Chapter 12 - THE SISTER I NEVER KNEW EXISTED
I had spent twenty-six years believing I was an only child.
Now my mother was telling me I had a sister.
I stared at the photograph.
"How?"
Mom wiped her tears.
"Before I married your father, I had a daughter."
My heart pounded.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was seventeen. My parents forced me to place her for adoption."
I looked at the girl's face again.
She had my mother's eyes.
My nose.
Even the same small dimple in her chin.
"What's her name?"
"Emma."
Roman sat quietly beside me.
Mom continued.
"I searched for her when I was older. But the adoption records were sealed."
"Then why did Whitlock have this photograph?"
Her expression darkened.
"Because he found Emma before I did."
I felt cold.
"What did he do?"
"He used her identity to threaten me. He said if I exposed the financial records, he'd destroy her life."
Olivia leaned forward.
"Do you know where she is now?"
Mom shook her head.
"No."
Roman looked toward Samuel.
"Can the investigators trace her?"
Samuel nodded.
"There are adoption records and financial transactions we can review."
I stared at the photograph.
My sister.
Somewhere in the world was a woman who shared my mother's blood.
A woman who might have spent her entire life wondering where she came from.
"I want to find her," I whispered.
Mom squeezed my hand.
"So do I."
Three weeks later, Olivia called.
Emma had been located.
Her full name was Emma Sullivan.
She was thirty-four years old.
And she lived in Boston.
Olivia explained that Emma had agreed to receive a message but wanted time before deciding whether to meet.
I understood.
Finding out your biological family had been searching for you wasn't something anyone should be forced to process quickly.
Then one afternoon, my phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice answered.
"Is this Claire Bennett?"
"Yes."
There was a pause.
"My name is Emma."
My throat tightened.
"Hi."
She laughed nervously.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to say."
"Me neither."
We both laughed.
Then Emma whispered, "I've always wondered if I had a sister."
Tears filled my eyes.
"You do."
A week later, we met in a quiet café in Boston.
Mom came with me.
When Emma saw her, she stopped walking.
Mom stood.
For a moment, the two women simply stared at each other.
Then Emma crossed the room.
And my mother held the daughter she had lost thirty-four years earlier.
I watched them embrace.
Something inside me healed.
But Emma had brought a surprise.
She opened her handbag and placed a photograph on the table.
It showed her standing beside Arthur Whitlock.
I stared.
"Why do you have that?"
Emma looked at me.
"Because Whitlock wasn't just threatening me."
May you like
She swallowed.
"He was my adoptive father's business partner."
