PART 3 \u2014 THE MAN BEHIND THE DOOR
\n\u201cI know that voice.\u201d
\nMom\u2019s words were barely audible.
\nBut both security officers heard them.
\nThe officer closest to the door raised one finger to his lips.
\n\u201cFrom where?\u201d
\nMom\u2019s grip tightened around my wrist.
\n\u201cSt. Catherine\u2019s.\u201d
\nMy heart seemed to stop.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s impossible,\u201d I whispered. \u201cThat was more than forty years ago.\u201d
\nMom shook her head.
\n\u201cNot him.\u201d
\nAnother knock came.
\nThree slow taps.
\n\u201cHospital administration,\u201d the man repeated. \u201cI need to speak with Dr. Harris.\u201d
\nThe doctor\u2019s expression changed.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He hadn\u2019t introduced himself as Dr. Harris.
\nNot once.
\nThe security officer noticed too.
\nHe stepped away from the door and quietly spoke into his radio.
\n\u201cConfirm whether administration sent anyone to room 614.\u201d
\nStatic crackled.
\nThen a voice answered.
\n\u201cNegative.\u201d
\nNobody moved.
\nThe man outside knocked again.
\n\u201cDoctor?\u201d
\nMom suddenly pulled me toward her.
\n\u201cDon\u2019t let him see me.\u201d
\n\u201cWho is he?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know his name.\u201d
\n\u201cThen how do you recognize his voice?\u201d
\nMom looked toward the door.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause he came to my house.\u201d
\nA chill went through me.
\n\u201cWhen?\u201d
\n\u201cThree weeks ago.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cYou never told me.\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t tell anyone.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat did he want?\u201d
\n\u201cHe said he was researching St. Catherine\u2019s for a historical project.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you spoke to him?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. I told him he had the wrong person.\u201d
\nThe knocking stopped.
\nFor several seconds, there was silence.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Then footsteps moved away.
\nOne security officer opened the door just enough to look down the hallway.
\n\u201cHe\u2019s leaving.\u201d
\n\u201cStop him,\u201d Dr. Harris said.
\nBoth officers disappeared into the corridor.
\nI heard running.
\nA shout.
\nThen the sound of elevator doors chiming somewhere nearby.
\nMom swung her legs over the side of the bed.
\n\u201cWe need to leave.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nShe stared at me.
\n\u201cMom, forty seconds ago you told me you didn\u2019t give birth to me.\u201d
\nHer face crumpled.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t get to say something like that and then walk away.\u201d
\n\u201cI was trying to protect you.\u201d
\n\u201cFrom what?\u201d
\nShe looked toward the door.
\n\u201cFrom exactly this.\u201d
\nI pointed at the computer screen.
\n\u201cMy birthday is on that record. My surname is on that record. Evelyn Carter is listed as my biological mother.\u201d
\nMom closed her eyes.
\n\u201cPlease sit down.\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t want to sit down.\u201d
\n\u201cPlease.\u201d
\nSomething in her voice made me do it.
\nDr. Harris remained near the computer while the nurse quietly closed the door again.
\nMom sat on the edge of the hospital bed.
\nFor a moment, she looked incredibly old.
\nThen she began.
\n\u201cEvelyn and I became friends almost immediately after I arrived at St. Catherine\u2019s.\u201d
\nShe stared at her hands.
\n\u201cShe was eighteen. I was seventeen. We were both terrified.\u201d
\n\u201cWas she pregnant?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWith me?\u201d
\nMom nodded.
\nThe answer hurt even though I already knew it.
\n\u201cThen where was your baby?\u201d
\nMom swallowed.
\n\u201cMy daughter was born seven weeks before you.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat happened to her?\u201d
\n\u201cThey took her.\u201d
\n\u201cYou never saw her again?\u201d
\n\u201cNot after the first night.\u201d
\nHer voice cracked.
\n\u201cI held her for maybe ten minutes.\u201d
\nI reached toward Mom without thinking, then stopped.
\nEverything between us suddenly felt complicated.
\nShe noticed.
\nThat seemed to hurt her more than anything.
\n\u201cEvelyn helped me survive afterward,\u201d she continued. \u201cI stopped eating. I stopped speaking. I wanted to die.\u201d
\nShe wiped away a tear.
\n\u201cBut Evelyn wouldn\u2019t leave me alone.\u201d
\nMom gave a tiny, broken smile.
\n\u201cShe used to sneak bread from the kitchen and put it under my pillow.\u201d
\nDespite everything, I could picture them.
\nTwo frightened teenage girls trying to take care of each other in a place where nobody else would.
\n\u201cWhat about the tattoo?\u201d
\n\u201cEvelyn started it.\u201d
\nMom pulled back her sleeve.
