Chapter 6 - THE LIE THAT STOLE TWO FAMILIES
Emma didn't cry.
That frightened Margaret more than anything.
Her daughter simply stood beside the open cabinet, holding the photograph as though it belonged to someone else.
"You're telling me I'm adopted."
Margaret nodded.
"Yes."
"And you waited twenty-eight years to tell me."
"We were trying to protect you."
Emma laughed once.
It was a terrible sound.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Adrian stood several feet away, looking almost as shaken as she felt.
His mother.
Her birth mother.
The same woman.
The implication was impossible to ignore.
"Does that mean..." Emma began.
Margaret shook her head quickly.
"No."
Adrian looked up.
"What?"
Margaret wiped her cheeks.
"Catherine wasn't Adrian's biological mother."
Silence.
Adrian stared at her.
"Explain."
Margaret took a breath.
"Vincent Vale married Catherine when Adrian was six. She raised him, but she didn't give birth to him."
Adrian looked away.
He knew that much.
His biological mother had died when he was a toddler.
But hearing Margaret speak about Catherine as someone else's mother made the past feel even more complicated.
Emma gripped the edge of the cabinet.
"So Catherine gave birth to me?"
"Yes."
"And Owen adopted me?"
"Yes. Legally, through an emergency placement that was later sealed."
"Why?"
Margaret looked toward Detective Ortiz.
"Because Catherine was trying to escape Vincent."
Adrian closed his eyes.
The room seemed to shrink around him.
Margaret continued.
"She had discovered that Vincent was using his freight companies to move stolen medical supplies and launder money through shell charities."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
He said nothing.
Margaret looked at Emma.
"Catherine wanted to testify. She had documents. Names. Financial records."
"What happened?"
"Vincent found out."
Emma stared.
"So she gave me away?"
"She placed you with people she trusted."
"Owen."
Margaret nodded.
"He had treated her after an accident. She knew he wouldn't betray her."
Emma's voice trembled.
"Did she love me?"
Margaret began crying again.
"More than anything."
The words broke something inside Emma.
She turned away.
For twenty-eight years, she had believed Owen and Margaret Lawson were the only parents she had ever known.
Now she had another mother.
A woman who might still be alive.
A woman who had vanished into the same darkness that swallowed Owen.
Adrian approached carefully.
"Emma."
"Don't."
He stopped.
She looked at him.
"Did you know?"
"No."
"Did your father know where I was?"
"I don't know."
"Did George Kessler?"
Adrian's silence answered her.
Emma looked at the silver hawk symbol on the key.
The same ring.
The same man.
The same fifteen-year nightmare.
Detective Ortiz opened the sealed envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Addressed to Adrian.
The detective read it aloud with his permission.
Adrian, if you're reading this, I failed to tell you the truth when I had the chance.
Your father is not the man you believe him to be.
He has threatened Catherine, and I believe he intends to kill her.
I am taking steps to protect the child. If anything happens to me, find the recording.
Do not trust the man wearing the hawk.
Owen Lawson.
Adrian sat down heavily.
His father had been dead for fifteen years.
Yet somehow, the man's cruelty was still destroying lives.
Ortiz placed the cassette tape into an evidence bag.
"We'll have the recording examined and digitized."
Emma looked at her.
"How long?"
"As quickly as possible."
"People are dying."
"I know."
Adrian stood.
"Detective, Kessler is still running part of my business."
Ortiz nodded.
"Then we need to keep him from knowing what we found."
Adrian looked at the photograph.
"That may already be impossible."
His phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
He answered.
A woman's voice spoke.
Older.
Faint.
But unmistakable.
"Adrian?"
He froze.
"Catherine?"
A long silence.
Then the woman began crying.
"My sweet boy."
Adrian gripped the phone.
"Where are you?"
"I don't have much time."
"Tell me where you are."
"Don't trust George."
Adrian closed his eyes.
"I know."
"No, Adrian."
Her voice broke.
"You don't understand."
A noise sounded behind her.
A door opening.
Then she whispered something that made his blood turn cold.
May you like
"George isn't the one giving the orders."
The line went dead.
