CHAPTER 4 — THE SECRET MY MOTHER USED AGAINST MY WIFE
Nobody spoke.
Angela Hart stood on the other side of the hotel door.
We could hear her breathing.
I could hear Sue crying behind me.
Marcus kept one hand near his phone.
“Step away from the door,” he whispered.
I did.
Then Marcus called hotel security.
Angela didn't move.
She simply waited.
“Mr. Hayes,” she said through the door.
“I know you can hear me.”
I didn't answer.
“Your mother told you that your wife was unstable.”
Silence.
“She lied.”
Sue covered her mouth.
Angela continued.
“But she didn't invent everything.”
My stomach tightened.
Marcus looked at me.
We both understood.
There was a second layer.
Something about Sue's past.
Something my mother had discovered.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My name is Angela Hart.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
She sounded tired.
“I worked for Hartwell Family Services.”
“Why were you accessing my wife's medical records?”
“I was following instructions.”
“Whose?”
Silence.
Then:
“Your mother.”
My fists clenched.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted documentation.”
“Documentation of what?”
“That Sue was dangerous.”
Sue began shaking.
Angela's voice softened.
“She wasn't.”
“Then why?”
“Because your mother believed Sue would leave with the baby.”
I stared at the door.
“Why would she think that?”
“Because she believed the baby wasn't legally hers.”
I felt the world stop.
“What?”
Marcus stepped closer.
“Explain.”
Angela said,
“Your mother believed Sue had concealed something about the child's birth.”
I looked at my wife.
Sue's face had gone completely white.
I whispered,
“Sue?”
She didn't answer.
“Sue, look at me.”
Slowly, she did.
“What is she talking about?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I don't know.”
Angela spoke again.
“She does.”
Sue closed her eyes.
I felt betrayed.
Not because I knew she was hiding something.
Because I suddenly realized she had been afraid of my mother for reasons I didn't understand.
I turned toward the door.
“Open it.”
Marcus grabbed my arm.
“No.”
“We need answers.”
“We need police.”
The hotel security team arrived.
Two guards escorted Angela away from the door.
She didn't resist.
Before leaving, she looked directly at me.
“I can prove your mother lied.”
Then she looked at Sue.
“But I can also prove Sue has been hiding something.”
The door closed.
Sue sat on the bed.
I stood across from her.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
“What happened before you met me?”
Sue wiped her face.
“Nothing.”
“That's not true.”
She looked down.
“I didn't know how to tell you.”
“Tell me now.”
She shook her head.
“I was scared.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“My mother.”
I stared.
“Your mother?”
Sue nodded.
“She died when I was twenty.”
I had known that.
But she had never spoken about her much.
“What does your mother have to do with this?”
Sue swallowed.
“She wasn't my biological mother.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She raised me.”
“Who was your biological mother?”
“I don't know.”
The room became silent.
Marcus looked at me.
Sue continued.
“I was adopted.”
My mind raced.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was ashamed.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't know who I was.”
I sat down.
“You're my wife.”
“I know.”
“You're the mother of my child.”
“I know.”
“Why would any of that matter?”
“Because your mother found my adoption records.”
I looked up.
“What?”
Sue nodded.
“She told me she had investigated me.”
“What did she find?”
“I don't know.”
“That's not an answer.”
“She never showed me everything.”
“What did she tell you?”
Sue's hands trembled.
“She said my biological family had a criminal history.”
I stared.
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I didn't know what to believe.”
I stood.
“And you never told me?”
“I was afraid you'd leave.”
I closed my eyes.
The cruelest part was that I understood.
Not because what she had done was right.
But because I had seen how fear could make someone hide the truth.
My wife had been afraid of my mother.
My mother had used that fear.
And I had been caught in the middle.
I sat beside Sue.
“Did my mother threaten you with this?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She said if I ever told you about the adoption, she'd show you documents.”
“What documents?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at Marcus.
He said,
“We need the records.”
I nodded.
Then we heard a knock.
This time it was the police.
Angela Hart had agreed to speak with them.
We went downstairs.
Angela sat in a conference room.
A detective was taking notes.
She looked at me.
“I owe you an explanation.”
“You do.”
“I was hired by Hartwell.”
“By my mother?”
“Initially.”
“Why?”
“To investigate Sue.”
“What did you find?”
Angela hesitated.
“Nothing that justified what your mother did.”
I waited.
“But I found something else.”
“What?”
“Your mother had ordered a background investigation before your daughter was born.”
“Why?”
“She believed Sue was hiding her identity.”
I looked at Sue.
Angela continued.
“She wasn't wrong about the identity.”
Sue's face fell.
“What does that mean?”
Angela opened a folder.
“Your wife was adopted at six months old.”
Sue nodded.
“Yes.”
“The adoption agency no longer exists.”
“I know.”
“The records were sealed.”
“Yes.”
“But someone opened them.”
Sue whispered,
“Who?”
Angela looked at me.
“Your mother.”
My mother had gone through sealed adoption records.
“How?”
“We don't know.”
“What did she find?”
Angela opened another document.
“There was a second birth certificate.”
Sue stared.
“What?”
Angela placed a copy on the table.
The document listed Sue's birth mother.
The name meant nothing to me.
But the date did.
