Chapter 4
Jason dropped his keys.
“My father?”
Melissa started crying harder.
“He’s outside.”
Jason looked at me as if I could somehow explain.
His father, Robert, had been dead for three years.
At least that's what Jason believed.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“I saw him.”
“My father is dead.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No, Jason. He isn't.”
Jason grabbed the phone.
“I identified his body.”
Melissa’s breathing became ragged.
“You identified a body after a highway fire. You identified his wedding ring.”
Jason stopped.
I remembered the accident.
A burned vehicle.
A body too badly damaged for visual identification.
Dental records had supposedly confirmed it.
Diane had handled most of the funeral arrangements.
The insurance.
Everything.
I felt sick.
“Melissa,” I said, “get out of your apartment.”
“I can't. They're in the hallway.”
“Fire escape?”
“Third floor.”
“Window?”
“Too high.”
Rachel was already dialing police from her phone.
Jason paced.
“Why would my father fake his death?”
“I don't know.”
A heavy knock exploded through Melissa’s phone.
She screamed.
Then a man’s voice.
“MELISSA.”
Jason stopped breathing.
I had heard Robert’s voice hundreds of times.
Birthday dinners.
Christmas mornings.
Arguments at barbecues.
Even distorted through a phone, I recognized it.
So did Jason.
His face drained completely.
“Dad?”
The knocking stopped.
For one horrifying second, everything was quiet.
Then Robert spoke through the door.
“Jason?”
Melissa must have dropped the phone because we heard it strike something.
Robert raised his voice.
“Son, if you're listening, stay out of this.”
Jason looked like someone had punched him.
“You're alive.”
Robert laughed.
Actually laughed.
“Your mother should have kept her mouth shut.”
Jason shouted into the phone.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?”
The door crashed.
Melissa screamed.
Then the call disconnected.
“Call her back!” I shouted.
Jason did.
No answer.
Rachel said, “Police are already going.”
Jason ran for the front door.
I grabbed him.
“Where are you going?”
“To her apartment.”
“You don't even know where it is.”
“I do.”
Of course he did.
Another secret.
“Give the address to police.”
“I’m going.”
“Jason, your supposedly dead father just broke into a witness’s apartment.”
“She knows where our daughter is.”
“Our?”
He froze.
I hadn't meant it that way.
But the word hung between us.
We had two little girls tangled in this nightmare.
Emma.
Lily.
Our daughter by love.
Our daughter by blood.
Whatever happened next would destroy somebody.
Maybe all of us.
“I’m coming,” I said.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Try stopping me.”
Rachel insisted on driving.
Police had already arrived when we reached Melissa’s apartment complex.
One officer blocked the stairwell.
Jason gave his name.
The officer looked immediately interested.
“Are you related to Robert Hayes?”
Jason swallowed.
“He’s my father.”
“Come with me.”
We followed.
Melissa was sitting on the curb wrapped in a blanket.
Alive.
Jason rushed toward her.
“What happened?”
She looked at me first.
Her expression filled with shame.
“Sarah.”
I stopped several feet away.
This was the woman in the photograph.
The woman who kissed my husband.
But suddenly that seemed almost meaningless.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No.”
“Where are Diane and Robert?”
“They ran when police came.”
Jason shook his head.
“My father is alive.”
“Yes.”
“How long have you known?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three weeks?”
“I didn't know who he was before that.”
She looked at me.
“I found a photograph.”
“Of what?”
“Robert working at St. Matthew’s.”
Jason frowned.
“He didn't work at a hospital.”
“He wasn't officially employed there.”
“What does that mean?”
Melissa stood slowly.
“Your father had a gambling problem.”
I knew that.
Everyone did.
He called it betting.
Diane called it investing in sports.
Jason called it a sickness.
“He owed people money,” Melissa continued. “A lot.”
“How does that connect to our babies?” I asked.
She glanced toward the police officers.
“We shouldn't talk here.”
“Then where?”
The officer led us inside a small leasing office.
Melissa sat across from us.
Her hands were shaking.
“I worked overnight maternity when Emma and Lily were born.”
“Start at the beginning,” I said.
She nodded.
“Lauren Carter gave birth at 10:42 p.m.”
“My daughter was born at 10:03.”
“Yes.”
“Was my baby healthy?”
Melissa looked at me.
“Yes.”
My eyes filled immediately.
“Was she really seven pounds, four ounces?”
“Yes.”
“Dark hair?”
“Yes.”
“Did she cry right away?”
“Yes.”
I covered my mouth.
Those details shouldn't have mattered.
But they did.
They were pieces of a first night stolen from me.
“Then what happened?”
“At approximately two in the morning, I went on break.”
“Who was responsible for the nursery?”
“A nurse named Patricia Cole.”
“Where is she?”
Melissa hesitated.
“Dead.”
