Chapter 9 - THE WOMAN REBECCA CALLED HER SISTER
Laura flew to Briarwood immediately.
She met Andrew in a secure interview room.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Andrew placed a photograph of Rebecca on the table.
Laura began crying.
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Natalie asked.
“My mother had another baby.”
Laura explained that when she was eleven, she overheard arguments between her parents.
References to “the first daughter.”
A baby born when Laura’s mother was seventeen.
She had been told the child died.
No name.
No grave.
No certificate Laura could ever locate.
Years later, when Rebecca contacted her about Grace, Laura sensed something familiar.
The eyes.
The gestures.
The way Rebecca tilted her head when suspicious.
But she never imagined they were related.
DNA results confirmed it two days later.
Rebecca Parker and Laura Bennett were biological sisters.
Which meant Rebecca herself may have been one of Hawthorne’s earliest stolen children.
The investigation suddenly stretched decades backward.
Andrew looked destroyed.
“Rebecca spent years uncovering stolen babies without knowing she was one.”
Natalie corrected him quietly.
“Maybe she knew.”
Rebecca’s statement on the cassette had said:
The Parker twins were not the beginning.
They were leverage.
Perhaps Hawthorne targeted Rebecca because she had discovered her own history.
Federal agents recovered old adoption paperwork for Rebecca.
Her parents, both dead, had always told her she was biologically theirs.
The birth certificate was false.
Signed by a physician connected to Hawthorne.
Laura’s mother, Eleanor Bennett, was still alive.
Seventy-two.
Living in a private assisted-care facility.
She had dementia.
But when Laura showed her Rebecca’s photograph, Eleanor touched the image.
“My Rosie.”
Laura began sobbing.
“Who is Rosie?”
Eleanor smiled through tears.
“My first baby.”
Rebecca’s birth name had been Rose.
“What happened to her?” Natalie asked.
Eleanor’s expression changed instantly.
“They told me she died.”
“Who?”
“The doctor.”
“What doctor?”
Eleanor began repeating one name.
“Mason.”
Records identified Dr. Jonathan Mason.
Dead for twelve years.
Founder of three clinics.
Business partner of Charles Vale.
And father of Detective Thomas Caldwell’s late wife.
The corruption was not a network of strangers.
It was family.
Natalie now understood why evidence vanished.
Why investigations died.
Why Rebecca’s accident had been controlled so quickly.
Caldwell had not been protecting a random criminal enterprise.
He had been protecting his wife’s family legacy.
An arrest warrant was issued.
But Caldwell remained missing.
Then an anonymous package arrived at the police station.
Inside was Rebecca Parker’s missing journal.
The first pages detailed Hawthorne.
The middle pages detailed Grace.
The final pages became personal.
I think someone inside the department is helping them.
Natalie continued reading.
Caldwell knows.
Helen knows more than she admits.
Andrew must never know what happened on February 14.
Natalie stopped.
Andrew leaned over her shoulder.
“Our anniversary.”
The next page had been torn out.
The page after it contained one sentence.
If Andrew learns the truth about that night, he may never forgive me.
Andrew stared.
“What did she do?”
No one knew.
At the back of the journal, Rebecca had drawn the same number repeatedly.
214.
Then beneath it:
NOT A DATE.
A ROOM.
Natalie looked at Marcus.
“Camp Hawthorne.”
Marcus shook his head.
“We searched Room 214.”
Natalie looked at Rebecca’s wording.
Not THE room.
May you like
A room.
“Maybe there’s another Room 214.”
