Chapter 6 - The Woman in the Photograph
For several seconds, Logan could not move.
The photograph trembled between his fingers.
A hospital room.
A younger Robert Wright.
A newborn baby wrapped in a white blanket.
And behind them stood a woman.
Joanna stared at the image.
She knew that face.
Not because she had met the woman recently.
Because she had seen her in a single childhood photograph that her mother had kept hidden inside an old Bible.
Clara Bell.
Her mother.
But Clara was much younger in the photograph.
Her hair was longer.
Her face was fuller.
And she was standing beside another woman.
A nurse.
Evelyn Harper.
Joanna looked at the photograph again.
“No.”
Logan glanced at her.
“What?”
“That woman.”
She pointed to the figure beside Clara.
“She was with my mother.”
Rebecca took the photograph and enlarged it.
“The woman is definitely Evelyn Harper.”
Evelyn, the woman who had spent thirty-two years believing her son had died.
The woman who was sitting with them only a few rooms away.
Joanna felt a chill move through her.
“How could they all have been there?”
Rebecca answered carefully.
“We don't know yet.”
“Then find out.”
Logan stared at the baby in the photograph.
The newborn looked peaceful.
Nothing like the frightened image Joanna had built inside her head over the past several days.
“That was me,” he whispered.
Joanna looked at him.
“Probably.”
“What does that mean?”
“The photograph may have been staged around the time of your transfer.”
Rebecca examined the back of the image.
There was no date.
Only handwriting.
She read it aloud.
“The truth has two witnesses. One was silenced. One was erased.”
Joanna's stomach tightened.
“Who was silenced?”
“Maybe Clara.”
“And who was erased?”
“Maybe Evelyn.”
Logan stood.
“I want to ask her.”
They returned to the hospital room where Evelyn sat beside Noah.
She looked up when they entered.
“What happened?”
Joanna handed her the photograph.
Evelyn stared.
The color disappeared from her face.
“I've seen this.”
Joanna sat beside her.
“When?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I don't remember.”
“Try.”
She closed her eyes.
“I was young.”
“I had just given birth.”
“I remember Dr. Wright coming to the nursery.”
“He said there was a problem.”
“What problem?”
Evelyn's breathing became faster.
“My baby had been moved.”
“To another room.”
“I asked why.”
“He told me the child was sick.”
Joanna held her hand.
“Were you alone?”
“No.”
Evelyn opened her eyes.
“Clara was there.”
Joanna froze.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“She worked in the nursery that night.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me not to trust Dr. Wright.”
Silence.
Evelyn's eyes filled.
“And then?”
“Someone called her away.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you see the woman in the photograph?”
“Yes.”
“That was Clara.”
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“She tried to stop something.”
“What?”
Evelyn looked toward Noah.
“The baby transfers.”
Joanna's heart pounded.
“Do you remember anything else?”
Evelyn stared into space.
Then she whispered:
“There was a silver box.”
“What box?”
“Dr. Wright had one.”
“Where?”
“Under his desk.”
“Did you ever see inside?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“But Clara did.”
Joanna looked at Rebecca.
“The archive.”
Rebecca immediately understood.
“The silver box may have contained the original transfer records.”
“Where is it?”
Evelyn looked frightened.
“Clara took it.”
Joanna stopped.
“My mother stole evidence from Robert?”
“Yes.”
“And then disappeared.”
“Yes.”
The pieces were finally beginning to fit.
Clara had discovered the baby-switching operation.
Evelyn tried to report it.
Robert silenced the records.
Clara took evidence.
Then she disappeared.
Joanna had spent twenty-nine years believing Clara was dead.
But she had actually been running from the people who wanted the evidence.
Logan sat beside Joanna.
“What about the woman in the photograph?”
Evelyn looked at them.
“She was Dr. Wright's assistant.”
“Her name?”
Evelyn frowned.
“Margaret.”
“Margaret what?”
“I don't remember.”
Rebecca searched the hospital employment database.
There were seventeen former employees named Margaret.
But only one had worked in maternity services that year.
Margaret Vale.
Joanna felt the same cold certainty she had felt when she first saw Robert Wright's name.
“This woman knows something.”
Rebecca nodded.
“We find her.”
They found Margaret Vale living in a retirement community six hours away.
She agreed to meet.
When Joanna showed her the photograph, Margaret began crying.
“I wondered when someone would finally come.”
Joanna stared.
“You knew?”
“I knew everything.”
“Then why didn't you speak?”
Margaret shook her head.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Robert?”
“Of everyone.”
She told them the truth.
Robert was not the mastermind.
He was a desperate participant.
The true organizer was George Wright.
His older brother.
George had created the network.
He controlled the money.
Robert handled the medical records.
Margaret handled the paperwork.
Victor Lang handled the adoption placements.
Daniel Mercer handled the finances.
And Clara had discovered all of them.
Joanna felt sick.
“Where is George?”
Margaret's eyes moved toward Logan.
“Closer than you think.”
Logan frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret answered:
“George has been watching your family for years.”
“From where?”
Margaret's lips trembled.
“From the foundation.”
Joanna froze.
Their foundation.
The same foundation they had created to help families.
The organization had admitted a major donor six months earlier.
An anonymous donor.
A donor who had demanded no recognition.
A donor who had contributed millions.
Joanna suddenly understood.
May you like
Someone had bought access.
Someone had been watching from inside their own charity.
