Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Knew EverythingThe search warrant was executed that afternoon.
Detective Bennett called me from the hallway.
"We found financial records."
"About me?"
"About the transplant."
My heart pounded.
"What kind of records?"
"Payments."
"To whom?"
"Northbridge Medical Brokerage."
I closed my eyes.
"How much?"
"Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
I opened my eyes.
"Why?"
"We don't know yet."
"Could that have been for Maya's treatment?"
"No."
Her voice was firm.
"It was transferred two days before your surgery."
My hands went cold.
"To whom?"
"We're tracing the account."
Then she said:
"We also found something that may matter more."
"What?"
"A second donor."
I frowned.
"What second donor?"
"Your father had been negotiating with another person."
"Who?"
"Your biological mother."
I stopped breathing.
"My mother is dead."
Detective Bennett paused.
"That's what we thought."
The phone nearly slipped from my hand.
"What did you say?"
"We found correspondence between your father and a woman named Claire Morgan."
My mother's maiden name.
I whispered:
"Claire Morgan was my mother."
"Yes."
"She's dead."
"Your father has maintained that for twenty-one years."
I stared at the wall.
There had always been a strange story surrounding my mother's death.
A car accident.
Rain.
A wet road.
No witnesses.
I had been eight years old.
My father told me she died instantly.
There had been no funeral I could remember.
No open casket.
Only a photograph on the mantel.
I had never questioned it.
Until now.
"Where is she?"
Detective Bennett lowered her voice.
"We don't know yet."
The door opened.
Dr. Evans entered.
He took one look at my face.
"What happened?"
I handed him the phone.
He listened.
Then he looked at me.
"Are you sure you're strong enough for this?"
"No."
I took a breath.
"But I need the truth."
That evening, Detective Bennett returned.
This time she brought a woman.
The woman was around sixty.
Gray hair.
Tired eyes.
A small scar above her eyebrow.
She stood in the doorway.
I stared at her.
She stared at me.
Then she began crying.
"Oh, Anna."
My heart stopped.
Nobody had called me that way since I was a child.
Only my mother had.
"Mom?"
She covered her mouth.
I started shaking.
Detective Bennett closed the door.
"Her legal name is Claire Morgan."
My mother took one step forward.
I couldn't move.
She stopped beside the bed.
"I wanted to come to you years ago."
"Why didn't you?"
Her face collapsed.
"Because your father told me you would hate me."
"Why?"
"He said you believed I abandoned you."
"I thought you were dead."
She looked down.
"I know."
I stared at her.
"Did you let him tell me you were dead?"
"No."
Her voice broke.
"I thought he would kill me."
Silence.
My mother explained everything.
She had not died.
Twenty-one years earlier, she discovered that Richard was involved in financial fraud through one of his companies.
She threatened to expose him.
He threatened her.
When she tried to leave with me, he used his connections to have her declared unstable.
Then came the car accident.
He told everyone she had died.
But she survived.
Barely.
She spent years recovering under another identity.
"Why didn't you come back?"
"I tried."
She looked at me.
"Every time I got close, Richard found me."
I felt tears running down my face.
"Why now?"
"Because I heard you were donating your kidney."
I stared at her.
"I wanted to stop it."
"But you didn't."
She closed her eyes.
"I tried."
Her voice trembled.
"I contacted the hospital anonymously."
Dr. Evans looked at her.
"That was you?"
She nodded.
"I told them Richard was manipulating you."
I looked at Dr. Evans.
He nodded slowly.
"That anonymous warning triggered the additional review."
My mother took my hand.
Her fingers were cold.
"I was too late."
I cried.
Not because she had returned.
Not because my father had lied.
But because I realized that two people had known I was in danger.
One had tried to save me.
The other had pushed me toward the operating room.
My mother leaned closer.
"There is something you need to know."
"What?"
"Your sister wasn't supposed to receive your kidney."
I froze.
"Then who was?"
She looked toward the door.
"Richard."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"He was supposed to receive it."
My heart stopped.
"He had kidney disease."
Dr. Evans stood abruptly.
"That's impossible."
My mother shook her head.
"He was diagnosed months ago."
I looked at her.
"Then why Maya?"
"Because his condition was getting worse."
She took a shaky breath.
"But the transplant committee would never approve him as a recipient through the arrangement your father wanted."
"What arrangement?"
She looked directly at me.
"He wanted your kidney sold."
The room went silent.
"To himself."
I couldn't speak.
My mother continued.
"When the doctors discovered the recipient was medically unsuitable, Richard changed the plan."
"To Maya."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she was the only person whose medical records could be manipulated without immediately raising suspicion."
My stomach turned.
My mother squeezed my hand.
"But that wasn't the worst part."
I looked at her.
"What was?"
May you like
She whispered:
"Your kidney was worth far more to your father than you ever realized."
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