\u201cWhich one of us was supposed to die?\u201d
\nMy voice echoed through the dark hospital corridor.
\nRichard Collins stood beneath the flickering emergency light, staring at me with an expression I couldn\u2019t understand.
\nFor thirty years, this man had known the truth about my birth.
\nFor eleven years, he\u2019d known what happened to Margaret Bennett.
\nAnd now he was standing in front of me, smiling as though the destruction of my entire life was nothing more than an interesting conversation.
\n\u201cAnswer me!\u201d I shouted.
\nEmily stood beside me, trembling.
\nHer eyes remained fixed on the photograph of the two newborn babies.
\nLucas Whitmore.
\nEmily Whitmore.
\nTwo names.
\nOne birthday.
\nOne terrible secret.
\nCollins slipped the photograph back into his coat.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re asking the wrong question, Doctor Bennett.\u201d
\nI stepped toward him.
\n\u201cThen tell me the right one.\u201d
\nHis smile disappeared.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should be asking why Margaret Bennett took one baby and left the other behind.\u201d
\nThe words struck me harder than a physical blow.
\nI turned toward Helen.
\n\u201cIs that true?\u201d
\nHelen\u2019s face crumpled.
\n\u201cLucas, please understand. Your mother didn\u2019t have a choice.\u201d
\n\u201cShe had two babies in front of her?\u201d
\n\u201cShe was trying to save both of you!\u201d
\n\u201cThen why did she only take me?\u201d
\nHelen gripped her cane so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
\n\u201cBecause someone had already taken Emily.\u201d
\nSilence.
\nEven Collins stopped smiling.
\nEmily whispered, \u201cWhat?\u201d
\nHelen looked at her with tears in her eyes.
\n\u201cYour birth records were altered before Margaret ever entered the nursery. By the time she arrived, the hospital had already reported that the second child had died.\u201d
\nEmily backed against the wall.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. My parents told me I was adopted when I was three. They said my birth mother couldn\u2019t care for me.\u201d
\nHelen nodded slowly.
\n\u201cThat was the story they were given.\u201d
\n\u201cWho gave it to them?\u201d
\nHelen looked at Collins.
\nHe said nothing.
\nI felt a cold fury rising inside me.
\n\u201cYou arranged her adoption?\u201d
\nCollins straightened his coat.
\n\u201cEverything was done through legal channels.\u201d
\n\u201cWith forged documents?\u201d
\n\u201cYou have no idea what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d
\n\u201cThen explain why you switched the bracelets!\u201d
\nFor the first time, Collins lost his composure.
\n\u201cBecause Eleanor Whitmore was going to destroy everything!\u201d
\nHis voice rang through the corridor.
\nHelen closed her eyes.
\nCollins seemed to realize he\u2019d said too much.
\nHe took a slow breath.
\n\u201cThat woman was unstable.\u201d
\n\u201cStop calling her that,\u201d I said.
\n\u201cYou didn\u2019t know her.\u201d
\n\u201cNeither did you!\u201d
\nHe stepped closer.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you want to know what happened thirty years ago? Fine. Eleanor discovered irregularities in her family\u2019s trust. She threatened to expose people who had spent years building this hospital. There were contracts, investments, careers\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cPeople\u2019s lives,\u201d I interrupted.
\nCollins glared at me.
\n\u201cShe wanted to take everything to the authorities.\u201d
\n\u201cSo you took her children?\u201d
\nHe didn\u2019t answer.
\nAnd his silence told me more than any confession could.
\nEmily suddenly spoke.
\n\u201cDid my adoptive parents know?\u201d
\nCollins looked at her.
\n\u201cYour parents loved you.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s not what I asked.\u201d
\nHis jaw tightened.
\n\u201cNo. They didn\u2019t know.\u201d
\nEmily covered her face.
\nI reached for her hand.
\nShe held on so tightly that it hurt.
\nWe had known each other for only a few weeks.
\nWe had stood beside Alicia\u2019s hospital bed.
