Chapter 4 - Dominic Asked Me Why My Real Name Was Hidden—And I Finally Learned Why My Mother Chose My Life for Me
My hands went cold.
I had spent twenty-eight years as Anna Reed.
The name was on my birth certificate.
My school records.
My nursing license.
Every piece of my life.
But suddenly a stranger had told me it wasn't real.
Dominic looked at the note.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
He studied me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then someone has been hiding your identity.”
I laughed nervously.
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“So does everything happening in this hospital.”
He was right.
I contacted the state records office.
There was no record under my mother's maiden name.
There was no record of my birth in the hospital where I had supposedly been delivered.
My foster records had been sealed.
My entire childhood was a collection of documents someone had assembled.
I stared at Dominic.
“What if I don't exist?”
He looked at me.
“You exist.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
He reached for my hand.
“You exist to me.”
That wasn't what I needed.
But it helped.
My adoptive records finally arrived.
My mother's name was listed as Elena Reed.
My father was unknown.
The placement date was three weeks after my supposed birth.
I searched Elena Reed.
Nothing.
Dominic looked at the papers.
“Anna.”
“What?”
“Your mother wasn't Elena Reed.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I knew her.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What was her name?”
“Maria Costa.”
I stared.
Costa.
The name appeared everywhere in Dominic's world.
“You're related.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“She was my father's sister.”
My breath caught.
My mother was Dominic's aunt.
And somehow I had been raised under another name.
“Why?”
“Because after my father died, Daniel started eliminating anyone who might challenge him.”
“Maria challenged him.”
“Yes.”
“And my mother?”
“She tried to protect you.”
“From Daniel?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Everything made sense.
The foster homes.
The missing records.
The changed name.
My mother's fear.
She had been hiding me.
But why had Dominic's mother given him my picture?
I looked at him.
“You said your mother saved your life.”
He nodded.
“Then Maria wasn't my mother.”
“No.”
“She was my grandmother.”
He frowned.
“How old was your mother when she had you?”
“Twenty.”
Dominic looked stunned.
“I thought…”
“I know.”
Another secret.
Another lie.
But this one felt different.
My real mother was still alive.
Maybe.
We searched old records.
A woman named Elena Costa had disappeared twenty-nine years earlier.
A child was registered under the name Ana Costa.
Then transferred into state care.
The records had been altered.
I stared.
“Ana.”
My real name.
Dominic looked at me.
“You're Ana Costa.”
I shook my head.
“I've never used that name.”
“But someone else has been searching for it.”
A federal agent entered.
“We found something.”
He handed me a file.
A photograph.
Me at age six.
Taken outside a foster home.
On the back:
PROPERTY OF COSTA FAMILY.
I stared.
“Who took this?”
The agent pointed to a signature.
Daniel Vale.
My entire body went cold.
Daniel had known about me.
For years.
He had watched me.
The agent continued.
“There's more.”
He opened another file.
A list of foster homes.
Every one I'd been placed in.
Every move.
Every medical record.
Someone had paid for my care anonymously.
Not the state.
Someone private.
The payments came from an account belonging to Maria Costa.
My grandmother had secretly supported me.
Dominic looked at the records.
“She never stopped protecting you.”
I started crying.
“I never knew.”
“No one wanted you to.”
Later that night, Dominic asked me to stay beside him.
“Why?”
“Because I need to tell you what I remember.”
I sat.
He closed his eyes.
“The night I was shot, I was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
“Maria.”
My breath stopped.
“My grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“But she died.”
“No.”
I stared.
“What?”
Dominic opened his eyes.
“She disappeared.”
“And Daniel said she was dead.”
“Daniel says many things.”
“What did she want?”
“To warn me.”
“About what?”
“Your mother.”
I frowned.
“My mother?”
“She was alive.”
My heart stopped.
“Where?”
Dominic swallowed.
“I don't know.”
He looked at me.
“But the reason I was shot wasn't because of my business.”
“Then why?”
“Because I found her.”
The room went silent.
“You found my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“When?”
“Three days before the shooting.”
I could barely breathe.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“You didn't know who you were.”
He paused.
“And I wasn't sure if you were safe.”
I whispered:
“Am I?”
He took my hand.
“No.”
Then the lights flickered.
A shadow moved outside the door.
Dominic's expression changed.
“Get down.”
A shot shattered the window.
Security rushed in.
I dropped to the floor.
Dominic pulled me behind the bed.
Another shot.
Then silence.
On the floor beside my shoe was a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
May you like
One sentence.
YOUR MOTHER IS WAITING FOR YOU.
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