Chapter 3 - THE DAUGHTER WHO WAS NEVER BURIED
Nora had spent four years grieving Lily.
Now she found herself staring at the photograph of an unknown newborn and wondering whether grief had lied to her too.
Vincent took the picture.
“Ellis could mean anything.”
Nora shook her head.
“My mother’s maiden name was Ellis. Mine too.”
Marcus looked sick.
“What year were you born?”
“Twenty-four years ago.”
He exhaled.
“Then it isn’t you.”
Relief came too quickly.
Then Nora remembered.
“Lily was twenty-one when she died.”
Everyone looked at her.
“When was she born?” Vincent asked.
Nora gave the date.
Marcus opened the ledger.
Same day.
Same month.
Same year.
Evelyn collapsed into a chair.
Her hands flew to her mouth.
Vincent looked at Nora.
“Your sister was born deaf?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn began crying.
Not quietly.
Deep, breathless sobs shook her body.
Nora moved beside her automatically.
Evelyn signed through tears.
My daughter.
Nora stared.
Vincent stopped moving.
Nora whispered, “She thinks Lily was her baby.”
“No.”
The word came from Vincent.
Then again.
“No.”
He turned to Marcus.
“Tell me she’s wrong.”
Marcus stared at the ledger.
“I can’t.”
Nora felt the room narrowing.
“My mother gave birth to Lily.”
“Did she?” Marcus asked softly.
Nora looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Marcus rubbed both hands over his face.
“Rebecca Ellis wasn’t your biological mother.”
Nora stepped backward.
“What?”
“Not Lily’s.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Rebecca was given a child.”
Nora’s voice cracked.
“By who?”
Marcus looked at Evelyn.
“By me.”
Nora hit him.
Hard.
Marcus staggered.
Vincent did not interfere.
“You stole my sister?”
“I was nineteen.”
“You stole a baby!”
“I was told the mother had abandoned her.”
Evelyn slammed both hands on the table.
She signed so violently Nora struggled to follow.
“She says she never abandoned Lily.”
Marcus nodded.
“I know that now.”
Vincent grabbed his collar.
“Then explain it now.”
Marcus’s voice became rough.
“Raymond ordered the transfer.”
Vincent froze.
“Uncle Raymond?”
Marcus nodded.
“He told me Evelyn was unstable. That the baby couldn’t remain in the family.”
Nora stared.
“What did Rebecca know?”
“Nothing at first.”
Marcus explained that Rebecca Ellis had lost a newborn child only days earlier.
A daughter.
The hospital told her the baby had died.
Raymond offered another infant through a private arrangement.
No questions.
No records.
Rebecca, broken by grief, accepted.
That infant was Lily.
Nora began shaking.
“So my mother raised someone else’s child because Raymond stole hers?”
Marcus looked at the ledger.
“Yes.”
Evelyn signed.
Nora translated.
“What happened to Rebecca’s baby?”
Marcus looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
Vincent released him.
Nora’s mind raced backward through childhood.
Rebecca’s fierce protectiveness.
Her fear of hospitals.
The locked box she kept beneath her bed.
The way she cried every year on Lily’s birthday when she thought no one noticed.
“She knew eventually,” Nora said.
Marcus looked at her.
“My mother knew Lily wasn’t hers.”
“How?”
“Because she used to say something strange.”
“What?”
Nora swallowed.
“She said, ‘I lost one daughter and was given another.’”
Evelyn covered her face.
Vincent looked at the ledger.
“Then Rebecca’s real daughter could still be alive.”
Nora felt the air leave her lungs.
“My sister.”
“Another sister,” Vincent said.
No one liked the sound of that.
Marcus turned pages.
Then stopped.
A name appeared.
INFANT ELLIS.
Transferred to:
CALDERO HOUSEHOLD B.
Vincent frowned.
“There was no Household B.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Yes, there was.”
“Whose?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Raymond’s.”
Nora stared.
Vincent’s face hardened.
“My uncle raised Rebecca’s daughter?”
“No.”
Marcus pointed at another notation.
PLACEMENT FAILED.
SECOND TRANSFER AUTHORIZED.
Destination:
BELLWEATHER.
Nora looked up.
“The restaurant?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Bellweather wasn’t always a restaurant.”
Evelyn signed.
Nora translated.
“It was an orphan boarding house.”
Silence settled.
Vincent looked toward Nora.
“How long has Paul owned Bellweather?”
“Fifteen years.”
“Before that?”
“His father.”
Marcus suddenly grabbed the black phone Paul had dropped during the shooting.
He powered it on.
One photograph filled the screen.
Nora.
Taken yesterday.
Walking home.
Below it was a message from an unknown sender.
SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHO SHE IS.
Nora’s heartbeat stopped.
Then another message appeared.
KEEP HER AT BELLWEATHER UNTIL RAYMOND ARRIVES.
Vincent looked at Nora.
“You weren’t working there by accident.”
Nora backed away.
“No.”
Marcus’s voice turned grim.
May you like
“Somebody put you there.”
And for the first time, Nora wondered whether Rebecca Ellis had ever truly been her mother at all.
