Chapter 13 - The Sister I Never Knew Existed)
Rebecca Shaw arrived two days later.
She was fifty-nine.
Small.
Dark-haired.
Nervous.
She met me at the police station with Morales present.
For several seconds, we simply looked at each other.
Then Rebecca said:
“You have Thomas’s eyes.”
The familiarity in her voice hurt.
“You knew my father well?”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
She looked down.
“We were together before he married Evelyn.”
That was not the answer I expected.
“My father had another child?”
Rebecca nodded.
“A daughter.”
My mind struggled.
“When?”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
“That would mean Dad was already married.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
I needed distance from the table.
“My father cheated on my mother.”
“Yes.”
“And had a child.”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom know?”
Rebecca’s face tightened.
“Eventually.”
“What happened?”
“Thomas wanted to support the baby. He didn’t want to leave you and Melissa, but he wanted to be involved.”
“What was her name?”
“Emily.”
E.
Thomas, Rebecca, and E.
“What did my mother do?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“She threatened me.”
Of course.
“With what?”
“At the time I was struggling financially. Evelyn said she would report me as unstable and make sure Thomas got custody.”
My stomach turned.
Same strategy.
Different generation.
“She used children to control people even then.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to Emily?”
Rebecca began crying.
“When she was eleven months old, Thomas convinced me to let his sister watch her for a weekend.”
“My aunt Joanne?”
Rebecca nodded.
Aunt Joanne.
The same woman who had messaged me that involving police was extreme.
“What happened?”
“When I went to get Emily, Joanne said Thomas had picked her up.”
“Had he?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“Evelyn.”
My hands went cold.
“She kidnapped her?”
“Evelyn said Thomas had authorized it. Thomas said he hadn’t.”
“Where did she take her?”
“I didn’t know for three days.”
“What happened?”
“She gave Emily to a couple in another state.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She arranged a private adoption.”
“That can’t be possible.”
“Not legally.”
My father’s secret payments.
Pike.
Daniel Reed.
Every thread moved backward.
“Who helped her?”
Rebecca looked toward Morales.
“Gerald Pike.”
I whispered, “Of course.”
“He was younger then. Worked under another attorney.”
“Did you go to police?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Documents appeared showing I had consented.”
“Forged?”
“I never signed them.”
A familiar pattern.
My forged signature.
Christopher’s forged custody petition.
Rebecca’s forged adoption consent.
This was not a recent trick.
It was a system Evelyn and Pike had used for decades.
“What did Dad do?”
“Thomas searched for Emily.”
“Did he find her?”
“Eventually.”
My heart raced.
“Where?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“He found the adoptive family when Emily was six.”
“Why didn’t he bring her back?”
“Because by then she loved them.”
Pain crossed Rebecca’s face.
“I wanted to fight. Thomas convinced me that tearing her away might hurt her more.”
“Did you see her?”
“Once.”
“Did she know who you were?”
“No.”
“That’s horrible.”
“I know.”
“What does this have to do with Mason Creek?”
Rebecca wiped her eyes.
“Thomas kept paying me because he felt responsible.”
“The fifty thousand?”
“That wasn’t for me.”
“But it went to your account.”
“I transferred it.”
“To whom?”
“Emily.”
My heart pounded.
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“She disappeared from contact years ago.”
“How?”
“She learned the truth.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
The timing hit me.
Mason Creek.
“She learned right before the crash?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“A private investigator contacted her.”
“Daniel Reed.”
Rebecca nodded.
“He told Emily he had evidence of illegal adoptions connected to Pike.”
“Plural?”
“Yes.”
Not just Emily.
My stomach turned.
“How many children?”
“I don’t know.”
Morales had become very still.
“Did Reed say Evelyn Carter was involved in others?”
Rebecca nodded.
“He thought she helped locate vulnerable mothers.”
I felt sick.
My mother.
A respected retired school administrator.
Church committees.
Charity events.
Family dinners.
And possibly something much darker hidden beneath all of it.
“What happened after Emily learned?”
“She contacted Thomas.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“She wanted answers.”
“Did she contact Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The night of the Mason Creek crash.”
Every piece locked into place.
“You think Emily was on that road.”
Rebecca began crying again.
“I know she was.”
I gripped the table.
“Aaron said someone else was there.”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom hit Emily too?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is Emily Daniel Reed?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Emily called me that night.”
Rebecca’s voice shook.
“She said she had met Reed near Mason Creek. She said Evelyn was coming. Thomas was coming too.”
“Why?”
“To confront everyone.”
“What did she say?”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“She said she finally knew what had been stolen from her.”
My skin prickled.
“And then?”
“The call ended.”
“Did she call again?”
“No.”
“Was she reported missing?”
“Yes.”
“Under what name?”
Rebecca whispered:
“Emily Grant.”
I searched the name immediately.
Missing person.
Twenty-six at disappearance.
Vehicle found near a bus station three days later.
Case still open.
My secret half-sister had vanished after confronting my mother.
The same night Evelyn hit Aaron.
Daniel Reed disappeared one month later.
My father spent years secretly collecting evidence.
Then died.
Christopher returned.
Pike ran.
My daughter became leverage.
This was no longer about one night in my mother’s living room.
That night had simply cracked open twenty-six years of buried damage.
“Does Evelyn know I know about Emily?”
Rebecca asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Morales interrupted.
“We need to keep it that way for now.”
But we were already too late.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
One photograph.
Rebecca and me entering the police station together.
Taken less than an hour earlier.
Below it:
Your father should have left the past buried.
I showed Morales.
She immediately took my phone.
“Do not respond.”
Another message appeared.
You’re asking the wrong question about Emily.
Then:
You keep asking where she went.
May you like
A final message arrived.
Ask why she came back.
