“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because this is something you need to hear in person.”
Maya looked at the letter.
“Aunt Claire, what are you talking about?”
Claire whispered:
“Your mother wasn't the only person who knew where Lily was.”
Maya's heart raced.
“Who else?”
Claire answered:
“Your father.”
Eleanor was the first person Maya told.
She found her mother sitting in the garden, pruning roses.
Eleanor looked up.
“You look pale.”
Maya handed her the letter.
Eleanor read it.
Her face changed.
“What does this mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Claire?”
“She says there was another child.”
Eleanor slowly lowered the paper.
“No.”
“You've heard that before?”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“I would remember.”
Maya sat beside her.
“Would you?”
Eleanor looked at her.
“What are you asking?”
“Could there have been another baby?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Eleanor's eyes filled with confusion.
“I gave birth to one child.”
Maya watched her carefully.
“Could there have been another pregnancy?”
Eleanor looked away.
Then she whispered:
“I was pregnant before you.”
Maya froze.
“What?”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“It was before you were born.”
“What happened?”
“I lost the baby.”
Maya felt a chill.
“Did Dad know?”
“Yes.”
“Did Rebecca know?”
“I don't know.”
“Was it a boy or girl?”
Eleanor's face tightened.
“A girl.”
Maya stared.
“Did she have a name?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Anna.”
Maya felt the room tilt.
“Anna Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“Then what does Claire mean by a second child?”
Eleanor looked at the letter again.
“I don't know.”
Maya stood.
“Then we need to find out.”
Claire arrived that evening.
She looked exhausted.
She carried a small suitcase.
Maya opened the door.
Claire walked inside without speaking.
Eleanor was waiting in the living room.
The three women sat together.
Claire placed the suitcase on the floor.
“I should have told you years ago.”
Maya said nothing.
Claire opened it.
Inside was another wooden box.
Smaller than Rebecca's.
Older.
Its surface was scratched.
There was no lock.
Claire lifted the lid.
Inside was a photograph.
A hospital record.
And a bracelet.
Maya stared.
The bracelet was almost identical to hers.
But instead of L.W., it said:
A.W.
Eleanor stood.
Her hands flew to her mouth.
“Anna.”
Claire nodded.
Maya looked between them.
“What is this?”
Eleanor picked up the bracelet.
“This belonged to my daughter.”
“I thought she died.”
“So did I.”
Claire looked down.
“She didn't.”
The room went silent.
Maya whispered:
“Then where is she?”
Claire looked at her.
“That is what Rebecca spent the last twenty-five years trying to discover.”
The photograph showed two babies.
Not one.
Two.
Maya leaned closer.
One baby had a crescent-shaped birthmark.
The other had a small dark mark near her wrist.
Eleanor stared at the photograph.
“That can't be.”
Claire said:
“It is.”
“But Anna was born before Lily.”
“Yes.”
“Years before.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are there two babies?”
Claire looked at Maya.
“Because the photograph was taken twenty-five years ago.”
Maya's heart stopped.
“What?”
Claire pointed at the babies.
“This is Lily.”
She pointed to the second.
“And this is Anna.”
Maya stared.
“But Anna was supposed to have died before I was born.”
Claire nodded.
“That was the story.”
“Who told you?”
“Rebecca.”
“Why would she lie?”
Claire looked at Eleanor.
“Because she was trying to protect both of you.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“No.”
Claire reached into the box.
She removed a folded document.
“This was found inside the private records room at the clinic.”
Daniel had never seen it.
Eleanor had never seen it.
Maya opened it.
At the top was a date.
Twenty-five years ago.
Below it was a handwritten note.
Twin infants transferred under private authorization.
Maya's eyes widened.
“Twins?”
Claire nodded.
“You and Anna were twins.”
Eleanor collapsed back into her chair.
“No.”
Maya looked at her mother.
“Mom?”
Eleanor stared at the paper.
“I didn't know.”
Claire whispered:
“That is exactly why Rebecca kept searching.”
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
The truth seemed too large to fit inside the room.
Maya and Anna.
Twins.
Separated before they were old enough to know each other.
One raised in Colorado.
The other believed dead.
But why?
Maya looked at Claire.
“Where is she?”
Claire shook her head.
“We don't know.”
“Then how do you know she survived?”
“Because of the records.”
“What records?”
“Rebecca found them.”
“Where?”
“In a second clinic.”
Maya stood.
“What second clinic?”
Claire hesitated.
“Saint Mary's.”
Daniel had been sitting quietly near the window.
He finally spoke.
“Saint Mary's Children's Center?”
Claire nodded.
“It was connected to the Whitmore foundation.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“How?”
“Charles funded it.”
Maya felt anger rise.
“So my grandfather was involved again.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
Claire looked at Eleanor.
“He separated the twins.”
Eleanor's face became pale.
“Why?”
“Because one child was connected to the family trust.”
Maya stared.
“And the other?”
“The other was used as leverage.”
“Leverage against whom?”
Claire answered:
“Your mother.”
The next morning, Maya called Daniel.
He arrived within an hour.
They placed every document on the dining table.
Daniel examined the photograph.
“This changes everything.”
Maya nodded.
“I know.”
He studied the hospital record.
“There are two patient numbers.”
“Can you trace them?”
“I can try.”
Eleanor sat quietly.
She had barely spoken since learning the truth.
Maya reached for her hand.
“Mom.”
Eleanor looked at her.
“I had two daughters.”
Maya nodded.
“Yes.”
“And I lost both.”