Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN WHO KEPT THE SILVER WATCH
Vanessa folded the newspaper clipping before I could finish reading it.
"My father spent years protecting your family from that scandal," she told Vincent.
Vincent's expression darkened.
"My family?"
"Elizabeth was seriously ill. She was confused about what happened during Daniel's delivery."
I stepped forward.
"Then why was my mother dismissed?"
Vanessa looked at me.
"Because Margaret Bennett refused to accept the hospital's findings."
"Which findings?"
"That the missing registration page was an administrative mistake."
Vincent took the clipping from her.
"Then why wasn't Elizabeth informed?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"She was."
Vincent shook his head.
"No. She wasn't."
Something in his certainty made Vanessa look away.
"My wife spent two years asking me why the hospital records didn't match her memories," he continued. "Her doctors told me it was anxiety."
Vanessa's voice softened.
"Vincent, you know how fragile Elizabeth became."
"She was frightened. That isn't the same thing."
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely wounded.
"I was trying to spare you."
"By threatening my son?"
She lowered her eyes.
"I didn't threaten him."
"Then you can explain why he believes you intend to send him away."
Vanessa said nothing.
Vincent turned to Marco.
"See that Miss Laurent has a car available. The engagement celebration is over."
Vanessa stared at him.
"You cannot dismiss me like a servant."
"No," Vincent replied. "I'm asking you to leave as the woman I had intended to marry."
Her face crumpled for one brief second.
Then she straightened.
"My father will not appreciate this."
"Your father can speak to me himself."
Vanessa walked away without another word.
But as she passed me, she whispered, "Your mother tried to save Elizabeth. It cost her everything."
I watched her disappear through the ballroom doors.
That didn't sound like a threat.
It sounded almost like regret.
An hour later, Marco drove me to my small apartment in South Philadelphia.
I went straight to my bedroom closet.
Mom's winter coat still hung inside a protective garment bag.
Dark blue wool.
Worn cuffs.
A loose button she'd never bothered repairing.
I pressed the fabric against my face.
For a moment, I remembered her standing in our kitchen, making soup after a twelve-hour shift.
Then I reached into the inside pocket.
The envelope was still there.
So was her silver watch.
The watch had stopped at 4:16.
I opened the envelope carefully.
Inside were three things.
A handwritten letter.
A photograph of the maternity ward.
And a narrow strip of paper bearing two sets of numbers.
The letter began:
Rachel, if anyone ever asks about the Moretti child, please understand that I did not steal anything.
My throat tightened.
I refused to sign a correction because the correction was false. But the people who ordered it had powerful friends.
I continued reading.
Elizabeth knew something was wrong. She asked me to protect a record until she could prove what happened.
The next line made my stomach sink.
The original record was hidden where no administrator would think to look.
I studied the strip of numbers.
One sequence resembled a hospital file reference.
The other was followed by the initials E.M.
Elizabeth Moretti.
But there was another sentence.
If Charles Laurent claims the baby was switched, don't believe him. The deception was never about which child Elizabeth delivered.
I read that sentence three times.
Vincent had been led to question whether Daniel was his son.
But Mom was saying something entirely different.
My phone vibrated.
Marco had sent a message asking whether I was ready.
I gathered the papers.
Then I noticed a faint mark beneath the envelope flap.
A small drawing.
A blue star.
My mother used to draw stars on my birthday cards.
But this one was accompanied by a date.
Two days after Daniel's birth.
And beneath it was a name.
Samuel.
I couldn't understand why another child's name appeared there.
I searched the envelope again.
Nothing.
Then the watch slipped from my hand.
Its loose back cover opened when it struck the carpet.
Inside, folded into a tiny square, was a second piece of paper.
A hospital identification label.
I unfolded it with shaking fingers.
It read:
SAMUEL MORETTI — INFANT MALE — MATERNITY TRANSFER AUTHORIZED BY DR. CHARLES LAURENT.
May you like
There had been another Moretti baby.
And nobody had told Vincent.
