Chapter 6: The Baby Claire Already Stole
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I looked at Owen.
Then at the photograph.
Then back at Owen.
“Claire adopted your sister's baby?””
He nodded slowly.
“Seven years ago. My sister, Rachel, died during childbirth. Her husband had disappeared before the baby was born.””
Natalie sat down.
“Why didn't you tell us?””
“Because Claire and I never discussed the details of the adoption. She told me the baby had been placed with another family.””
He rubbed his forehead.
“I believed her.””
“Did you ever see the child?””
“No.””
“Not once?””
Owen shook his head.
“I was living overseas at the time. Claire told me the adoption had been finalized before I returned.””
I looked at the photograph again.
The bracelet clearly showed the name Whitmore.
“Why would Claire send me this?””
Owen didn't answer.
Margaret took the phone and enlarged the image.
“There's a hospital name in the corner.””
She studied it.
“St. Mary's Women's Hospital.””
I recognized the name immediately.
It was the hospital where I had planned to give birth before Damon persuaded me to transfer to his preferred clinic.
Natalie noticed my expression.
“Emily?””
I pointed at the screen.
“That's where Claire wanted me to deliver.””
Margaret looked up sharply.
“Have you received any medical treatment there?””
“No. I visited once for a tour. Damon said the facilities were better.””
“Did you sign anything?””
“I signed a visitor registration form.””
Margaret made a note.
“Then we need to find out whether that form was used for anything else.””
Owen was still staring at the photograph.
“There's something else,” he said.
“What?””
“My sister's daughter was named Lily.””
I looked at him.
“And?””
“Claire changed her name after the adoption.””
“To what?””
He swallowed.
“Claire never told me.””
I glanced at the photograph.
A tiny bracelet.
A newborn.
A woman who had apparently built her life around acquiring other people's children.
I suddenly remembered something Claire had said during my baby shower.
She had stood beside the nursery crib, running her fingers along the white wooden rail.
“Some women are meant to be mothers,” she had said.
“Others are just lucky enough to get the chance.””
At the time, I thought she was talking about her infertility struggles.
Now the memory felt different.
I looked at Owen.
“Did Claire want children?””
“Yes.””
“Could she have children?””
He hesitated.
“Not naturally, according to what she told me.””
“Did she ever tell you why?””
“No. She said there were complications after a medical procedure.””
I looked at Margaret.
“Can we find the adoption records?””
“Possibly, depending on the jurisdiction and the circumstances. But we need a legitimate reason to request them.””
Owen leaned forward.
“I have one.””
He opened his briefcase and removed a document.
It was a birth certificate.
Rachel Whitmore's name appeared as the mother.
A child's name had been written beneath it.
*Lily Rachel Whitmore.*
The date matched the photograph.
Owen placed another paper beside it.
An adoption consent form.
The signature at the bottom belonged to Claire.
But the section for the biological father's consent was blank.
Margaret examined it.
“This document may be invalid.””
“Why?”” I asked.
“Because a surviving legal parent may have had rights that weren't properly addressed.””
Owen stared at the paper.
“Rachel's husband disappeared before the birth. We never found him.””
Margaret nodded.
“Then someone may have obtained custody without completing the required legal process.””
I felt a chill.
“Could Claire have used that baby to get access to the Whitmore family trust?””
Owen looked up.
“My sister had a small inheritance.””
“How much?””
“About four million dollars.””
The room went silent.
I slowly sat down.
Claire hadn't simply wanted a child.
She had been involved in an adoption connected to another inheritance.
And now she was trying to become the guardian of mine.
The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
That evening, Owen took us to a hotel under a different name.
Margaret advised me not to return home until we had secured the relevant documents and established a safe plan.
I hated leaving my house.
My clothes were there.
My daughter's nursery was there.
The ultrasound pictures were on the refrigerator.
But I hated the thought of Damon standing in our bedroom even more.
Natalie helped me unpack a small bag.
“You need to rest.””
“I can't.””
“You need to think about the baby.””
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“I keep remembering everything Claire said.””
Natalie sat beside me.
“She manipulated you.””
“I introduced her to Damon.””
“You trusted her. That's not your fault.””
I looked at the ultrasound photograph.
“She held my hand when I told her I was pregnant.””
Natalie squeezed my shoulder.
“Some people know exactly how to act when they're planning to betray you.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
*Emily, my name is Rachel's husband. We need to talk.*
I sat upright.