\nWe had cried together at her funeral.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
And now we were discovering that our lives had been connected since the first seconds of our existence. \u201cWhich one of us was supposed to die?\u201d My voice echoed through the dark hospital corridor. Richard Collins stood beneath the flickering emergency light, staring at me with an expression … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":253,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-201","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dramastory"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/201","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=201"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/201\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":259,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/201\/revisions\/259"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/253"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=201"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=201"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storymerausa.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=201"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nBut something still bothered me.
\nIf Emily was my twin sister, why had Alicia never told either of us?
\nWhy had she left us to discover it in a dark hospital basement?
\nI turned toward Helen.
\n\u201cDid Alicia know?\u201d
\nHelen hesitated.
\n\u201cShe suspected.\u201d
\n\u201cSuspected what?\u201d
\n\u201cThat Emily\u2019s adoption records and your birth records were connected. But she couldn\u2019t prove it.\u201d
\nI looked at Emily.
\nHer eyes were filled with tears.
\n\u201cAlicia spent her last month asking me questions about my adoption,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI thought she was trying to distract herself from being sick.\u201d
\nHelen nodded.
\n\u201cShe was trying to find the truth without hurting either of you.\u201d
\nI felt my chest tighten.
\nEven in her final days, Alicia had been carrying secrets too heavy for someone so young.
\nBut Helen wasn\u2019t finished.
\n\u201cLucas, there\u2019s something in that suitcase you haven\u2019t seen.\u201d
\nI looked down.
\nThe brown leather suitcase was still beside my feet.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cA small red envelope. Margaret hid it beneath the lining.\u201d
\nI knelt and opened the suitcase.
\nMy fingers searched beneath the worn fabric.
\nThere was a faint tearing sound.
\nThen I felt paper.
\nI pulled out a red envelope.
\nAcross the front, in Margaret\u2019s handwriting, were four words.
\n\u201cFOR BOTH MY CHILDREN.\u201d
\nI stared at them.
\nBoth.
\nNot just me.
\nEmily knelt beside me.
\n\u201cOpen it,\u201d she whispered.
\nInside were two letters.
\nOne addressed to Lucas.
\nThe other addressed to Emily.
\nMy throat tightened.
\nI handed Emily hers.
\nShe unfolded it with trembling fingers.
\nI opened mine.
\n\u201cLucas, my precious boy,
\nIf you\u2019re reading this beside Emily, then perhaps the day I prayed for has finally arrived.
\nI know you must have questions.
\nI know you may even be angry with me.
\nBut please believe that I never wanted you to grow up without knowing your sister.
\nI spent years searching for her.
\nEvery time I thought I was close, the records disappeared, witnesses changed their stories, or someone warned me to stop.
\nI was afraid that if I kept looking, they would find you too.
\nAnd I couldn\u2019t bear to lose another child.\u201d
\nMy eyes blurred.
\nI continued.
\n\u201cEmily was never forgotten.
\nEvery birthday, I bought two presents.
\nOne for you.
\nOne for the little girl I couldn\u2019t find.
\nI kept hers in a wooden chest beneath my bed.
\nI always imagined that one day, when you were both safe, I would finally give them to her.
\nPlease forgive me for taking so long.\u201d
\nI lowered the letter.
\nA memory came rushing back.
\nThe wooden chest.
\nI remembered it.
\nMargaret had kept a small cedar chest in her bedroom.
\nWhenever I asked what was inside, she\u2019d smiled sadly and said, \u201cSomething for someone I hope to meet someday.\u201d
\nAfter she died, I\u2019d put it in storage.
\nI had never opened it.
\nEmily was crying beside me.
\nShe held her letter against her chest.
\n\u201cWhat does yours say?\u201d I whispered.
\nShe looked at me.
\n\u201cShe said she loved me before she ever held me.\u201d
\nHer voice broke.
\n\u201cShe said she used to imagine what kind of woman I would become.\u201d
\nI wrapped my arms around her.
\nAnd for one brief moment, the hospital, Collins, and the terrible secrets disappeared.
\nI was holding my sister.
