Chapter 6: The Name on the Birth Certificate
I couldn't move.
My father's voice had disappeared, but the final sentence continued echoing in my head.
What really happened to your birth certificate.
I looked at my mother.
She was staring at the recorder as if it had become something dangerous.
"Mom?""
She didn't answer.
"Mom, what did Dad mean?""
She pressed her lips together.
David quietly closed his laptop.
"Perhaps we should take a break.""
"No.""
I turned toward him.
"I've had enough breaks. Everyone keeps telling me to wait, to calm down, to have this conversation later. I'm done.""
My mother sat in my father's old chair.
She looked suddenly exhausted.
"Claire, your father loved you.""
I swallowed.
"I know.""
"He was the only father you ever needed.""
"That's not what I asked.""
She looked at the window.
Outside, the city moved as though nothing had happened.
Cars honked. Pedestrians hurried past. Somewhere below, a delivery driver was arguing with a doorman.
Ordinary life.
While mine was falling apart.
My mother finally spoke.
"Your biological father was named Thomas Bennett.""
I blinked.
"Thomas?""
She nodded.
"He was your father's younger brother.""
The room went completely still.
I looked at her.
"Uncle Thomas?""
"Yes.""
I remembered photographs.
A man with dark hair and a crooked smile. A man who had visited us when I was very young and disappeared before I started school.
I'd always been told he moved overseas.
"Why would my uncle be my biological father?""
My mother covered her face.
"Because I was very young when I met your father. Thomas and I were together before I married James.""
James Bennett.
The man who had raised me.
The man whose voice I had just heard.
The man whose photograph still sat on his desk.
I felt sick.
"Did Dad know?""
She nodded.
"He knew before we married.""
"Then why did he raise me?""
"Because he loved me. And because Thomas disappeared.""
"Disappeared where?""
My mother shook her head.
"That's what we never understood.""
I looked at the old photographs on the desk.
"Was Daniel involved?""
"No. Daniel didn't know the full story.""
"How do you know?""
She hesitated.
"Because Richard told me.""
I stared at her.
"Richard?""
She nodded.
"Richard knew Thomas. They were business partners before the companies were divided.""
I slowly sat down.
"You're saying Richard knew my biological father?""
"Yes.""
"Then why would he threaten you?""
My mother looked at the sealed folder bearing my name.
"Because Thomas left something behind.""
David stepped closer.
"Mrs. Bennett, what exactly?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
I opened the folder.
Inside were several documents.
The first was a copy of an old birth certificate.
My name was listed.
My mother's name was listed.
But the father's name had been changed.
There were two versions.
One listed Thomas Bennett.
The other listed James Bennett.
The second document was a hospital record.
The third was a handwritten letter.
I opened it.
James, I know what I'm asking is difficult. But if Richard discovers that Claire is Thomas's daughter, he will use her to gain access to everything Thomas left behind. Keep her safe. Never let him know about the account.
I looked at David.
"What account?""
He examined the document.
"This letter doesn't specify.""
I turned to my mother.
"Did Dad ever mention an account?""
She nodded slowly.
"Once. He said Thomas had left money for a child.""
My heart began pounding.
"For me?""
"I believe so.""
"How much?""
"I don't know.""
David picked up another page.
"This document may help.""
It was an old trust registration.
The beneficiary's name was partially obscured by a stamp.
But the account number was visible.
David examined it.
"Interesting.""
"What?""
"This trust was established before you were born. It appears to have been managed independently.""
"Who managed it?""
David read the name.
"Richard Whitmore.""
I stared at him.
"Richard?""
He nodded.
"Which would explain his interest in your birth records.""
I stood abruptly.
"He stole money meant for me?""
"Possibly. We need to verify the account.""
My mother began crying again.
I walked toward the window.
For years, I'd believed my father had left me a complicated but generous inheritance.
Now I was discovering there might have been an entirely separate fortune connected to my biological father.
And Richard Whitmore had apparently controlled it.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
*Stop digging. Your mother already knows what happened to Thomas.*
I showed David.
His expression hardened.
"Don't respond.""
Another message arrived.
*Ask her what she did at the river.*
I turned slowly toward my mother.
She had seen the screen.
Her face became white.
"Mom?""
She stood.
"Claire, please.""
"What happened at the river?""
She looked toward the door.
Then back at me.
"I didn't hurt anyone.""
I felt a chill travel down my spine.
"Nobody said you did.""
She pressed both hands against her chest.
"Thomas was supposed to meet me the night he disappeared.""
"When?""
"Five years before you were born.""
I stared.
"Why?""
"Because he wanted to tell me something about Richard.""
