Chapter 9 - Caroline Morrell's Missing Child)
By noon, Morrell House was surrounded by reporters.
The first leaked documents were only six pages.
That was enough.
They showed that Caroline Morrell had delivered a living male infant at St. Catherine's Hospital thirty nine years earlier.
The child had been transferred.
The death certificate had been falsified.
Richard Morrell had discovered this twenty six years later.
Then the trail ended.
News networks treated the story like an explosion.
Adrian refused interviews.
He locked himself inside his father's study.
Grace found him there that afternoon.
She had planned to leave.
Instead Adrian asked her to remain until police determined whether the threats against Lily had ended.
Grace entered carrying coffee.
Adrian was sitting on the floor beside his father's desk.
Documents surrounded him.
"Mrs. Alden said you haven't eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
Grace placed the cup nearby.
On the desk was a framed photograph.
Caroline holding a newborn Adrian.
"Do you remember her?" Grace asked.
"Very well."
"How old were you?"
"Thirteen when she died."
Grace sat in a chair.
Adrian stared at the photograph.
"She used to sit beside my bed when storms came."
Grace smiled faintly.
"Lily still does that."
"My mother hated thunder. But she pretended not to."
He looked at the leaked report.
"She mourned a son she was told was dead."
Grace said nothing.
"Then my father learned the truth and didn't tell her."
"Maybe he learned after she died."
Adrian shook his head.
"I don't know."
That was the cruelty of family secrets.
Once enough lies accumulated, even innocent memories became suspicious.
Adrian looked at Grace.
"Why did you speak up?"
She understood what he meant.
"In the ballroom."
"Yes."
"I didn't."
"Lily did."
"You could have denied it."
Grace smiled sadly.
"My daughter has a terrible relationship with convenient lies."
Adrian almost smiled.
"Apparently."
Grace became serious.
"She shouldn't have had to say it."
"No."
"Vanessa frightened me. Voss frightened me more. But watching you touch that fake belly..."
She stopped.
Adrian looked away.
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't create the lie."
"But I knew."
"You didn't know how far it went."
"I knew enough."
Adrian nodded.
There was a knock.
Michael entered.
"We found something."
He carried a box recovered from a storage unit registered under Melissa Grant's name.
Police had obtained a warrant after tracing old payments.
Inside were letters.
Dozens.
All written by Caroline Morrell.
Adrian stared at the handwriting.
He knew it immediately.
"Why would my mother write to Melissa?"
Michael handed him the first letter.
It was dated eighteen years earlier.
Dear Melissa,
Richard told me you might know something about my first son.
Adrian stopped reading.
His hands shook.
"She knew."
Grace leaned forward.
Adrian continued.
Caroline wrote that she had recently discovered inconsistencies in hospital records.
She begged Melissa for information.
The next letter was more desperate.
Then another.
Then another.
Melissa had apparently responded, but her replies were missing.
The final letter from Caroline was dated six weeks before her death.
I understand why you are afraid.
I am afraid too.
But Richard cannot keep deciding which truths this family is allowed to survive.
Please meet me.
Adrian read the sentence repeatedly.
"How did my mother die?" Michael asked.
"Car accident."
"When?"
"September 14, 2013."
Michael searched the box.
He found a folded calendar page.
A meeting had been written beside September 14.
CAROLINE M.
8 PM.
Adrian stood.
"No."
Grace felt cold.
"Your mother was meeting Melissa the night she died."
Adrian shook his head.
"Her accident happened at seven forty."
"So she never arrived."
Michael found another document.
A newspaper clipping about Caroline's crash.
Beside it, in Melissa's handwriting, were three words.
HE FOUND OUT.
Adrian's face became pale.
"Who?"
Nobody answered.
Richard?
Voss?
Charles?
Someone else?
The door opened.
Detective Palmer entered quickly.
"We found Voss's vehicle."
"Where?"
"Abandoned near Logan Airport."
"Did he fly out?"
"We don't think so."
Palmer placed a photograph on the desk.
Security footage showed Voss entering a parking garage.
A second image showed him meeting a woman.
Her face was partially obscured.
But the timestamp was recent.
Three hours earlier.
Michael stared at the image.
His hands began shaking.
"No."
Vanessa, standing behind Palmer, whispered, "What?"
Michael touched the photograph.
"I know that coat."
Adrian looked at him.
Michael could barely speak.
"It belonged to Melissa."
Vanessa laughed in disbelief.
"That's impossible."
Michael pointed toward a distinctive stitched patch near the shoulder.
Their mother had repaired it by hand when Melissa was seventeen.
Michael remembered because he had teased her about it.
Vanessa stared at the woman in the photograph.
"My mother would be sixty five."
"The woman looks about that age," Palmer said.
Vanessa's face crumpled.
"Can you identify her?"
Michael looked again.
The woman's face remained hidden.
"No."
Palmer placed another image beside it.
This one showed Voss handing the woman a folder.
Project Second Son.
Adrian's missing file.
Grace stared.
"If that's Melissa, she isn't hiding from Voss."
May you like
Michael looked up.
"She's working with him."