It was the same date Sue had always told me was her birthday.
I looked at the record.
Then at Sue.
“What does this mean?”
Angela answered.
“It means the adoption wasn't the first record.”
Sue's breathing stopped.
“What?”
Angela continued.
“Your wife's original birth record lists a different surname.”
“What surname?”
Angela looked at her.
“Hayes.”
My blood went cold.
I stared at Sue.
My own surname.
Impossible.
Marcus immediately asked,
“Are you saying Sue was born with Daniel's surname?”
“No.”
Angela shook her head.
“Not your surname.”
She pointed to the record.
“Another Hayes family.”
I looked closer.
The mother's name.
The father's name.
Then the hospital.
A hospital I recognized.
The same hospital where my daughter had been born.
My stomach dropped.
“That can't be.”
Angela nodded.
“That's why your mother became obsessed.”
I looked at Sue.
She was crying.
“What does my birth have to do with my daughter?”
Angela's expression changed.
“We don't know yet.”
Then she placed another document on the table.
A hospital record.
The baby's name was redacted.
But the mother's name was visible.
SUE HAYES.
The date was nine months before our daughter's birth.
I stared at it.
“That date is wrong.”
Angela shook her head.
“No.”
She placed another page beside it.
A medical billing record.
A prenatal appointment.
Then another.
Then another.
Sue stared at the documents.
“I wasn't pregnant.”
Angela looked at her.
“The records say you were.”
“I wasn't.”
I looked at Sue.
She was telling the truth.
I knew her.
I knew the pregnancy.
I had been there.
I had gone to every appointment.
I had watched our daughter grow inside her.
The dates couldn't be right.
Then Marcus noticed something.
“Wait.”
He pointed to the provider code.
“This isn't Sue's medical file.”
Angela looked.
“No.”
“It belongs to another patient.”
“Who?”
Angela flipped the page.
The name was almost completely blacked out.
Only one word remained visible.
MORGAN.
Sue whispered,
“That's my mother's maiden name.”
I looked at her.
She stared at the document.
Then suddenly she remembered something.
“My mother had a sister.”
“What?”
“She never talked about her.”
“Who was she?”
“I don't know.”
Angela looked at the folder.
“She was the biological mother.”
Silence.
Sue's face collapsed.
“What?”
Angela turned the page.
“Your mother wasn't your biological mother.”
She looked at Sue.
“Your biological mother was her sister.”
Sue began crying.
I reached for her hand.
But she pulled away.
Not from me.
From the truth.
Her entire identity had just cracked open.
Angela continued.
“And your biological mother died under suspicious circumstances.”
I looked at her.
“How?”
“Officially? An accident.”
“Officially?”
“She fell from a bridge.”
Sue covered her mouth.
“My mother told me she died of an illness.”
Angela shook her head.
“She lied.”
My heart pounded.
“What does this have to do with my mother?”
Angela looked at me.
“Your mother knew her.”
“How?”
“They worked together.”
The room went silent.
I stared at Angela.
“Worked together doing what?”
Angela's answer was barely audible.
“Child placement.”
Sue looked up.
“What?”
Angela continued.
“Your mother wasn't simply investigating your background.”
“She had been connected to the organization that handled your adoption.”
I felt sick.
My mother had not randomly chosen Sue.
She had known her before I ever met her.
Perhaps before Sue even knew who she was.
And then another question entered my mind.
Why?
Why had my mother paid $1,500 every month to care for the woman she had secretly investigated?
Why had she isolated Sue?
Why had she built a fake medical case?
Why had she threatened custody?
The answer came from Angela.
“Your mother wasn't trying to destroy Sue.”
I stared.
“Then what was she doing?”
Angela looked at Sue.
“She was trying to make sure Sue never discovered where she came from.”
I felt a chill.
“Why?”
Angela opened the final document.
At the top was a name.
HARTWELL CHILD SERVICES — CONFIDENTIAL
Underneath:
CASE 417
And beneath that:
CHILD: FEMALE
AGE: SIX MONTHS
BIOLOGICAL MOTHER: DECEASED
PLACEMENT AUTHORIZED BY: MARTHA HAYES
My mother's name.
Sue stared at the page.
Her lips parted.
“No…”
I looked at her.
She whispered,
“My mother didn't adopt me.”
Angela nodded.
“She placed you.”
Sue began shaking.
“Why?”
Angela looked at me.
“Because your mother knew your biological mother was trying to expose something.”
“What?”
Angela's face became grim.
“She had discovered that children were being moved through private adoption networks under false identities.”
I stared at the document.
“And Sue was one of them.”
Angela nodded.
“Yes.”
The room became silent.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message.
From my mother.
NOW YOU KNOW WHY I TOLD YOU NOT TO TRUST HER.
Another message appeared.
BUT YOU STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER CHILD.
I stared at the screen.
Then a third message arrived.
ASK SUE WHAT SHE REMEMBERS ABOUT THE RED BLANKET.
Sue suddenly went completely still.
I looked at her.
“What red blanket?”
She didn't answer.
Her face had lost all color.
I stepped closer.
“Sue?”
She whispered one sentence.
“I remember a room.”
“What room?”
“A hospital.”
“And?”
May you like
She looked at me.
“There was another baby.”
