Chapter 4: The Voice That Came Back From the Dead

“Darling, you need to hear what your father did to us before you decide which one of us deserves to survive this family.””

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.

I stood beside my car in the circular driveway, blood drying against my forehead, staring at the mansion where I had spent seventeen years believing I belonged.

The woman on the phone breathed shakily.

“Eleanor? Are you still there?””

“I’m here.”” My voice sounded unfamiliar.

“Where are you?””

“I can’t tell you that yet.””

“Then how do I know you’re really my mother?””

A painful silence followed.

“Because when you were six, you broke my favorite blue teacup and blamed the dog. We didn’t have a dog, darling. You cried so hard that I spent an hour comforting you instead of telling your father what you’d done.””

My knees weakened.

I remembered that afternoon. The blue porcelain pieces scattered across the kitchen floor. My mother’s laughter. The way she had kissed my forehead and whispered that mistakes weren’t the same as lies.

I had buried that memory beneath years of grief.

Now it came back so vividly that I could almost smell the cinnamon cookies she had baked afterward.

“Mom?””

A soft, broken sound came through the phone.

“Yes, sweetheart.””

I pressed my palm against my mouth.

For seventeen years, I had spoken to a photograph on my bedside table. I had celebrated my mother’s birthday alone. I had visited a grave that might not have contained her remains.

And now she was alive.

“Why did you let me believe you were dead?”” I demanded.

“I didn’t know what they had told you until recently.””

“Who is they? Dad? Victoria?

Dr. Whitmore? Everyone seems to know something except me!””

“Your father knew where I was for years.””

The words struck harder than the silver frame had.

I looked toward the mansion.

My father stood behind the upstairs window. Even from the driveway, I could recognize the slope of his shoulders.

“He told me you died in a car accident,” I whispered.

“I know.””

“He buried you.””

“No, Eleanor. He buried someone else.””

My stomach twisted.

“Who?””

“I don’t know her name. I only know that when I woke up in the hospital, my daughters were gone, and Richard had signed papers declaring me mentally incompetent.””

I closed my eyes.

“What happened in 2009?””

My mother took a shaky breath.

“I was in the hospital after giving birth to you and Madison. The delivery was complicated. I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, Victoria was standing beside my bed.””

“Victoria?””

“She told me one of the babies had died. She said the other had been taken to your father. When I demanded to see you, she called the doctors and told them I was suffering from a severe psychiatric episode.””

My hand tightened around the phone.

“Why would she do that?””

“Because I had discovered what she and Richard were doing with the family company.””

The driveway suddenly seemed too exposed. I opened my car door and slipped inside, locking it.

“What were they doing?””

“Stealing money from the company. Millions of dollars. At first, I thought Victoria was acting alone. Then I found documents bearing Richard’s signature.””

“But Dad loved you.””

“He loved the woman he believed I was. When I discovered what he had done, he decided that protecting himself was more important than protecting me.””

I stared at the bloodstained tissue on the passenger seat.

“You’re saying Dad helped Victoria take you away from us?””

“I’m saying your father made a choice. And when he realized what that choice would cost him, he made another.””

“What choice?””

“Your mothering rights were transferred through fraudulent legal documents. I was confined to a private psychiatric facility. Richard told everyone I had died in a car accident, and Victoria raised you under the identity they had constructed.””

I shook my head.

“But Madison was raised as Victoria’s daughter.””

“Yes. They separated you to make sure neither of you could compare your histories. They gave you different birth records, different childhood stories, and different reasons to hate each other.””

The cruelty of it was almost impossible to comprehend.

My sister and I had spent years fighting over bedrooms, clothes, holidays, and our father’s affection.

Victoria had turned us against each other before we were old enough to understand what family meant.

“Where is Madison now?”” I asked.

“I don’t know. Is she with you?””

“No. She’s at the mansion.””

“Then you must get her out.””

“I can’t just walk back in there.””

“Don’t go back,” my mother said sharply.

“Not tonight. Richard has been watching you for weeks.””

I froze.

“What do you mean?””