We returned to the apartment before dark.
My mother barely spoke during the drive.
She sat in the back seat beside me, staring through the window while Rebecca rode with my father.
I could feel there was something she was trying to decide whether to say.
When we arrived, she finally spoke.
“I know who the initial belongs to.”
My father stopped.
“Whose?”
She looked at me.
“Mine.”
Nobody moved.
“What?”
“The note said M.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“It could be me.”
I stared at her.
“You wrote those instructions?”
“No.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
“Because I know who did.”
My father sat across from her.
“Maria, this has gone too far. You need to tell us everything.”
She nodded.
“I will.”
We sat around the kitchen table.
Rebecca stayed beside me.
My mother folded her hands.
“Your grandmother had one person she trusted more than anyone.”
“Mercer?”
“No.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the window.
“My older brother.”
I frowned.
“You never told me you had an older brother.”
“I didn't want you to know.”
“Why?”
“Because he was dangerous.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“What was his name?”
“Michael Bennett.”
My father looked surprised.
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
I had never heard the name.
My mother explained that Michael had controlled much of the family's business after my grandfather died. He handled property, legal agreements, and financial matters.
“He was the one who convinced your grandmother that Elena's pregnancy would destroy the family.”
My stomach tightened.
“So he started the first arrangement.”
“Yes.”
“Did he order the baby to be taken?”
My mother nodded.
“He arranged everything through Mercer and Dr. Rivas.”
Rebecca looked down.
“My entire life was planned by him.”
My mother nodded sadly.
“He believed children could be placed where they were most useful.”
The sentence made my skin crawl.
“What happened to Michael?”
“He disappeared after your grandmother died.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
My father frowned.
“Then how could he be behind the second arrangement?”
My mother hesitated.
“Because he may not have disappeared.”
Silence.
Rebecca asked, “What do you mean?”
My mother reached into the wooden box and removed an old photograph.
It showed three men outside a building.
One was Mercer.
One was Dr. Rivas.
The third was older.
My mother pointed.
“That is Michael.”
I studied the photograph.
He looked familiar.
Then I realized why.
I had seen him before.
In another photograph.
At my grandmother's house.
“That's him.”
My father looked at me.
“Where?”
“Grandma had a framed picture.”
My mother nodded.
“She kept it hidden.”
Rebecca stared at the photograph.
“Where is he now?”
“We don't know.”
The police were contacted immediately.
The officer took the photograph and began tracing Michael's records.
While we waited, my mother told us what happened on Elena's final night.
“Elena knew something was wrong.”
“What?”
“She had found out that the Rivas family was going to take you.”
Rebecca's face tightened.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't she leave?”
“She tried.”
My mother explained that Elena had planned to escape with the baby.
“She asked me to help.”
“Did you?”
“I tried.”
My mother's voice broke.
“We went to the hospital after midnight.”
“For what?”
“To get the baby.”
My father stared at her.
“What happened?”
“Michael was already there.”
My mother described the scene.
Elena had been weak and frightened.
She begged Michael to leave her child alone.
He refused.
“He told her that the baby would have a better life with the Rivas family.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“What did Elena say?”
“She told him he had no right.”
“And then?”
“Dr. Rivas took the baby.”
Rebecca began crying.
My mother continued.
“Elena screamed.”
I felt tears forming.
“Why didn't anyone stop him?”
My mother looked at Rebecca.
“Because Michael had already threatened everyone.”
She said Elena was told that if she went to the police, the family would destroy her mother's life and send my mother away.
“And me?”
Rebecca whispered.
“You were taken.”
The room remained silent.
My mother looked at me.
“Your grandmother later told everyone you had died.”
Rebecca wiped her face.
“And Elena?”
“She never believed it.”
My mother explained that Elena spent the next three years trying to find her daughter.
“She eventually discovered that the baby had gone to the Rivas family.”
“Then why didn't she take me back?”
“She couldn't prove where you were.”
Rebecca looked toward the diary.
“And Mercer helped hide it.”
“Yes.”
My father asked, “What happened after Elena died?”
My mother stared at the table.
“Michael ordered all the records destroyed.”
“But Elena's letter survived.”
“I kept it.”
“You risked everything.”
My mother nodded.
“I was afraid, but I couldn't destroy her last words.”
I reached across the table.
My mother's hand was cold.
“Why didn't you tell me when I got pregnant?”
“Because Patricia came to me.”
“When?”
“Two days after you told the family.”
My heart sank.
“What did she say?”
“She said Michael was still alive.”
I looked at her.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“She didn't tell me.”
My father stood.
“Why would Patricia work for him?”
My mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Rebecca spoke quietly.
“Maybe because she believes he can protect the trust.”
My mother looked at her.
“Or because he promised her something.”
My phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
Michael isn't hiding.
He's closer than you think.
My father took the phone.
“Don't answer.”
The message was followed by a photograph.
A house.
Our house.
My heart stopped.
The picture had been taken from across the street.
The date stamp showed it had been taken that morning.
Someone had been watching us.
Then another image arrived.
It showed my father leaving the apartment.
Then my mother.
Then Rebecca.
The final photograph was of me.
Standing at the kitchen window.
I felt sick.
“He's been watching us.”
The police officer looked at the images.
“This changes things.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means whoever is sending these messages may not be trying to threaten you.”
Rebecca frowned.
“Then what are they doing?”
The officer enlarged the final image.
“There.”
A reflection appeared in the glass behind me.
A man standing inside the apartment.
I turned toward the kitchen.
Nobody was there.
My father stared at the photograph.
“Who is that?”
My mother whispered the answer.
“Michael.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: The Man We Thought Had Vanished Was Watching From Inside Our Circle, and His Next Move Put My Mother in Immediate Danger
The Morning My Family Turned Against Me Was the Morning I Realized Someone Had Already Decided What Would Happen to My Baby
Part 10 of 20
