glad.
She stepped closer.
Then kissed his cheek.
Dominic froze.
Emma did too.
Neither spoke.
At home, Emma found a package.
No return address.
Inside was Margaret’s old hearing-aid case.
Emma’s stomach tightened.
She opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Not from Margaret.
From Vincent Moretti.
Dated six years earlier.
Emma read.
Dominic will never understand why silence frightens him until he understands what happened when he was eight.
Emma looked at Dominic.
“What happened when you were eight?”
His face went blank.
May you like
“I don’t remember.”
The final secret had been hiding inside his silence long before Emma ever entered his life.