Jason swore under his breath.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
Convenient.
Too convenient.
“How?” Rachel asked.
“Stroke.”
I didn't believe anything anymore.
Melissa continued.
“When I returned from break, the identifying tags on two bassinets had been replaced.”
I stared at her.
“You noticed?”
“Not immediately. The tags looked correct.”
“How did you learn?”
“The next morning I scanned Emma’s ankle band before bringing her into Sarah’s room. The system rejected it.”
My chest tightened.
“What did you do?”
“I told Patricia.”
“And?”
“She rescanned it. It worked.”
“How?”
“I didn't understand then.”
“But you do now.”
Melissa nodded.
“Patricia had administrative access.”
Jason leaned forward.
“Why would she switch babies?”
“Money.”
Nobody spoke.
“Robert paid her.”
My skin crawled.
“My father paid a nurse to switch our daughter with someone else’s child?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Melissa's eyes moved to me.
“Because of Lauren Carter.”
“What about her?”
“She wasn't random.”
“Who was she?”
Melissa exhaled.
“She was Robert’s daughter.”
Jason stared at her.
“What?”
“From an affair.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Jason’s voice became a whisper.
“Lauren is my half-sister?”
“Yes.”
I couldn't understand.
“If Lauren is Robert’s daughter, then Lily—”
“Is Robert’s granddaughter.”
“So is Emma.”
Melissa nodded.
“Exactly.”
I slammed my palm on the table.
“Then why switch them?”
Melissa flinched.
“Because Lauren was going to lose custody.”
“Of a newborn?”
“She had serious legal problems at the time.”
“What problems?”
“Drugs. An abusive boyfriend. An outstanding warrant.”
My stomach sank.
“So Robert decided my baby should go to her?”
“No.”
Melissa looked at me.
“The opposite.”
I froze.
“He wanted Lauren’s baby placed with you.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought your home was safer.”
Jason stood violently.
“He stole Sarah's child to rescue Lauren’s?”
Melissa nodded.
“And what happened to my daughter?”
“Robert arranged for her to go home with Lauren.”
My lungs stopped working.
I imagined my newborn being handed into an unstable home because a man decided he could play God.
“Why not call social services?” Rachel demanded.
“Because Robert believed Lauren would go to prison and the baby would disappear into foster care.”
Jason paced.
“So he swapped the babies?”
“He convinced himself he was saving his granddaughter.”
“And sacrificed ours,” I whispered.
Melissa looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Why did Diane help him?”
“She didn't know before it happened.”
That surprised me.
“She found out months later.”
“How?”
“Patricia asked Robert for more money.”
“Blackmail.”
“Yes.”
“And Diane covered it up.”
“Yes.”
Jason sat back down.
His eyes were empty.
“What does my fake-dead father have to do with this now?”
Melissa swallowed.
“Patricia kept records.”
“What records?”
“Proof of the switch. Payments. Internal documents. Photos.”
“Where?”
“She gave them to Robert before she died.”
“Why?”
“He paid her again.”
Rachel shook her head.
“This family treats crimes like monthly subscriptions.”
Nobody laughed.
I asked, “Why did Robert fake his death?”
Melissa looked at Jason.
“Because investigators were getting close to him over something else. Insurance fraud. Gambling debts. Maybe more.”
“And Diane helped.”
“Yes.”
Jason pressed his hands against his temples.
“My mother buried an empty coffin.”
Melissa nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“But none of that is why they came to my apartment tonight.”
“What did they want?”
“A flash drive.”
“Do you have it?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
Jason leaned forward.
“What's on it?”
“Everything Patricia saved.”
My pulse raced.
“Then give it to the police.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
Melissa nodded.
But she didn't move.
I studied her.
“What aren't you telling us?”
She started crying.
“There’s one more thing.”
I hated those words.
Always one more thing.
“What?”
“Lauren knows.”
My stomach dropped.
“About the switch?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Almost a year.”
My voice cracked.
“And she never told me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She was afraid you'd take Lily.”
I thought of the photograph.
The dark-haired woman holding my biological daughter.
Of course she was afraid.
I understood that fear.
And still hated her for it.
“Where is she?”
Melissa looked directly at me.
“About two hours from here.”
“Address.”
“I don't think showing up tonight is a good idea.”
“I didn't ask what you think.”
“Sarah.”
“ADDRESS.”
She pulled out her phone.
Then stopped.
“Before I give it to you, you need to know something.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Apparently that's the theme of my day.”
“Lauren doesn't just have Lily.”
I waited.
Melissa's face tightened.
“She has another child.”
“So?”
“A six-year-old boy.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Melissa stared at Jason.
Then at me.
“His name is Noah.”
My heart started pounding for no reason I could explain.
“And?”
May you like
Melissa whispered:
“Jason is his father.”