\nThe faded flower looked different now.
\nNot decorative.
\nA scar disguised as something beautiful.
\n\u201cShe found a bottle of blue ink in the laundry room. One night she used a sewing needle to put a tiny flower on her wrist.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cShe said if they took our babies, changed our names, and destroyed our records, we needed something they couldn\u2019t rewrite.\u201d
\nMom touched the flower.
\n\u201cA forget-me-not.\u201d
\nThe nurse looked away.
\n\u201cEventually twelve of us had one.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd Evelyn found the records?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nMom\u2019s voice became quieter.
\n\u201cOne evening, she was cleaning the administrator\u2019s office when she discovered a locked cabinet.\u201d
\n\u201cHow did she open it?\u201d
\n\u201cShe stole the key.\u201d
\nInside, Mom explained, Evelyn found duplicate birth documents.
\nOne set recorded what families were told.
\nThe other recorded where certain babies actually went.
\n\u201cWhy would they do that?\u201d
\n\u201cI never knew.\u201d
\n\u201cMoney?\u201d
\n\u201cMaybe.\u201d
\nMom shook her head.
\n\u201cBut Evelyn believed some babies were being deliberately given new identities.\u201d
\nMy stomach twisted.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cShe never had time to find out.\u201d
\nThe paper from the locket suddenly felt much heavier.
\n\u201cThe number she gave you.\u201d
\nMom nodded.
\n\u201cShe told me, \u2018If anything happens to me, keep this.\u2019\u201d
\n\u201cWhat happened the next day?\u201d
\n\u201cThey took Evelyn away.\u201d
\n\u201cWho?\u201d
\n\u201cTwo men.\u201d
\nMom\u2019s eyes became distant.
\n\u201cShe was screaming.\u201d
\nI felt my throat tighten.
\n\u201cThey told everyone she had gone home.\u201d
\n\u201cBut you knew she hadn\u2019t.\u201d
\n\u201cI knew.\u201d
\n\u201cHow?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause Evelyn would never have left without this.\u201d
\nMom touched the blue flower.
\n\u201cShe made me promise that if either of us escaped, we would find the other.\u201d
\nI looked at the birth record again.
\n\u201cBut she gave birth to me afterward.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cHow do you know?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause I saw her again.\u201d
\nI froze.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nMom looked at me.
\n\u201cSix weeks after they took her away.\u201d
\nThe room became silent.
\n\u201cThey brought her back?\u201d
\n\u201cOnly for one night.\u201d
\nMom\u2019s voice trembled.
\n\u201cShe was heavily pregnant. She had bruises on her arms. She wouldn\u2019t tell me where she had been.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d
\n\u201cShe went into labor.\u201d
\nMy heart began pounding.
\n\u201cThey wouldn\u2019t take her to a hospital. One nurse delivered the baby in a downstairs room.\u201d
\n\u201cYou saw me?\u201d
\nMom nodded.
\n\u201cI heard you cry.\u201d
\nForty-three years of my life collapsed into that sentence.
\n\u201cWhat happened to Evelyn?\u201d
\n\u201cAfter you were born, they sedated her.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd me?\u201d
\nMom looked down.
\n\u201cThey put you in a nursery.\u201d
\nI could barely breathe.
\n\u201cWhat happened next?\u201d
\n\u201cThere was a storm that night.\u201d
\nShe paused.
\n\u201cThe electricity failed.\u201d
\nDr. Harris stepped closer.
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cAnd one of the nurses opened my dormitory door.\u201d
\nMom\u2019s eyes filled with tears.
\n\u201cHer name was Margaret.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat did she want?\u201d
\n\u201cShe handed me a blanket.\u201d
\nMom looked directly at me.
\n\u201cYou were inside it.\u201d
\nMy chest tightened.
\n\u201cShe gave me Evelyn\u2019s baby?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cShe said, \u2018Take her and run.\u2019\u201d
\nNobody in the room spoke.
\n\u201cSo you kidnapped me?\u201d
\nMom flinched.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s what it sounds like!\u201d
\n\u201cI was eighteen years old!\u201d
\nHer voice broke.
\n\u201cI had already lost my daughter. Evelyn had disappeared. Margaret told me that if I left you there, by morning you would have another name and nobody would ever find you again.\u201d
\nI stood.
\n\u201cSo you just took me?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nThe word landed hard.
\n\u201cWhat about Evelyn?\u201d
\n\u201cI begged Margaret to let me get her.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cShe said Evelyn was gone.\u201d
\n\u201cDead?\u201d
\n\u201cShe didn\u2019t know.\u201d
\n\u201cThen how did you become my mother legally?\u201d
\nMom hesitated.
