Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
I stared at the message.
The number had a local area code.
No name.
No photograph.
Nothing that explained how this stranger knew where I was or what had happened.
I typed one question.
WHO ARE YOU?
The response arrived almost immediately.
MY NAME IS ELIZABETH MORGAN.
I WAS THE RECORDS SUPERVISOR.
I NEED TO SPEAK WITH YOU WITHOUT YOUR HUSBAND PRESENT.
My heart began pounding.
I looked toward Ryan.
He was speaking quietly with Lauren near the front pew.
My mother hovered beside them.
Three people who had spent months insisting I was imagining things.
Three people who now seemed terrified of a piece of paper.
I stepped away from the crowd.
Rachel was waiting outside with Amelia.
My daughter sat on a stone bench, swinging her feet.
The moment she saw me, she jumped up.
"Mommy?"
I hugged her.
"I'm here."
She looked past me.
"Are you mad?"
The question hurt more than I expected.
"Not at you."
She studied my face.
"Even though I stopped the wedding?"
I brushed loose hair away from her forehead.
"Sweetheart, adults are responsible for their own decisions."
"But Daddy said I embarrassed him."
I held her shoulders.
"You told the truth about something that hurt you."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Was that wrong?"
"No."
I hugged her again.
"But you never have to carry grown-up problems alone."
She nodded against my shoulder.
I looked at Rachel.
"Can you take Amelia home?"
Rachel glanced toward the sanctuary.
"What about you?"
"I need to make a phone call."
"To whom?"
I showed her the message.
Her expression changed.
"Annie, don't meet anyone alone."
"I'm not planning to."
I called the number.
A woman answered on the second ring.
"Mrs. Bennett?"
"Who is this?"
"Elizabeth Morgan."
Her voice sounded exhausted.
Older.
And frightened.
"How did you get my number?"
"Your cousin contacted the clinic yesterday."
I looked at Rachel.
She nodded.
"Amelia asked me to help her understand the letter."
I stared at her.
"You knew?"
"Not about all of it."
Rachel's voice trembled.
"I knew your daughter was worried, and I didn't want her trying to investigate adults by herself."
I turned back to the phone.
"Ms. Morgan, what is going on?"
There was a pause.
"First, I need to know whether you still have the original letter."
"Yes."
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because several entries in your medical record were flagged for review after we found inconsistent authorizations."
My mouth went dry.
"What entries?"
"I can't discuss your records over an unverified call."
"Then tell me how to get them."
"Contact the clinic through the number on its official website and request your complete records, including amendment histories and correspondence logs."
I looked down at the envelope.
"Was my husband involved?"
Another silence.
"I can't tell you that without proper verification."
"Please."
My voice cracked.
"I lost my child."
The woman inhaled slowly.
"I'm very sorry."
I pressed my eyes shut.
"Was there something wrong with my baby?"
"I cannot answer that question from the information I personally reviewed."
Her honesty frightened me more than a dramatic accusation would have.
She wasn't telling me that my baby could have survived.
She wasn't claiming someone had caused the loss.
She was telling me that records had been changed.
And that somebody had tried to prevent me from learning about it.
"Why contact me now?"
"Because I learned that correspondence addressed to you may never have reached you."
"How?"
"An internal review."
"Why didn't someone call me?"
"We attempted to contact you through the information on file."
I thought of the envelope in my mother's handwriting.
DO NOT DELIVER.
"Ms. Morgan, I need to ask something."
"Go ahead."
"Did anyone request that information be sent to my mother's house?"
She hesitated.
"That is among the issues requiring verification."
I felt cold.
"Can you tell me one thing?"
"What?"
"Should I be afraid?"
The woman didn't answer immediately.
Then she said, "You should be careful about who has access to your personal documents."
I looked toward the church.
Ryan was standing in the doorway.
Watching me.
He smiled when our eyes met.
Not kindly.
Not warmly.
It was the smile he always wore when he wanted me to believe everything was under control.
Elizabeth spoke again.
"Mrs. Bennett?"
"Yes?"
"Please make copies of everything."
The call ended.
I lowered my phone.
Ryan started walking toward us.
"Annie."
I stepped between him and Amelia.
"What?"
His eyes dropped to the envelope.
"Can we talk?"
"About the letter?"
His smile faltered.
"About our daughter."
Amelia gripped my hand.
Ryan lowered his voice.
"You're going to regret turning this into something bigger than it is."
I looked directly into his eyes.
"For thirteen years, I regretted every time I believed you."
He stared at me.
May you like
I tightened my hold on Amelia's hand.
"That was the last time."