\nMy twin sister.
\nThe person who had been missing from my life for thirty years.
\nBut the moment didn\u2019t last.
\nA loud metallic click came from behind us.
\nCollins had locked the corridor door.
\nHelen turned sharply.
\n\u201cRichard, what are you doing?\u201d
\nHe slipped the keys into his pocket.
\n\u201cPreventing another disaster.\u201d
\nI stood.
\n\u201cOpen the door.\u201d
\nHe ignored me.
\nInstead, he pulled out his phone.
\n\u201cI have people coming who can explain this properly.\u201d
\n\u201cHospital security?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cPeople who understand the situation.\u201d
\nEmily grabbed my arm.
\n\u201cLucas, we need to leave.\u201d
\nI looked at Helen.
\n\u201cIs there another way out?\u201d
\nShe nodded toward the old laundry corridor.
\nBut Collins moved to block it.
\n\u201cNobody is going anywhere until we settle this.\u201d
\nI stepped forward.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re not keeping us here.\u201d
\nHe looked directly into my eyes.
\n\u201cYour mother said the same thing eleven years ago.\u201d
\nThe words hit me like ice.
\n\u201cWhat did you just say?\u201d
\nCollins froze.
\nHelen stared at him.
\n\u201cRichard\u2026\u201d
\nI moved closer.
\n\u201cDid you see Margaret the night she died?\u201d
\nHe said nothing.
\n\u201cDid you follow her into the stairwell?\u201d
\n\u201cLucas, calm down.\u201d
\n\u201cANSWER ME!\u201d
\nHis face hardened.
\n\u201cYour mother was going to ruin this hospital over something that happened decades earlier.\u201d
\n\u201cShe was going to expose you.\u201d
\n\u201cShe was going to destroy lives!\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you killed her?\u201d
\nThe silence that followed was unbearable.
\nThen Collins whispered, \u201cI never intended for her to fall.\u201d
\nEmily gasped.
\nHelen dropped her cane.
\nIt struck the floor with a sharp crack.
\nI felt the blood drain from my face.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nCollins rubbed his forehead.
\n\u201cShe had the documents. I tried to take them. She pulled away.\u201d
\nMy hands began shaking.
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cShe lost her balance.\u201d
\nI stared at him.
\nFor eleven years, I\u2019d pictured Margaret alone on those stairs.
\nNow I knew someone else had been there.
\nSomeone who had watched her fall.
\n\u201cDid you call for help?\u201d
\nCollins looked away.
\n\u201cRichard,\u201d Helen whispered, \u201cdid you call for help?\u201d
\nHe didn\u2019t answer.
\nI felt something inside me break.
\n\u201cShe was alive, wasn\u2019t she?\u201d
\nHis silence was answer enough.
\nI took another step toward him.
\n\u201cYou left her there.\u201d
\n\u201cLucas\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cYou left my mother dying on the stairs!\u201d
\nMy voice cracked.
\nI wanted to grab him.
\nI wanted to make him feel even a fraction of what I\u2019d felt when the hospital called me that night.
\nBut then I heard Margaret\u2019s voice in my memory.
\n\u201cBeing angry is easy, sweetheart. Doing the right thing when you\u2019re angry is what makes you strong.\u201d
\nI stopped.
\nI looked at the phone in my hand.
\nThe recording application was running.
\nIt had been running since Collins appeared in the corridor.
\nEvery word.
\nEvery admission.
\nRecorded.
\nI held up the screen.
\n\u201cThank you, Dr. Collins.\u201d
\nHis face changed.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cYou just told us what happened to my mother.\u201d
\nHe lunged toward me.
\nI stepped backward.
\nEmily screamed.
\nCollins grabbed my wrist, trying to take the phone.
\nWe struggled for a moment.
\nThen Helen struck the emergency alarm button beside the door.
\nA piercing siren filled the corridor.
\nRed lights began flashing.
\nCollins released me.
\n\u201cWhat have you done?\u201d
\nHelen stood straight, gripping her cane.
