Chương 6
Then her breath stopped.
It showed her father standing outside the Carter property.
Beside him was Rachel.
And beside Rachel was another person.
A person Emma recognized immediately.
Margaret gasped when she saw the screen.
Because the person standing next to Rachel was someone they never expected to see.
Someone who was supposed to have known nothing.
Emma looked at David.
Then at Margaret.
Then back at the photograph.
Her voice came out as a whisper.
"That's my mother."
Should Emma confront her mother’s hidden past or search for the old lawyer first?
"That's my mother."
Emma's voice barely escaped her throat.
She stared at the photograph on the phone screen, unable to understand what she was seeing.
Her mother, the woman who had raised her, was standing beside Rachel.
The same Rachel who was supposed to have disappeared before Emma was old enough to remember.
The same Rachel whose existence had been hidden behind decades of silence.
David looked over her shoulder.
His face lost all color.
"That can't be your mother."
Emma looked at him.
"But it is."
She zoomed in on the photograph.
The image was old and slightly faded, but there was no mistake.
Her mother's face was younger.
Her hair was different.
But the eyes were the same.
The eyes Emma had looked into every morning of her childhood.
Margaret slowly sat down.
She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
"I didn't know she had been there."
Emma turned toward her.
"You knew my mother knew about Rachel."
Margaret looked away.
"I knew she was involved."
"Involved how?"
Margaret struggled to find the right words.
"Your mother was the only person who tried to help Rachel."
Emma froze.
"Then why did she never tell me?"
Margaret looked at the photograph.
"Because she made a promise."
"To who?"
"To Rachel."
The answer made Emma angry.
Everyone had promises.
Everyone had reasons.
Everyone had secrets.
But Emma was the one who had spent her entire life without the truth.
"Everyone keeps saying they were protecting me," Emma said.
Her voice shook.
"But nobody ever asked what it would feel like to find out the people I trusted were making choices about my life without me."
Nobody answered.
Because nobody could argue with that.
David moved closer.
"I know this hurts."
Emma looked at him.
"Do you?"
He stopped.
The question hurt him because he knew he did not.
He had not lost his history.
He had not discovered that his own name and memories were connected to a secret.
Emma looked back at the photograph.
"Why would my mother stand with Rachel?"
Margaret took a deep breath.
"Because your mother knew what happened was wrong."
"What happened?"
Margaret hesitated.
"The night Rachel disappeared."
Emma's heart tightened.
"What happened that night?"
Margaret looked toward the front door.
Almost as if she expected someone to walk in.
"Rachel was supposed to leave town alone."
"Supposed to?"
Margaret nodded.
"But she didn't."
Emma stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
"Your mother found her."
David frowned.
"Found her where?"
"At the old Carter property."
The answer made the photograph suddenly more important.
Emma looked again.
The picture had been taken outside that same house.
The house where Margaret said the caller found the box.
The house where so many secrets had been buried.
"Why was my mother there?"
Margaret looked at Emma.
"Because she knew Rachel had been lied to."
Emma felt a cold wave move through her.
"About what?"
Margaret's voice became quiet.
"About the baby."
Emma looked at Lily.
Her daughter was still on the blanket, unaware of the storm surrounding her family.
"What lie?"
Margaret swallowed.
"Rachel was told that you had died."
Emma stopped breathing.
The room went completely silent.
David looked shocked.
"No."
Margaret nodded.
"Your grandfather wanted Rachel to believe she had lost you."
Emma's hands started shaking.
"My mother thought I was dead?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Margaret looked devastated.
"Because someone made sure she received false information."
Emma felt tears running down her face.
She had spent years wondering why she never knew her birth mother.
She had imagined many possibilities.
But she never imagined this.
She never imagined a mother searching for a child she believed was gone.
"Then my mother found out the truth?"
Margaret nodded.
"She discovered you were alive."
Emma whispered.
"And she didn't tell me."
Margaret closed her eyes.
"She was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of losing you."
Emma looked confused.
"How could she lose me?"
Margaret's voice softened.
"Because Rachel wanted you back."
The words created a silence that felt impossible to escape.
Emma looked at the photograph again.
Two women.
Two mothers.
One child.
A lifetime of hidden pain.
"Did they fight over me?"
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
"Then what happened?"
"They made an agreement."
Emma frowned.
"What agreement?"
"Rachel wanted you to know the truth someday."
Margaret looked at the letter.
"Your mother wanted you to have a normal life."
Emma laughed quietly through her tears.
"Normal?"
The word sounded almost painful.
"Was any of this normal?"
Margaret lowered her eyes.
"No."
David looked at the photograph.
"Then why did Rachel leave?"
Margaret hesitated.
"Because she believed someone was watching her."
Emma looked up.
"Who?"
Margaret did not answer.
The silence returned.
And Emma realized the same thing she had realized before.
Everyone knew more than they were saying.
"Margaret."
The older woman looked at her.
"I need you to stop protecting everyone except me."
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
"I am sorry."
"No."
Emma shook her head.
"I need the truth."
Margaret nodded slowly.
"Then you need to know about the night your father died."
Emma froze.
"What does my father's death have to do with Rachel?"
Margaret looked toward the old photograph.
"Everything."
David stepped forward.
"Mom."
Margaret looked at him.
"I didn't want to tell her this way."
Emma felt her chest tighten.
"What happened?"
May you like
Margaret took a shaky breath.
"Your father was not just trying to tell you about Rachel."
