Chapter 6 - The Tape From Her Seventh Birthday)
The police did not let Claire hear the tape immediately.
It had to be cataloged.
Digitized.
Preserved.
Claire hated procedure for the first time in her life.
At 9:00 the next morning, Detective Mendez called.
She asked Claire and Daniel to come to the station.
Margaret wanted to join them.
Claire said no.
For once, she wanted an answer without watching her mother's face first.
Mendez led them into a small interview room.
A forensic technician sat beside a laptop.
"We've cleaned the audio," he explained. "But some portions are damaged."
Claire stared at the speaker.
Mendez said, "You can stop whenever you want."
"Play it."
Static filled the room.
Then a man's voice.
Robert.
Claire recognized it instantly.
"Say your name."
Silence.
Robert again.
"Say it."
A child's voice answered.
"Claire."
Claire stopped breathing.
Her own voice.
Seven years old.
Daniel looked at her.
The tape continued.
"Claire what?"
"Claire Bennett."
"No."
A pause.
The child began crying.
Robert said, "What was your name before?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"I don't know."
A second male voice entered.
Older.
Calmer.
"Robert, you're pushing too hard."
Claire looked at Mendez.
"Victor?"
"Possibly."
On the tape, Robert said, "She remembers things."
Victor answered, "Children create memories."
"She said Morgan."
Claire's hands went cold.
Victor sighed.
"Because you keep asking."
The child Claire whispered, "I want Mommy."
Robert's voice changed.
"Margaret is your mommy."
"I want the other mommy."
Daniel covered his mouth.
Claire felt herself leaving the room mentally.
She forced herself back.
The tape continued.
Victor asked, "What other mommy?"
Claire's child voice answered.
"The lady with the blue shoes."
Static swallowed several seconds.
Then Robert:
"She can't remember that."
Victor:
"Then stop bringing her here."
Robert:
"We need to know what she remembers."
Victor:
"She was eighteen months old. She doesn't remember anything real."
Claire stared at the table.
Eighteen months.
She had not come to the Bennett family as a newborn.
Someone had altered the story.
The tape ended with the sound of a chair moving.
Then Claire crying.
Then Robert saying, "We do this until she forgets."
Silence.
Daniel stood so suddenly his chair fell backward.
"I'll kill him."
Mendez rose.
"Daniel."
"He did this to her."
"We need you calm."
"He brought a seven-year-old into that room."
Claire did not move.
Daniel turned to her.
"Claire."
She looked up.
"I remember the blue shoes."
Everyone froze.
Claire closed her eyes.
For years she had occasionally dreamed of blue shoes beside a white bathtub.
A woman singing.
A silver necklace.
She had always assumed it was invented.
Now she could almost see the woman.
Dark hair.
A soft voice.
Blue shoes.
Claire whispered, "I thought it was a dream."
Mendez leaned forward.
"What else do you remember?"
"A door."
"What kind?"
"Red."
"Anything else?"
Claire shook her head.
Then stopped.
"A bell."
Daniel sat back down.
"A bell?"
"A church bell, maybe."
The DNA results arrived that afternoon.
Margaret Bennett was not Claire's biological mother.
Probability of maternity: effectively zero.
Daniel and Claire shared no biological sibling relationship.
Robert's court-ordered sample was still processing.
Margaret collapsed when she learned.
Claire did not.
She had already broken hours earlier.
Margaret came to Claire's apartment that night.
Claire almost did not open the door.
Finally she did.
Margaret stood in the hallway holding an old baby blanket.
"I didn't know."
Claire looked at her.
"Did you ever suspect?"
Margaret cried.
"Not until today."
"You said a nurse came to the house."
"Yes."
"You said Dad burned a letter."
"Yes."
"You never wondered?"
Margaret looked ashamed.
"I wondered whether something had gone wrong at the hospital."
"Something did."
"I was afraid to ask Robert."
Claire looked away.
There it was again.
Fear.
A family built around one man's anger.
Margaret held out the blanket.
"This was yours."
Claire did not take it.
Margaret opened one corner.
A faded label had been sewn inside.
Not Bennett.
MORGAN.
Claire stared.
"Where did you get that?"
"It was in the attic."
"You knew this said Morgan?"
"I hadn't seen the label in years. Your grandmother noticed it once. Robert told us it was donated clothing."
Claire touched the worn fabric.
Inside the folded blanket was something small and metallic.
A necklace.
Silver.
Margaret whispered, "I found this stitched into the hem tonight."
Claire lifted it.
A tiny pendant.
A bell.
Claire's memory flashed.
Blue shoes.
A red door.
A woman singing.
A bell necklace.
Claire gripped the table.
Margaret whispered, "Claire?"
Claire looked at the pendant.
On the back were two engraved initials.
E.M.
May you like
Evelyn Morgan.
The nurse who came looking for her.