\n\u201cSomething I should have done eleven years ago.\u201d
\nWithin seconds, footsteps thundered overhead.
\nI grabbed the suitcase and pulled Emily toward the emergency exit.
\nThis time, the alarm had released the magnetic lock.
\nWe stumbled into the stairwell.
\nBehind us, Collins shouted, \u201cYou don\u2019t understand! Eleanor is still alive!\u201d
\nI stopped.
\nMy heart seemed to miss a beat.
\nI turned.
\nHe stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.
\n\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d
\nCollins looked suddenly exhausted.
\n\u201cYour biological mother. Eleanor.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere is she?\u201d
\nHe swallowed.
\n\u201cAt the facility in the photograph.\u201d
\n\u201cIs she being held there?\u201d
\nHe hesitated.
\n\u201cShe was admitted under a different name.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nHis eyes shifted toward Helen.
\n\u201cBecause after the birth, she suffered a severe medical crisis. She couldn\u2019t remember everything that happened.\u201d
\nHelen shook her head.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s not the whole story, Richard.\u201d
\nCollins looked at me.
\n\u201cShe\u2019s been told for thirty years that both her babies died.\u201d
\nMy knees nearly gave out.
\nBoth.
\nFor thirty years, my biological mother had believed her children were dead.
\nWhile Emily and I had been living separate lives.
\nWhile Margaret had been trying to reunite us.
\nWhile Alicia had spent her final days uncovering the truth.
\nI gripped the railing.
\n\u201cWhat\u2019s her name now?\u201d
\nCollins hesitated.
\nThen he whispered, \u201cEleanor Hayes.\u201d
\nHelen gasped.
\nI turned toward her.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nShe looked terrified.
\n\u201cLucas, that name\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cWhat about it?\u201d
\nHelen reached into her coat.
\nShe pulled out a photograph Alicia had given her three weeks earlier.
\nIt showed an elderly woman sitting beside a garden window.
\nHer hands were folded neatly in her lap.
\nHer green eyes looked tired.
\nBut there was something familiar about her face.
\nHelen turned the photograph over.
\nOn the back, Alicia had written:
\n\u201cMrs. Hayes. Room 14. She remembers the lullaby.\u201d
\nI stared at the words.
\n\u201cWhat lullaby?\u201d
\nHelen\u2019s eyes filled with tears.
\n\u201cMargaret used to sing a song to you when you were little. Eleanor sang the same song to both of you before you were separated.\u201d
\nMy breath caught.
\nI remembered that song.
\nMargaret sang it whenever I was frightened.
\n\u201cClose your eyes, my little star,
\nLove will find you where you are\u2026\u201d
\nI couldn\u2019t finish.
\nEmily suddenly began crying harder.
\n\u201cLucas\u2026\u201d
\nI turned.
\nShe was staring at me.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s the song Alicia used to sing when we were children.\u201d
\nMy heart stopped.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nEmily wiped her face.
\n\u201cOur adoptive mother used to sing it to us. Alicia learned it from her. She said it made her feel safe.\u201d
\nI looked at Helen.
\nShe nodded slowly.
\n\u201cEmily\u2019s adoptive parents may have been given more than adoption papers. Someone may have passed along details Eleanor wanted her children to remember.\u201d
\nSuddenly, Alicia\u2019s last wish felt even more heartbreaking.
\nShe had spent her final days trying to bring a broken family back together.
\nA family she had somehow become part of.
\nBut I still didn\u2019t understand one thing.
\n\u201cWhy did Alicia wait until after she died to give me the box?\u201d
\nHelen lowered her eyes.
\n\u201cBecause she was afraid of what Collins would do if he discovered what she\u2019d found.\u201d
\nEmily nodded.
\n\u201cShe made me promise I wouldn\u2019t open it. She said the box belonged to Lucas and that he needed to decide what happened next.\u201d
\nI looked down at the bandage ring still tied around my finger.
\nI had kept it since our wedding.
\nIt was frayed now.
\nAlmost falling apart.