\nThat hesitation terrified me.
\n\u201cDad helped.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cMy father knew?\u201d
\n\u201cHe knew everything.\u201d
\nI felt dizzy.
\n\u201cDad knew you weren\u2019t my biological mother?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nI thought about the man who taught me to ride a bicycle.
\nThe man who walked me down the aisle.
\nThe man whose photograph Mom carried in her locket.
\nHe had died eleven years ago.
\nAnd apparently he had taken an enormous secret with him.
\n\u201cHow?\u201d
\n\u201cI met your father two days after I escaped.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cHe was Margaret\u2019s younger brother.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cDad\u2019s sister worked at St. Catherine\u2019s?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy did nobody ever tell me Aunt Margaret existed?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause she disappeared.\u201d
\nMy skin prickled.
\n\u201cWhen?\u201d
\n\u201cThree days after she helped us.\u201d
\nThe nurse whispered, \u201cOh my God.\u201d
\nMom nodded.
\n\u201cYour father spent years looking for her.\u201d
\n\u201cDid he ever find her?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cThen how did you get papers for me?\u201d
\n\u201cMargaret gave us documents.\u201d
\n\u201cFake documents?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nMom looked at the computer.
\n\u201cApparently some were real enough.\u201d
\nI wanted to be angry.
\nPart of me was.
\nBut another part kept imagining an eighteen-year-old girl running through a storm carrying someone else\u2019s newborn.
\nMe.
\n\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me when I became an adult?\u201d
\nMom began crying.
\n\u201cBecause by then you were my daughter.\u201d
\n\u201cI was always your daughter.\u201d
\nThe words came out before I could stop them.
\nMom looked up.
\nFor one second, neither of us breathed.
\nThen I added, \u201cBut I deserved the truth.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nHer answer was immediate.
\n\u201cYou did.\u201d
\nBefore either of us could say more, the door opened.
\nOne of the security officers returned alone.
\nHis face was tense.
\n\u201cWe lost him.\u201d
\nDr. Harris frowned.
\n\u201cHow?\u201d
\n\u201cHe used the stairwell.\u201d
\n\u201cCameras?\u201d
\n\u201cWe\u2019re checking.\u201d
\nThe officer looked at Mom.
\n\u201cBut we found something.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cHe dropped this.\u201d
\nThe officer held up a plastic visitor badge inside an evidence bag.
\nThe name printed on it meant nothing to me.
\nROBERT VALE.
\nMom stared at it.
\n\u201cDo you know that name?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nThe officer turned the badge around.
\nSomething was written on the back in black ink.
\nHe held it toward us.
\nThree words.
\nSHE IS ALIVE.
\nMom\u2019s knees nearly gave out.
\n\u201cWho?\u201d I asked.
\nNobody answered.
\nI grabbed the badge.
\n\u201cWho is alive?\u201d
\nMom stared at those words.
\n\u201cEvelyn.\u201d
\nMy heart slammed against my ribs.
\n\u201cYou think my biological mother is alive?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nDr. Harris looked at the officer.
\n\u201cCould this have been deliberately left behind?\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s what worries me.\u201d
\nThen the officer\u2019s radio crackled.
\n\u201cUnit six, we found your subject.\u201d
\nEveryone froze.
\n\u201cLocation?\u201d
\n\u201cParking structure, level three.\u201d
\nThe officer grabbed the door.
\nThen the radio continued.
\n\u201cHe\u2019s not alone.\u201d
\nThe officer stopped.
\n\u201cHow many?\u201d
\nThere was a pause.
\n\u201cOne woman.\u201d
\nMom went pale.
\n\u201cDescription?\u201d
\nThe radio answered.
\n\u201cApproximately mid-sixties. Gray hair. Blue jacket.\u201d
\nMom\u2019s hand flew to her mouth.
\nThen came the detail that silenced the entire room.
\n\u201cShe has a blue flower tattoo on her left wrist.\u201d
\nMom whispered, \u201cOne of us.\u201d
\nI looked toward the door.
\n\u201cThen we need to talk to her.\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d Mom said.
\nI turned.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nHer eyes were fixed on the visitor badge.
\n\u201cBecause if she came here with that man, she may not be here to help us.\u201d
\nThe officer\u2019s radio crackled again.
\nThis time, the voice on the other end sounded urgent.
\n\u201cSomething else. The woman is asking for someone.\u201d
\n\u201cWho?\u201d
\nThe response came.
\nMy full name.
\nNot Mom\u2019s.
\nMine.
\nMy blood went cold.
\n\u201cHow does she know my name?\u201d
\nThen the nurse\u2019s computer made a soft notification sound.
