Chapter 6 - A Name Buried for Six Years)
Margaret finally agreed to speak.
Not because the police threatened her.
Not because Claire begged.
Because Lily sent her a drawing.
The therapist suggested it.
Lily had drawn three women.
Rebecca.
Margaret.
Claire.
They stood beneath a large yellow sun.
At the bottom Lily had written a sentence in uneven letters.
I still love you but I need the truth.
Margaret cried when she saw it.
Then she requested Detective Reed.
Claire watched the interview through one way glass.
Margaret looked smaller than she had at Greenway Market.
Her hair was loose.
Her shoulders bent.
She no longer looked like a woman controlling a secret.
She looked like someone the secret had finally defeated.
Reed placed a recorder on the table.
Where is Samuel Voss?
I don't know.
You entered his house Tuesday night.
Yes.
Why?
He called me.
What did he want?
Lily.
Claire leaned toward the glass.
Reed asked.
Explain.
Margaret rubbed her hands together.
He knew Rebecca left evidence. He wanted to know what Lily remembered.
Did he threaten the child?
Not directly.
What does that mean?
He said children are fragile and memories can be corrected.
Reed's expression hardened.
What happened inside his house?
We argued.
About what?
I told him I was done protecting him.
What did he say?
Margaret looked toward the one way glass as though she knew Claire was there.
He said I was never protecting him.
I was protecting myself.
Was he right?
Margaret's eyes filled.
Partly.
Reed waited.
Finally Margaret spoke.
Rebecca's daughter was stillborn at 1:48 in the morning. Rebecca started hemorrhaging. They sedated her. I thought I was going to lose both of them.
She wiped her face.
I had spent months watching Rebecca fall apart. Her husband had left after the second miscarriage. She sold her house to pay medical bills. That baby was the only thing she believed she had left.
Then the baby died.
Margaret closed her eyes.
I went into the corridor. Dr. Voss found me.
What did he say?
He said another infant had been born with severe cardiac complications.
Emma?
Yes.
He said she probably wouldn't survive.
Probably?
Margaret nodded.
He told me Rebecca didn't need to know her baby was dead yet. He said there were ways to delay telling her.
Did he suggest switching the children?
No.
Not then.
Claire barely breathed.
Margaret continued.
About twenty minutes later there was an alarm.
Fire alarm?
Yes.
Someone had triggered smoke detectors in the laundry area. Doors opened automatically. Staff moved patients. The cameras on the third floor stopped recording for eight minutes.
Reed leaned closer.
Who caused the alarm?
Margaret swallowed.
Victor Sloane.
Claire closed her eyes.
The red tie man.
Why?
I don't know.
You expect me to believe he disabled surveillance during a maternity emergency by accident?
No.
Then why?
Margaret looked exhausted.
Because that night was not the first time.
Silence.
Reed's voice lowered.
Not the first time what?
A baby's identity had been changed.
Claire's stomach turned.
Margaret explained.
Voss knew families.
Rich families.
Desperate families.
People willing to pay for private adoptions that could never pass legal scrutiny.
Sometimes the biological mothers were undocumented.
Sometimes addicted.
Sometimes teenagers whose parents wanted everything erased.
Voss arranged paperwork.
Sloane controlled security.
A woman in records altered birth entries.
You?
Not originally.
Who?
Margaret hesitated.
Evelyn Price.
Claire recognized the name.
A nurse had signed one of Emma's discharge documents.
Where is Evelyn Price?
Dead.
When?
Five years ago.
Car accident.
Reed wrote something down.
How did you become involved?
Evelyn was absent that night. Her husband had been hospitalized. Voss needed someone who knew the records system.
So he asked you.
Margaret nodded.
And you agreed.
Not immediately.
What changed?
Voss showed me Emma.
Claire gripped the edge of the counter beneath the glass.
Margaret's voice cracked.
She was pink. Breathing. Awake.
Claire began crying silently.
He lied when he said she was dying.
Yes.
Why?
Because he knew what I wanted.
A baby for Rebecca.
Margaret covered her face.
He told me Emma's parents had signed a do not resuscitate order.
That's a lie.
I know.
He told me they didn't want a disabled child.
Claire made a sound of disbelief.
Reed looked toward the glass.
Margaret continued.
He said Emma would end up in foster care if she survived. He said Rebecca could give her a home.
And you believed him.
I wanted to.
That was worse.
Margaret had not simply been deceived.
She had chosen the version of reality that allowed her to take another woman's child.
What happened next?
During the alarm, Voss moved Emma into Room 314.
He switched the bassinet tags.
I altered the electronic record.
Sloane removed part of the camera archive.
And Rebecca's dead baby?
Margaret's lips trembled.
She became Emma Whitmore.
Claire turned away.
Even knowing it intellectually did not prepare her for the sentence.
The baby inside the sealed casket had been Rebecca's child.
A child whose mother never knew where she was buried.
Reed asked.
What was Rebecca's daughter named?
Margaret whispered.
Sophie.
Claire pressed both hands over her mouth.
Sophie Hale had spent six years beneath a stone engraved Emma Rose Whitmore.
And Emma had grown up believing she was Lily Hale.
Two little girls.
Both denied their names.
Reed continued.
Why did Voss help you without payment?
Margaret shook her head.
He didn't.
Who paid?
Victor Sloane.
Why?
I never knew.
Reed slid a photograph across the table.
Daniel.
Was Daniel Whitmore involved?
Margaret looked at the photograph.
No.
Claire almost collapsed with relief.
Then why did Rebecca write his name?
Margaret breathed deeply.
Because Daniel's security report made everything possible.
He identified every blind spot.
Every automatic door.
Every point where cameras failed to overlap.
Did Daniel know?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Reed stared at her.
Margaret added.
But someone at his company did.
Claire's relief vanished again.
Who?
A consultant who worked with Daniel.
Name.
Margaret looked toward the glass.
Claire saw fear return.
Thomas Whitmore.
Claire's mind went blank.
Daniel's older brother.
Thomas.
The man who had attended Emma's memorial.
The man who held Daniel while he cried beside the empty casket.
The man who had moved to Seattle two months later and rarely visited.
Reed leaned forward.
What did Thomas Whitmore do?
Margaret whispered.
He sold the security report to Victor Sloane.
Why?
Money.
How much?
I don't know.
Did he know Emma would be taken?
Margaret paused too long.
Claire's heart stopped.
Margaret looked toward the one way glass.
He knew a baby would be moved that night.
Reed's voice sharpened.
Did he know it would be his niece?
Margaret shook her head.
I don't think so.
You don't think so.
Voss was the only one who could answer that.
Where is he?
Margaret looked down.
When I left his house, he was alive.
Was anyone else there?
No.
Are you certain?
Margaret's breathing changed.
Reed noticed.
Who else was there?
She whispered.
I didn't see him.
Hear him?
Yes.
Who?
Margaret looked terrified.
A man upstairs.
What did Voss call him?
He didn't use a name.
Then what did you hear?
May you like
Margaret closed her eyes.
Voss said, You should have stayed dead.