\nBut I couldn\u2019t bring myself to remove it.
\nAlicia had given me two days as her husband.
\nAnd somehow, those two days had changed the rest of my life.
\nWe reached the ground floor just as hospital security officers entered the stairwell.
\nBehind them stood two police officers.
\nHelen raised both hands.
\n\u201cOfficers, I need to report an assault, unlawful confinement, and evidence relating to an old death investigation.\u201d
\nOne officer looked at Collins, who had followed us downstairs.
\n\u201cSir, please stay where you are.\u201d
\nCollins opened his mouth.
\nThen closed it.
\nI handed the officer my phone.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s a recording.\u201d
\nThe officer took it.
\n\u201cWe\u2019ll need your statement.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ll give you everything.\u201d
\nI looked at Emily.
\n\u201cAnd I want protection for my sister.\u201d
\nEmily squeezed my hand.
\nThe officer nodded.
\n\u201cWe\u2019ll document your concerns and arrange for you to speak with an investigator.\u201d
\nFor the first time that night, I felt something close to hope.
\nBut it vanished when Helen\u2019s phone rang.
\nShe looked at the screen.
\nHer face went pale.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s the care facility.\u201d
\nI turned.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nHelen answered.
\n\u201cHello?\u201d
\nShe listened.
\nHer expression changed from confusion to horror.
\n\u201cNo. That\u2019s impossible.\u201d
\nMy stomach tightened.
\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d
\nHelen lowered the phone.
\n\u201cLucas, someone checked Eleanor Hayes out of the facility this afternoon.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cWho?\u201d
\nShe swallowed.
\n\u201cA man claiming to be her legal guardian.\u201d
\nI turned toward Collins.
\nHe looked just as startled as I felt.
\n\u201cWho signed the paperwork?\u201d I demanded.
\nHelen checked the message the facility had sent.
\nHer hands began trembling.
\n\u201cLucas\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cTell me!\u201d
\nShe looked up.
\n\u201cThe guardian\u2019s name was listed as Daniel Whitmore.\u201d
\nI froze.
\nWhitmore.
\nMy biological mother\u2019s family name.
\n\u201cWho is Daniel Whitmore?\u201d
\nCollins suddenly looked frightened.
\nMore frightened than he\u2019d looked when I recorded his confession.
\n\u201cThat can\u2019t be,\u201d he whispered.
\nI stepped toward him.
\n\u201cWho is he?\u201d
\nCollins backed against the wall.
\n\u201cDaniel Whitmore died twenty-eight years ago.\u201d
\nThe corridor went silent.
\nEmily whispered, \u201cThen who took Eleanor?\u201d
\nCollins shook his head.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nBut I could see it in his eyes.
\nHe knew something.
\nSomething he was terrified to say.
\nBefore I could question him again, my phone vibrated.
\nAn unknown number.
\nA text message.
\n\u201cLucas, your mother is safe. If you want to meet her, come alone.\u201d
\nBeneath the message was an address.
\nAn old farmhouse outside the city.
\nAnd a photograph.
\nI opened it.
\nA woman with gray-streaked dark hair sat beside a window.
\nShe was holding a small blue baby blanket.
\nHer green eyes were filled with tears.
\nEleanor.
\nMy biological mother.
\nFor the first time in thirty years, I was looking at a photograph taken of her that very day.
\nThen I noticed something written on the blanket.
\nTwo names.
\nLucas and Emily.
\nMy hands shook.
\nEmily leaned closer.
\n\u201cOh my God.\u201d
\nBut there was more.
\nA second message appeared.
\n\u201cDo not bring the police. There is something about Alicia\u2019s death you need to know first.\u201d
\nMy blood turned cold.
\nAlicia\u2019s death?
\nI stared at the screen.
\nShe had died after her treatments stopped working.
\nI\u2019d been there.
\nI\u2019d seen her medical records.
\nI\u2019d held her hand.
\nWhat could anyone possibly know that I didn\u2019t?
\nA third message arrived.
\n\u201cShe discovered the truth three days before your wedding.\u201d
\nI felt my heart hammering.