Rachel.
Owen's sister.
I showed Natalie.
“Who is this?””
“I don't know.””
Another message arrived.
*I know Claire adopted my daughter without my permission. And I know what she plans to do with yours.*
My fingers trembled.
I called the number.
A man answered.
“Hello?””
“Who are you?””
“My name is Michael.””
“Are you Rachel's husband?””
“Yes.””
“Where have you been for seven years?””
He sighed.
“Trying to find my daughter.””
I looked toward Natalie.
“What happened?””
“I was told Rachel had died and the baby hadn't survived.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who told you that?””
“Claire.””
I closed my eyes.
“She told you the baby died?””
“Yes. She showed me a hospital letter. I believed her.””
“Why didn't you investigate?””
“I did. But by the time I returned, Rachel had already been buried and the adoption papers had been filed.””
His voice broke.
“I was young. I had no money. Claire's family had lawyers. They told me I had no rights.””
I looked at the documents Owen had shown us.
“Did you sign anything?””
“No.””
“Did you ever give Claire permission to adopt your daughter?””
“Never.””
I felt sick.
“Why are you contacting me now?””
“Because someone sent me a photograph of your pregnancy agreement.””
I froze.
“Who?””
“Damon.””
I looked at Natalie.
“What?””
Michael continued.
“He told me Claire was planning to become your baby's guardian. He said you had agreed to it.””
“That's a lie.””
“I know that now.””
I gripped the phone.
“Why would Damon contact you?””
“Because he wanted me to sign a statement claiming Owen was the biological father of your child.””
My mouth went dry.
“Did you?””
“No. I refused.””
“Then why are you calling me?””
Michael took a shaky breath.
“Because I found something in Rachel's old belongings.””
“What?””
“A letter she wrote before she died.””
I waited.
“She mentioned your mother.””
My heart stopped.
“My mother?””
“Yes. She said your mother had discovered what Claire was doing and had tried to stop her.””
I sat down.
“What exactly did Rachel write?””
Michael's voice lowered.
“She said Claire wasn't supposed to adopt her baby. She was supposed to deliver it to someone else.””
“To whom?””
“I don't know.””
He paused.
“But there's a name in the letter.””
“What name?””
“Damon Carter.””
I stared at the wall.
Then I heard a knock at the hotel room door.
Natalie stood.
“Who is it?””
No answer.
She looked through the peephole.
Her face turned white.
“Emily…”
“What?””
“It's Damon.””
I stood slowly.
Another knock.
Then his voice came through the door.
“Emily, I know you're in there.””
I looked at my phone.
Michael was still on the line.
“Don't open that door,” he whispered.
Damon knocked again.
“Sweetheart, please. I brought Claire.””
I stepped backward.
Then Claire's voice joined his.
“Emily, we just want to talk.””
I felt my daughter move.
I placed both hands over my belly.
“Go away,” I called.
Damon sighed.
“Don't make me do this.””
“Do what?””
He paused.
Then I heard the sound of paper sliding beneath the door.
Natalie picked it up.
It was an official-looking document.
At the top were the words:
*EMERGENCY PETITION FOR TEMPORARY MATERNAL CUSTODY RESTRICTION.*
My name appeared beneath the heading.
The petitioner was Damon Carter.
And the supporting witness was Claire Whitmore.
I looked at the signature.
Then I noticed the date.
It had been filed that morning.
I turned toward the door.
“Damon, you can't do this.””
His voice came through again.
“Actually, Emily, I already have.””
A second voice spoke behind him.
A woman's voice.
Not Claire's.
“Mrs. Carter?””
I froze.
It was the same woman from the maternity department.
The hospital employee who had warned me about my medical records.
She spoke through the door.
“I'm sorry, but we have an order requiring you to come with us for an urgent psychiatric evaluation.””
Natalie grabbed my arm.
“Emily, don't move.””
The woman continued.
“And if you refuse, the court may authorize temporary removal of your unborn child from your care.””
I stared at the paper.
Then I looked at the ultrasound picture in my hand.
They weren't waiting for the birth anymore.
They were trying to take control before my daughter even entered the world.
And suddenly, another message appeared on my phone.
From Michael.
*Emily, I found Rachel's final letter. Your mother was right about Claire. But there's something you don't know about your own birth.*
May you like
A second message followed.
*Damon Carter isn't the only person who has been lying about your family.*
