Chapter 9 - THE CHILD WITHOUT A NAME
Twenty-one years earlier, Whitmore Holdings operated a private adoption charity.
At least on paper.
In reality, money moved through it.
Children did too.
Illegal adoptions.
Falsified birth certificates.
Payments from wealthy families.
My mother discovered the records.
One file was different.
A baby girl.
No legal surrender.
No adoption authorization.
The biological mother had been told her child died shortly after birth.
The baby was then transferred to another family.
“Who?”
I asked.
Evelyn looked at Dad.
Dad looked confused.
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn removed a folded photocopy from her bag.
“I found this after Rebecca died.”
The original record contained only an identification number.
But there was a handwritten note.
C.W. APPROVED.
Charles Whitmore.
“What happened to the baby?”
“We never knew.”
Until now.
Agent Reed cross-referenced the old records.
The child had been born thirty-four years earlier.
The same year I was born.
My skin prickled.
“No.”
Dad stared at me.
“No.”
Reed looked uncomfortable.
“There’s more.”
My birth certificate had been amended.
Six weeks after my birth.
Dad stood.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we need DNA testing.”
Dad’s face turned white.
I could barely breathe.
“My mother was my mother.”
“Yes.”
Reed nodded.
“That’s not in question.”
“But Thomas may not be your biological father.”
The room disappeared around me.
Dad sat down.
He looked devastated.
I grabbed his hand.
“You’re my father.”
His eyes filled.
“Claire.”
“I don’t care what DNA says.”
He squeezed my hand.
Neither of us let go.
The results arrived forty-eight hours later.
Thomas Bennett was not my biological father.
Rebecca Bennett was my biological mother.
My biological father was—
Charles Whitmore.
I vomited.
Daniel was my half brother.
My husband.
The marriage had been built on a horror none of us understood.
Dad nearly killed Charles when he learned.
Agent Reed stopped him.
Evelyn cried.
I felt hollow.
Then another truth emerged.
Daniel had known.
Not when we met.
But before we married.
Michael admitted Charles told him.
Daniel went through with the wedding anyway.
Because marrying me gave him legal access to anything I inherited from Rebecca.
The ledger.
The evidence.
Everything.
When I confronted Daniel through the jail visitation glass, he looked almost amused.
“You knew.”
He shrugged.
“Biology is paperwork.”
“You knew Charles was my father.”
“Yes.”
“And you married me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes hardened.
“Because your mother stole something from my family.”
I leaned toward the glass.
“No.”
“She exposed your family.”
Daniel smiled.
“Same difference.”
I stood.
He called after me.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
“You think you found everything?”
I turned.
Daniel leaned closer.
“You haven’t.”
“What else is there?”
May you like
His smile disappeared.
“Ask your father what happened the night Rebecca died.”