\nThen came the final message.
\n\u201cAsk Richard Collins why Alicia\u2019s final blood sample disappeared from the laboratory.\u201d
\nI looked up.
\nCollins was watching me.
\nHis face had turned gray.
\n\u201cLucas,\u201d he whispered, \u201cwhatever that message says, don\u2019t believe it.\u201d
\nI slowly lowered my phone.
\n\u201cWhat happened to Alicia\u2019s blood sample?\u201d
\nCollins said nothing.
\nI stepped closer.
\n\u201cAnswer me.\u201d
\nHe swallowed.
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t order it destroyed.\u201d
\nThe words hung between us.
\nDestroyed?
\nI hadn\u2019t said destroyed.
\nI had only asked what happened.
\nHelen looked at Collins in horror.
\n\u201cRichard, what have you done?\u201d
\nHe shook his head.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re all looking at the wrong person.\u201d
\nI felt my entire body go cold.
\n\u201cThen who should we be looking at?\u201d
\nCollins stared at Emily.
\nAnd for one terrible second, I thought he was going to accuse my sister.
\nBut instead, he whispered a name.
\n\u201cDaniel Whitmore.\u201d
\nI looked at my phone.
\nThe old farmhouse.
\nThe woman with my eyes.
\nThe blue blanket.
\nAnd the mysterious man who had supposedly been dead for twenty-eight years.
\nI knew I should wait for the police.
\nI knew I should hand over the messages.
\nI knew that walking into another stranger\u2019s trap could destroy everything Alicia and Margaret had sacrificed to protect.
\nBut then I noticed something in the photograph.
\nSomething so small that I almost missed it.
\nEleanor was holding a piece of paper beneath the blanket.
\nOnly three words were visible.
\nThey were written in Alicia\u2019s unmistakable handwriting.
\n\u201cPLEASE FORGIVE ME.\u201d
\nI enlarged the image.
\nMy hands began shaking.
\nBecause beneath those words was a date.
\nThe day after Alicia\u2019s funeral.
\nA date when Alicia was already dead.
\nI looked at Emily.
\n\u201cSomeone is using Alicia\u2019s handwriting.\u201d
\nShe stared at the screen.
\n\u201cLucas, that\u2019s not possible.\u201d
\nBut then her expression changed.
\nShe reached into her handbag and pulled out Alicia\u2019s old notebook.
\n\u201cI found this in her hospital drawer,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI didn\u2019t think it mattered.\u201d
\nShe opened it to the final page.
\nAnd there, written in the same uneven handwriting, was a sentence that made both of us go completely silent.
\n\u201cIf Lucas ever finds Eleanor, tell him the man pretending to help us is the one who started everything.\u201d
\nUnderneath, Alicia had written a name.
\nNot Richard Collins.
\nNot Daniel Whitmore.
\nA name I recognized from the hospital.
\nA name belonging to someone I had trusted with Alicia\u2019s life.
\nSomeone who had stood beside me at our wedding.
\nSomeone who had comforted me after her death.
\nI read it once.
\nThen again.
\nMy stomach dropped.
\nDR. SAMUEL REED.<\/strong>
\nAlicia\u2019s oncologist.
\nMy mentor.
\nThe man who had told me there was nothing more anyone could do to save her.
\nAnd just as I whispered his name, my phone rang.
\nThe caller ID appeared.
\nDR. SAMUEL REED.<\/strong>
\nI answered with trembling hands.
\nBefore I could speak, he said quietly:
\n\u201cLucas, I see you\u2019ve finally found your real mother. Now put Emily on the phone. There\u2019s something about Alicia\u2019s final three days that neither of you knows.\u201d<\/strong>
\nTO BE CONTINUED IN PART 5\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026.<\/strong><\/p>\nClick Here to continuous Read\u200b\u200b\u200b\u200b Full Ending Story\ud83d\udc49:PART 5 \u2014 FINAL PART: THE LAST GIFT FROM MY DYING WIFE<\/a><\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"