Chapter 3 - TWO GIRLS, ONE BIRTHDAY
The next morning, I learned that Emma had been born on October 19.
The same day as Lily.
Seven years earlier.
At St. Catherine's Medical Center in Chicago.
The same hospital where Grace had died.
I sat across from Rebecca Santos, staring at the information.
"That's impossible."
Rebecca didn't argue.
She simply placed the documents between us.
"The dates match."
"Thousands of children are born on the same day."
"Yes."
"Thousands of children are born in the same city."
"Yes."
I looked at her.
"But they don't all have the same face."
Rebecca folded her hands.
"That's why we need to proceed carefully."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Are you suggesting they might be twins?"
"I'm saying it's a possibility. Not a conclusion."
I stared at the wall.
I remembered the day Lily was born.
The frantic telephone call.
Grace's doctor telling me there had been complications.
The drive through a thunderstorm.
The nurse who met me outside the operating room.
I'm sorry, Mr. Blackwell. We couldn't save your wife.
I remembered asking about the baby.
The nurse had hesitated.
Then she said:
Your daughter is stable.
Daughter.
Singular.
Nobody mentioned twins.
Nobody mentioned another child.
I looked at Rebecca.
"Can we do a DNA test?"
"With appropriate authorization and procedures, yes. But Emma's welfare comes first."
I nodded.
"Of course."
That afternoon, the hospital located records indicating Emma had previously been treated under the surname Vale.
Her listed mother was Hannah Vale.
Her father was recorded as unknown.
Hannah's date of birth placed her in her early thirties.
A photograph from an old hospital registration showed a dark-haired woman with tired eyes.
I had never seen her before.
But she wore something I recognized.
A gold necklace with a small blue stone.
Grace had owned one exactly like it.
I leaned closer.
"Where did she get that?"
Rebecca looked at the image.
"Do you recognize it?"
"My wife wore that necklace."
I remembered giving it to Grace on our fifth anniversary.
A sapphire pendant.
Small.
Simple.
She wore it almost every day.
It had not been among the belongings returned to me after her death.
I had assumed it was lost at the hospital.
Now it was around another woman's neck.
A woman who had raised a child who looked exactly like my daughter.
Rebecca studied my expression.
"Mr. Blackwell?"
I looked up.
"Find out who Hannah Vale really was."
That evening, I returned home with Lily.
She refused to eat dinner.
"Emma's still at the hospital."
"Yes."
"She doesn't have a mommy."
I swallowed.
"I know."
Lily stared at her plate.
"Can she live with us?"
I sat beside her.
"Sweetheart, there are people making sure she's safe."
"But she's alone."
I looked at my daughter.
Seven years old.
And somehow she understood loneliness better than most adults.
"We'll do everything we can to help her."
Lily nodded.
Then whispered:
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"If she's my sister, does that mean Mommy had two babies?"
I couldn't answer.
She looked down.
"Then why didn't she bring Emma home?"
I pulled Lily close.
"I don't know."
May you like
But inside, a terrible thought had begun taking shape.
Maybe Grace had never been given the chance.
