Chapter 3 - The Empty Coffin)
Margaret remembered the coffin.
She remembered every inch of it.
Small.
White.
Covered in flowers she had not chosen because she had been too sedated to speak when Thomas arranged the funeral.
She remembered asking to see her daughter.
Thomas told her the hospital had advised against it.
The fire had been too severe.
There was nothing a mother should have to see.
Margaret had believed him because she loved him.
Or perhaps because grief had destroyed her ability to imagine another possibility.
For twenty two years she had visited that grave.
Every birthday.
Every Christmas Eve.
Every anniversary of the fire.
She had spoken to dirt.
Now she stood in a restaurant staring at evidence that the coffin might have contained nothing at all.
"Why?" Margaret whispered.
Thomas remained silent.
Michael pulled out a chair.
"Mrs. Ashford, there are things I know and things I only suspect."
Margaret looked at him.
"Tell me everything."
Thomas interrupted.
"Not here."
Margaret turned.
"There is nowhere on Earth you can take me now where this conversation becomes private."
Emily remained seated.
Her hands were cold.
Daniel brought a glass of water and placed it beside her.
She did not touch it.
Michael began.
"The fire started at approximately one forty seven in the morning. Electrical fault in a storage area. Smoke reached maternity before flames did. Staff started moving newborns."
Margaret closed her eyes.
"I remember the alarms."
"Evelyn Price took your daughter from the nursery because the main corridor was blocked."
Michael laid another photograph on the table.
It showed the damaged hospital exterior.
"I was part of the second emergency team. Evelyn came down the west stairwell carrying two infants."
"Two?"
"One was your daughter."
Margaret looked at Thomas.
He had stopped denying it.
That frightened her more than his earlier anger.
Michael continued.
"Both babies were alive when they reached the temporary treatment station."
"Then why was I told she died?"
"Because later that night I saw Thomas speaking to a hospital administrator and a private ambulance driver."
Thomas gave a bitter smile.
"You saw men talking during a hospital disaster. Remarkable evidence."
Michael ignored him.
"I heard the name Ashford. I remembered it because reporters were already outside."
Emily leaned forward.
"What happened to the baby?"
Michael looked at her.
"She was moved."
"Where?"
"I didn't know."
Emily's voice cracked.
"For twenty two years?"
"I tried."
She stood.
"Not hard enough."
Margaret touched her arm.
Emily pulled away.
"I grew up thinking I was nobody."
Michael accepted the accusation without defending himself.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
Emily's eyes filled.
"You don't know what it is like to fill out a school form and leave your family medical history blank. You don't know what it is like to look at every woman in a grocery store and wonder whether she has your eyes."
Margaret began crying again.
Emily saw her and immediately regretted the words.
Michael looked down.
"Evelyn tried harder than I did."
He removed a small notebook.
"She kept records."
Thomas moved again.
This time Daniel positioned himself between Thomas and the table.
Michael opened the notebook.
"Evelyn discovered that your daughter's official death certificate was filed twelve hours after the fire."
Margaret whispered, "Thomas handled the paperwork."
Michael nodded.
"The attending physician listed on the certificate wasn't in the hospital that night."
Thomas said, "This is absurd."
Michael looked directly at him.
"The doctor admitted it before he died."
Silence.
Emily asked, "Why would anyone do that?"
Michael turned toward Margaret.
"Money."
Margaret frowned.
Thomas closed his eyes.
Michael continued.
"Three months before the fire, Margaret's mother changed her estate."
Margaret froze.
"My mother?"
"Your daughter was named beneficiary of thirty percent of the family trust."
Margaret stared at Thomas.
Thomas looked toward the floor.
The room began to make sense in the most horrible possible way.
Margaret's mother, Eleanor Whitmore, had never trusted Thomas.
She had told Margaret so openly.
She believed Thomas cared too much about status and too little about anything that could not be measured financially.
When Margaret became pregnant, Eleanor had created a trust for her grandchild.
If the child survived, control of those assets would eventually belong to the child.
If the child died before reaching adulthood, the assets returned to a family holding company controlled jointly by Margaret and her husband.
Margaret whispered, "You knew."
Thomas finally looked at her.
"Your mother was trying to destroy our marriage."
"You knew."
"She hated me."
"Did you know our daughter was alive?"
Thomas's face remained still.
Margaret stepped closer.
"Answer me."
Thomas's silence lasted three seconds.
It destroyed thirty years of marriage.
"Yes."
Margaret struck him.
The sound cracked through the dining room.
Thomas did not move.
Emily stared.
Margaret's hand trembled at her side.
"You knew."
Thomas touched his cheek.
"I knew she survived the fire."
Margaret made a choking sound.
"Where did you send her?"
Thomas hesitated.
"Margaret."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Emily stood.
"That's a lie."
Thomas looked at her.
Emily moved closer.
"You looked at me tonight like you knew exactly who I was."
His eyes shifted.
There it was again.
Fear.
Emily said, "You recognize me."
Thomas whispered, "I recognize the pendant."
"Then tell me where I came from."
Thomas looked toward the window.
The black car remained outside.
Michael's expression changed.
"Thomas, whose car is that?"
No one answered.
Daniel said, "It arrived before Mr. Reed did."
Michael frowned.
"That's not mine."
Emily felt the hairs rise on her arms.
Thomas suddenly reached into his pocket.
Daniel moved toward him.
Thomas pulled out his phone.
On the screen was a message.
Emily saw only six words before Thomas turned it away.
The girl has been confirmed.
Thomas looked up.
May you like
And for the first time that night, Emily understood something worse.
Thomas was not the only person who had spent twenty two years making sure she stayed lost.