"What happened?""
She closed her eyes.
"We argued. He told me he'd discovered that Richard was stealing from their business. He said he was going to report him.""
"And?""
"Richard arrived.""
The silence was unbearable.
My mother continued.
"They fought. Thomas fell near the riverbank. I heard him hit his head.""
I covered my mouth.
"Was he dead?""
"I don't know.""
"Mom!""
She began sobbing.
"I panicked. Richard told me Thomas was gone. He said he'd arrange everything.""
I stared at her.
"You left him there?""
"I was terrified. I was pregnant, Claire. I didn't know what to do.""
I stepped backward.
"Did Dad know?""
"Not at first. When I told him years later, he tried to find Thomas. He couldn't.""
"Why didn't he go to the police?""
"He had no proof. Richard had connections. And he warned us that if we spoke, he would destroy our family.""
I looked at David.
He was already writing notes.
"Mrs. Bennett, this is extremely serious.""
My mother nodded.
"I know.""
I turned back to her.
"Why did you let me get close to Daniel?""
She looked confused.
"What?""
"Why did you allow this relationship to continue if Richard had threatened you?""
"I thought Richard had moved on. Daniel seemed different.""
"Different?""
She started crying harder.
"I wanted you to be happy.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone wanted me to be happy. Nobody wanted me to know the truth.""
David closed the folder.
"We need to verify the original birth records and the trust account. We should also preserve this recording and notify the appropriate authorities.""
I nodded.
"Do it.""
My phone rang.
The caller ID showed Daniel.
I answered.
"Hello?""
His voice was strained.
"Claire, where are you?""
"Why?""
"Because you need to come back to the hotel.""
"I'm busy.""
"Richard is furious.""
"That's unfortunate.""
"Listen to me. You don't know what you've opened.""
I looked at the old birth certificate.
"I know enough.""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Your mother isn't telling you everything.""
"Neither are you.""
He exhaled.
"Claire, I can explain.""
"Then explain why your father was managing an account connected to my biological father.""
Silence.
Then Daniel said something unexpected.
"Because the money was never supposed to belong to you.""
I tightened my grip on the phone.
"Who did it belong to?""
"Richard.""
I frowned.
"That makes no sense.""
"It does if you know what Thomas did before he disappeared.""
"What did he do?""
Daniel hesitated.
Then he spoke.
"Thomas didn't just leave an inheritance. He left evidence.""
I looked at David.
"What evidence?""
Daniel's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Evidence that Richard murdered someone.""
My blood ran cold.
"Who?""
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"Your father.""
The phone slipped slightly in my hand.
James Bennett.
The man who had raised me.
The man who had protected me.
The man who had spent years building a life for me.
I couldn't speak.
Daniel continued.
"Richard didn't just arrange your father's death. He made sure the investigation ended before anyone discovered what James had found.""
I closed my eyes.
"Why are you telling me this now?""
"Because I'm trying to save you.""
I almost laughed.
"Save me?""
"Claire, I know what Vanessa did. I know what my father did. But you need to understand that I'm not the one you should be fighting.""
I looked at David.
He was listening carefully.
"Where is Richard now?"" I asked.
"At the hotel.""
"Then stay there.""
"Claire—"
I ended the call.
David immediately spoke.
"That conversation needs to be documented.""
"I know.""
He took out his phone.
"I'll contact the investigator.""
My mother approached me.
"Claire, we need to leave.""
I looked at her.
"Why?""
She pointed toward the hallway.
At the far end of the office corridor, the elevator doors had opened.
A man stepped out.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
Silver watch.
Richard Whitmore.
He was holding a brown envelope.
He looked directly at me.
Then he smiled.
"Claire," he said calmly.
"I believe it's time we stopped pretending.""
David moved in front of me.
"Mr. Whitmore, you need to leave.""
Richard ignored him.
He placed the envelope on my father's desk.
"Before you make another accusation, you should read this.""
I didn't move.
"What is it?""
Richard adjusted his watch.
"Your father's final medical report.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why do you have that?""
He smiled faintly.
"Because James wasn't the only person who knew the truth about your birth.""
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A hospital room.
A newborn baby.
And beside the incubator stood a woman I had never seen before.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written:
*THE WRONG BABY WAS SENT HOME.*
I stared at the words.
Then I looked at Richard.
"What does this mean?""
His smile disappeared.
"It means, Claire, that before you start demanding your inheritance, you should find out whose daughter you really are.""
May you like
And for the first time that day, I realized the secret surrounding my family might be far more complicated than anyone had admitted.
Because if that photograph was genuine, then even the name I'd spent my entire life carrying might not be mine.
