Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
We escaped through the service stairs.
By the time we reached the parking garage, my legs were shaking.
My father drove.
I sat beside him.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere Graham can't find us.”
“Does such a place exist?”
“Maybe.”
My phone rang.
Adrian.
I answered.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
I looked at my father.
“I don't know.”
“Good.”
“What happened at the hospital?”
“Graham's man was arrested.”
“Who?”
“A private security contractor.”
“Did he talk?”
“Not yet.”
Then Adrian's voice changed.
“Hannah, there's something else.”
“What?”
“The baby Maren delivered isn't Graham's concern.”
“Then whose?”
“Yours.”
My heart stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“I found a medical file.”
“What file?”
“Your fertility treatment records.”
I swallowed.
“What about them?”
“Someone accessed them months ago.”
“Who?”
“Rebecca.”
Again.
My aunt.
“Why would she care?”
“I don't know.”
My father suddenly said:
“She wasn't working alone.”
I looked at him.
“Who else?”
He didn't answer.
Adrian spoke through the phone.
“I think I know.”
“Who?”
“The fertility clinic administrator.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because the administrator was married to Graham's accountant.”
The pieces were becoming horrifying.
Someone had access to my medical information.
Someone had access to my financial identity.
Someone had access to my family's history.
And all of it connected to Graham.
But there was another question.
“Adrian,” I said, “why did you tell Maren that I knew about her?”
Silence.
“I thought it would keep her calm.”
“No.”
I could hear the hesitation.
“You wanted her to believe I approved of the money.”
“Yes.”
“So she wouldn't ask questions.”
“Yes.”
“You used me as cover.”
“Yes.”
I ended the call.
My father glanced at me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“You have every right to be angry.”
“Did you know?”
“I knew some of it.”
“Did you know about the $185,000?”
“No.”
“Did you know Adrian had been using my identity?”
“No.”
I stared through the windshield.
“Then why did you trust him?”
“Because he saved your life once.”
I turned.
“When?”
My father didn't answer immediately.
“Six years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Graham found you.”
My blood ran cold.
“You were supposed to be killed?”
“Yes.”
“Who stopped him?”
“Adrian.”
I couldn't process it.
“He followed you.”
My father continued.
“He found the man Graham hired. He got you out before anything happened.”
I remembered that night.
Six years earlier, Adrian had told me he had been stuck at work.
I had never questioned it.
Now I realized he had been somewhere else.
Saving me.
Or perhaps manipulating me.
I couldn't tell anymore.
My father pulled into a secluded property.
“We're here.”
I looked at the house.
“Whose is this?”
He didn't answer.
The front door opened.
A woman stepped outside.
She was in her sixties.
I recognized her immediately.
She had attended my mother's funeral.
She had spoken to me afterward.
She had told me my mother loved me.
Now she looked at my father and said:
“You brought her here too soon.”
I stared.
“Who are you?”
She looked at me.
Then at my stomach.
And whispered:
“I'm the woman who delivered you.”
My father closed his eyes.
May you like
The woman continued:
“And your mother wasn't your biological mother.”
