Chapter 8
Police searched the lake until nightfall.
They found the abandoned motorboat on the northern shore.
Margaret and Vanessa were gone.
So was the recorder.
Robert refused to speak.
Dr. Pierce asked for immunity.
Derek’s attorney continued negotiating.
Everyone wanted to trade a piece of the truth for freedom.
I was tired of waiting for criminals to decide how much justice I deserved.
When I returned to the apartment, a photograph had been pushed beneath the door.
It showed Derek and me on our wedding day.
A message was written across my white dress.
ASK YOUR HUSBAND ABOUT THE BABY.
I stared at the words.
There had been no baby.
Then I remembered Vanessa’s absence from our wedding.
Margaret said she had been traveling.
I called Derek’s attorney and demanded another meeting.
Derek looked frightened when I placed the photograph against the glass.
“What baby?”
His face went gray.
“Vanessa’s daughter.”
“I didn’t know she had a child.”
“She doesn’t anymore.”
He swallowed hard.
“When Vanessa was nineteen, she had a baby girl. Our father forced her to give the child away.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“The adoptive parents were friends of your grandmother.”
My pulse quickened.
“Why?”
“Evelyn helped Vanessa escape Robert. She arranged the adoption and hid the records.”
“So Vanessa wants the apartment because she thinks the adoption file is there.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I promised her.”
I laughed without humor.
“Your promises are strangely important when they protect your family.”
Derek looked down.
“What was the child’s name?” I asked.
“Grace.”
My mind raced through Grandma’s belongings.
She had kept photographs of every child she ever helped through her church.
One girl appeared more often than the others.
A dark-haired child named Grace Miller.
Grandma called her my little miracle.
I had attended Grace’s birthday parties until her family moved away.
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I swear.”
When I returned home, Ethan was waiting with Detective Torres.
I told them about Grace.
Ethan immediately remembered her.
“She came to Grandma’s funeral.”
“Vanessa may be trying to find her,” Torres said.
“Then why steal the recorder?”
“To trade it for the adoption file.”
My laptop chimed.
An email had arrived from Grandma’s old account.
The message had been scheduled years earlier, triggered by someone entering a password.
Claire, if this message reaches you, Grace is in danger.
A document was attached.
It revealed that Grace’s adoptive father had died.
Her adoptive mother had changed their names and moved them to Oregon after Robert began searching for the child.
The email contained a current address.
Vanessa must have found the password when she stole Grandma’s letter.
She knew where Grace lived.
Torres called Oregon authorities.
Then my phone received a video call.
Vanessa appeared on the screen.
Grace sat beside her in a motel room.
She was now twenty-two.
Terrified.
Margaret stood near the door holding the black recorder.
“Claire,” Vanessa said, “bring me the adoption file.”
“You found Grace. Why do you need it?”
“Because I need proof she is mine.”
“She isn’t property.”
“She’s my daughter!”
Grace flinched.
Vanessa looked at her, and something in her face softened.
Then Margaret grabbed Vanessa’s shoulder.
“Stop wasting time.”
Grace stared into the camera.
“Claire, don’t come.”
Margaret struck her.
Vanessa spun around.
“Don’t touch her!”
Margaret raised the recorder.
“Without this, Robert walks away from Evelyn’s murder.”
She gave me an address.
“Bring the file by sunrise, or I destroy the evidence.”
The call ended.
Ethan looked at me.
“We don’t have the adoption file.”
I opened Grandma’s metal box and removed the false bottom I had noticed earlier.
Beneath it was a thin folder.
May you like
Grace Hale—Confidential Adoption.
“We do,” I said.
