Chapter 15 - The Calloway Women|
Lily did not immediately embrace the family that had discovered her.
She asked for copies of every document, insisted on an independent genetic test, and refused Daniel's offer to arrange private security until her own attorney reviewed the situation.
Anna respected her for it.
They were alike in the ways that mattered: both had been given a history that turned out to be incomplete, and both understood that discovering the truth did not automatically create trust.
The genetic test confirmed that Lily was Catherine's daughter and Daniel's cousin.
It also established that Anna and Lily were related through the Calloway family.
For Lily, the result brought no instant sense of belonging.
“My adoptive parents loved me,” she said during a meeting in Rachel's office. “They never lied about the fact that I was adopted. They simply believed the information they were given.”
“They did the best they could with what they knew,” Anna replied.
“And my biological family made decisions without considering what I might want.”
Anna nodded.
“I understand that feeling.”
Lily looked at her for a moment.
“Then you understand why I won't let anyone tell me what to do next.”
“No one should.”
They began investigating Catherine's disappearance through public records and the papers left by Margaret Calloway. The trail led to a small charitable clinic in Wisconsin, where Catherine had worked under a different name for several years.
The clinic had closed, but a former administrator remembered a woman who had arrived with a young child and asked for help changing identities.
“She was afraid of someone powerful,” the administrator said. “She never used the same name twice.”
“Did she leave voluntarily?” Rachel asked.
“I believe so. But she was being watched.”
The administrator produced a letter that Catherine had left in a locked filing cabinet.
It was addressed to Lily.
My darling girl, if you ever read this, know that I did not abandon you. I left you with people who could protect you because I believed the danger would pass. I have spent every day trying to find a way back to you.
The letter contained a final address.
A women's shelter in Oregon.
The shelter had closed, but its records had been transferred to a nonprofit organization. Rachel obtained the archived file through the proper channels.
The records showed that Catherine had lived under the name Catherine Reed for nearly a decade. She had volunteered at the shelter, helped other women rebuild their lives, and left after receiving a letter warning her that Lily's safety depended on her remaining hidden.
The letter had no signature.
Its return address belonged to a company controlled by Victor Hale.
Lily read the document with a rigid expression.
“He separated my mother from me.”
“Possibly,” Rachel said. “We need to establish who sent the letter and whether Catherine believed the threat was genuine.”
Lily looked at Anna.
“If she's alive, I want to find her.”
“We'll help,” Anna said. “But the choice will be yours.”
Meanwhile, Daniel provided investigators with financial records showing that Victor had used charitable organizations to conceal payments to former security personnel. Several transactions matched dates associated with Elena's accident and Thomas's death.
Edward agreed to surrender additional records and answer questions about the organization's activities.
His decision did not erase his role in the cover-up, but it gave investigators a clearer picture of the network Victor had built.
One evening, Anna received a call from Daniel.
“There's something else you should know.”
She closed her laptop.
“What now?”
“My father wants to step down from the legitimate businesses and cooperate with the investigation. He has also offered to testify about Victor.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because he wants you to know he isn't asking you to protect him.”
Anna was quiet.
“Does he understand that cooperation doesn't guarantee immunity?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Daniel hesitated.
“And I want to tell you something without asking for anything in return.”
She waited.
“I loved you. I still do. But I know that doesn't give me a right to ask you to come back.”
For the first time, the words did not sound like a strategy.
Anna looked out at the Chicago skyline.
“I believe you loved me. I also believe you hurt me in ways you may never fully understand.”
“I know.”
“I can't promise what I'll feel in a year.”
“I won't ask you to.”
She ended the call gently.
That night, Lily received an email from an unknown address.
It contained a recent photograph of a woman sitting on a bench outside a coastal library.
The woman looked older, thinner, and more fragile than the photographs of Catherine.
But Lily recognized her mother's face.
May you like
Beneath the image was a single sentence.
If you want to see her alive, come alone.
