Chapter 5 - THE MOTHER I BURIED WHO NEVER DIED
For eleven years, I had visited my mother's grave.
Every birthday.
Every Mother's Day.
Every time life became unbearable.
I talked to the stone because I believed she was beneath it.
Now Naomi was telling me Margaret Vance had been alive after her funeral.
I couldn't breathe.
"No."
Elias moved toward me.
Then stopped.
He didn't touch me.
Good.
I didn't want anyone deciding what comfort I needed.
Naomi continued carefully.
"The records need independent verification."
"Is she alive now?"
"We don't know yet."
My hands shook.
"Find out."
"We will."
Hours later, we had an answer.
A patient matching Margaret's identity had been transferred three years earlier.
Destination unknown.
But the transfer paperwork listed a second guardian.
Victor Miller.
My husband.
I stood.
"Victor knew my mother was alive."
Elias's face turned cold.
"Yes."
"All these years."
"Yes."
I started pacing.
He had watched me cry after nightmares about Mom.
Held me after I visited her grave.
Told me I needed to stop living in the past.
And all along, he may have known she was alive somewhere.
The rage was so sharp I almost welcomed it.
It was easier than grief.
Naomi obtained additional records.
Then Marco found the transfer destination.
A private rehabilitation facility near Albany.
I wanted to leave immediately.
Elias refused to order me either way.
Instead, Naomi arranged the visit legally.
That mattered too.
The next morning, I traveled with her.
Elias came only because I asked.
The facility was quiet.
Too quiet.
A nurse led us toward a sunroom.
My heart pounded.
Then I saw her.
An older woman sat near the window.
Silver threaded through her dark hair.
Her body looked thinner.
But the profile was unmistakable.
"Mom?"
The woman turned.
Her eyes widened.
Then she whispered:
"Ava?"
My knees gave out.
I ran toward her.
She opened her arms.
And I collapsed into them.
My mother.
Alive.
Warm.
Crying.
"My baby."
I sobbed into her shoulder.
"Why?"
She held me tighter.
"I tried."
"Why didn't you come home?"
Her body shook.
"They told me you were dead."
I froze.
"What?"
She pulled back.
"Charles showed me documents."
My stomach turned.
"He told me Victor killed you in an accident."
Elias swore under his breath.
My mother looked toward him.
Her expression shattered.
"Elias?"
He stopped.
Then tears streamed down his face.
"Margaret."
She covered her mouth.
"My little brother."
He laughed through tears.
"I'm older than you now."
She started crying harder.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Two siblings reunited.
A daughter brought back from a grave that never held her mother.
Then Margaret looked toward the babies' photographs on my phone.
"Those are yours?"
I smiled through tears.
"Your granddaughters."
Her face softened completely.
"Oh, Ava."
Then fear entered her eyes.
"Victor knows?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
She gripped my hand.
"You have to protect them."
"We are."
She shook her head.
"No, sweetheart. You don't understand."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
Margaret looked toward Elias.
May you like
Then whispered:
"Victor doesn't need a son anymore. One of the twins carries the original Vance inheritance marker."
