Chapter 5 - The Mother Who RememberedPatricia agreed to meet us at a small diner near the old medical center.
She arrived carrying a leather handbag and a folder that looked as if it had been opened a thousand times. She kept glancing at the door, as though she expected someone to follow her inside.
Gabriel stood when she approached.
“Patricia?”
She stared at him.
Then her hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh, my God.”
He nodded.
“I'm alive.”
She began to cry.
“I prayed you were.”
Lorenzo pulled out a chair.
“Please sit. We need to know where Marianne is.”
Patricia looked at the folder.
“Before I tell you, I need to know that you won't take her away against her wishes.”
Gabriel's face crumpled.
“I would never do that.”
“You don't know what she's been through.”
“Then tell me.”
Patricia explained that Marianne had survived the crash but suffered serious injuries. She had been taken to the private rehabilitation wing under a false identity. Victor's people controlled her access to visitors and correspondence.
For years, she was told that Gabriel had died and that both children had been killed in the accident.
When she recovered enough to challenge the story, the facility's administrators claimed she was suffering from trauma and memory problems.
“They made her believe that nobody would accept her account,” Patricia said. “Every time she asked about her children, someone told her she was confused.”
I thought of Rose.
Two women had been made to doubt their memories. One had been blinded; the other had been isolated. Both had been separated from the people they loved.
“Why didn't you help her escape?” I asked.
Patricia lowered her eyes.
“I tried. Once. I was caught, and I lost my job. They threatened to have me charged with stealing medication. I had two young children. I was afraid.”
Her shame was painful to watch because I recognized it. Fear had kept so many people silent that it had become part of the family's inheritance.
“What happened to Marianne after the facility closed?” Lorenzo asked.
“Some patients were transferred. Marianne was moved to a private residence under the supervision of a doctor who had worked for Victor.”
“Where?”
Patricia slid a piece of paper across the table.
A residential address in Evanston.
“She may not be there anymore,” she warned. “But it's the last address I know.”
Gabriel held the paper as though it were a fragile object.
“Did she ever mention the twins?”
Patricia nodded.
“Every day.”
“What did she say?”
“That Anna had a crescent scar on her wrist. That Ethan had a birthmark behind his right shoulder. She kept asking whether someone had found them.”
Ethan, who had joined us by video call, went silent.
He touched his shoulder unconsciously.
“I have that birthmark,” he whispered.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Patricia continued.
“She also said that one day, a woman would come to her with a silver sparrow.”
I reached for the charm around my neck.
Patricia saw it and gasped.
“That's it.”
I looked at her.
“Marianne gave it to me?”
“She bought it before the accident. She told me it was meant for her daughter.”
I pressed the charm against my chest.
For the first time, I had a piece of my biological mother that wasn't a record, a photograph, or a stranger's memory.
It was something she had chosen for me.
Something she had wanted me to have.
Lorenzo thanked Patricia and arranged for his attorney to protect her from retaliation. Then we drove to Evanston.
The house stood on a quiet residential street. A low brick wall surrounded the property. The curtains were drawn, and a security camera pointed toward the driveway.
Lorenzo's team checked the exterior before we approached the front door.
No one answered.
He knocked again.
A woman's voice came through the intercom.
“Who is it?”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Marianne. It's me.”
Silence.
Then the voice returned, smaller now.
“That's cruel.”
Gabriel's eyes filled.
“It's Gabriel.”
The door opened a few inches.
A woman stood behind it, thin and pale, with gray threaded through her dark hair. Her eyes moved over Gabriel's face, searching for the young man she had loved.
She lifted one trembling hand.
“No.”
Gabriel didn't move closer.
“I'm sorry.”
She stared at him.
“You're dead.”
“I know what they told you.”
“You're dead!”
Her voice cracked.
Then she struck his chest with both fists, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to release years of pain.
“You left me! You left our babies!”
Gabriel stood still and let her hit him.
“I never stopped looking.”
Marianne's hands fell.
Her knees buckled.
He caught her before she reached the floor.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Then Marianne looked past him.
At me.
Her eyes widened.
I stepped forward, the silver sparrow resting in my palm.
“Mom?”
She made a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her.
Then she reached for my face.
“Oh, my baby.”
I began to cry.
She traced my cheek, my forehead, the curve of my jaw. When her fingers found the crescent scar on my wrist, she covered her mouth.
“Anna.”
I nodded.
“I'm Emma now.”
Marianne pulled me into her arms.
“Then Emma is my daughter, too.”
I clung to her, crying so hard I could barely breathe.
Behind us, Lorenzo turned away to give us privacy.
But the reunion was interrupted by the sound of tires on gravel.
A black SUV had stopped at the curb.
Two men stepped out.
One held up a badge.
“Marianne Bell?”
She went rigid in my arms.
The man looked toward Gabriel.
“Mr. Vitale, we need you and your family to come with us.”
Lorenzo moved between them and the door.
“Who are you?”
The man lowered his badge just enough for Lorenzo to see the name.
Federal Bureau of Investigation.
“We have a warrant,” he said.
May you like
Then he looked directly at me.
“Emma Hayes, you're also required to answer questions about a murder investigation.”
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