\nShe glanced at the screen.
\nAnd froze.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d Dr. Harris asked.
\nThe nurse slowly turned the monitor toward us.
\nSomeone had just accessed my hospital file.
\nNot Mom\u2019s.
\nMine.
\nThe access had happened less than one minute ago.
\nAnd beside the login was a name.
\nMARGARET BENNETT.
\nMom screamed.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s impossible!\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nHer entire body began trembling.
\n\u201cBecause Margaret Bennett disappeared forty-three years ago.\u201d
\nShe looked at the screen again.
\n\u201cAnd your father spent the rest of his life believing his sister was dead.\u201d
\nThen the room phone rang.
\nNobody moved.
\nIt rang again.
\nDr. Harris slowly picked it up.
\n\u201cHello?\u201d
\nHis face changed.
\nHe looked directly at me.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s for you.\u201d
\nMy mouth went dry.
\n\u201cWho is it?\u201d
\nHe held the receiver toward me.
\n\u201cShe says her name is Margaret.\u201d
\nI took the phone with trembling fingers.
\n\u201cHello?\u201d
\nFor several seconds, there was only breathing.
\nThen an elderly woman whispered:
\n\u201cDon\u2019t believe the woman in the parking garage.\u201d
\nMy heart stopped.
\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d
\n\u201cYou already know.\u201d
\n\u201cAre you Margaret?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere are you?\u201d
\n\u201cI can\u2019t tell you.\u201d
\n\u201cThen tell me who the woman downstairs is.\u201d
\nSilence.
\n\u201cMargaret?\u201d
\nWhen she finally answered, her words made Mom grab the side of the bed.
\n\u201cThat woman isn\u2019t Evelyn.\u201d
\n\u201cThen who is she?\u201d
\nAnother pause.
\n\u201cShe\u2019s the reason Evelyn disappeared.\u201d
\nI looked at Mom.
\n\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d
\nBut Margaret kept talking.
\n\u201cAnd if she knows your name, you don\u2019t have much time.\u201d
\n\u201cTime for what?\u201d
\nHer voice dropped to a whisper.
\n\u201cTo find your real mother before she does.\u201d
\nThen the line went dead.
\nI stood there holding the receiver.
\nAnd before I could tell anyone what Margaret had said, the security officer\u2019s radio exploded with shouting.
\n\u201cLevel three! Subject is running!\u201d
\n\u201cWhich subject?\u201d
\n\u201cThe woman!\u201d
\nA second voice broke through.
\n\u201cShe left something on the windshield of a silver sedan.\u201d
\nThe officer looked at me.
\n\u201cWhat kind of car did you arrive in?\u201d
\nMy stomach dropped.
\n\u201cSilver.\u201d
\nTwenty minutes later, security brought the object upstairs.
\nIt was an envelope.
\nMy name was written across the front.
\nInside was a photograph.
\nA woman stood outside a small white house.
\nThe picture appeared recent.
\nShe looked to be in her early sixties.
\nGray streaks ran through her dark hair.
\nAnd on her wrist was a tiny blue flower.
\nI turned the photograph over.
\nThere was an address written on the back.
\nUnderneath were seven words.
\nYOUR MOTHER HAS BEEN WAITING FOR YOU.
\nI looked at Mom.
\nShe stared at the address.
\nThen she whispered something I almost didn\u2019t hear.
\n\u201cI know that house.\u201d
\nMy pulse jumped.
\n\u201cHow?\u201d
\nMom raised her eyes to mine.
\n\u201cBecause I went there once.\u201d
\n\u201cWhen?\u201d
\n\u201cForty-three years ago.\u201d
\nShe swallowed.
\n\u201cThe morning after I escaped with you.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cWhat happened there?\u201d
\nMom looked at the photograph again.
\nAnd the fear on her face returned.
\n\u201cThat was where I was supposed to give you back.\u201d
\n\u201cTo Evelyn?\u201d
\nMom slowly shook her head.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cThen to whom?\u201d
\nShe looked at me.
\n\u201cTo the person who arranged your disappearance.\u201d
\nAnd suddenly I understood something terrifying.
\nMom hadn\u2019t simply escaped St. Catherine\u2019s with me.
\nSomeone had been waiting outside.
\nSomeone had helped erase my original identity.
\nAnd after forty-three years, that person had apparently found me again………………<\/p>\n
PART 3 \u2014 THE MAN BEHIND THE DOOR \u201cI know that voice.\u201d Mom\u2019s words were barely audible. But both security officers heard them. The officer closest to the door raised … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5199,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6964","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6964","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6964"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6964\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6969,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6964\/revisions\/6969"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6964"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6964"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6964"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}