Chapter 8 - The Night Nora Was Born
Brianna had spent fourteen years believing one version of Nora’s birth.
Now she began to question all of it.
Her mother had told her she labored for nine hours at a private hospital outside Boston.
She remembered pain.
Medication.
Her father pacing.
Her aunt Miriam crying.
And then waking after delivery and being told the adoption documents had been completed.
“I signed papers,” Brianna told Rachel.
“Do you remember signing them?”
“Some.”
“Before or after delivery?”
“Before.”
Daniel Cho frowned.
“Was independent counsel provided?”
“My father said the family attorney represented everyone.”
Rachel and Daniel exchanged a look.
“That is not how a clean adoption should have been handled,” Rachel said.
Nora sat silently.
Brianna looked at her.
“I thought Miriam wanted you.”
“She did.”
“I know.”
“But?”
Brianna swallowed.
“But I don’t know anymore whether I was given a meaningful choice.”
Nora’s expression remained guarded.
“I’m not asking you to undo the adoption.”
“I know.”
“I loved Aunt Miriam.”
“I know.”
“She was my mother.”
Brianna flinched but nodded.
“Yes.”
Nora’s voice softened slightly.
“And you’re my mother too. That’s what makes this complicated.”
They spent hours reconstructing records.
Miriam’s letter said Bethany had objected to Richard’s plan during the pregnancy.
Bethany wanted Brianna to raise the baby.
Richard insisted scandal would damage a major merger involving Hale Capital.
He threatened to cut Brianna off.
More troubling was what happened immediately after birth.
According to Miriam, Brianna repeatedly asked to see her daughter.
Richard claimed doctors advised against it because of Brianna’s emotional condition.
Miriam later learned no doctor had given such advice.
Bethany threatened to expose Richard.
Soon afterward, unexplained payments began appearing.
“What happened to my mother?” Brianna whispered.
Logan answered carefully.
“Maybe your father bought her silence.”
Nora shook her head.
“Aunt Miriam said it wasn’t that simple.”
Daniel unfolded another page.
Bethany had received money.
But most of it was transferred again within days.
To a nonprofit.
A women’s legal assistance fund.
A domestic violence shelter.
A college scholarship foundation.
Brianna stared.
“My mother gave it away.”
“Most of it,” Rachel said.
“So why accept it?”
Nobody knew.
Until Logan noticed something.
“Look at the dates.”
The payments from Richard to Bethany occurred annually in the same month.
March.
Nora’s birth month.
Each year Bethany then made donations.
“It could be symbolic,” Daniel said.
“Or a message,” Nora replied.
Brianna looked at her daughter.
Nora turned a page from Miriam’s notes.
“Aunt Miriam wrote: ‘Bethany says every dollar will become something Richard cannot control.’”
Brianna began crying.
For years she had believed her mother was weak.
Silent.
Complicit.
Maybe she had been fighting in the only way she thought she could.
That evening Brianna called Bethany.
Her mother answered on the third ring.
“Brianna.”
“Mom.”
A pause.
“Your father said you were upset.”
“I’m with Nora.”
Silence.
Then a breath.
“Oh.”
“You knew she found me?”
“No.”
“Did Dad pay you to keep quiet about her?”
Bethany did not answer.
“Mom.”
“Yes.”
Nora listened from across the room.
Brianna closed her eyes.
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he threaten?”
Another silence.
Then Bethany said something none of them expected.
“Not me.”
Brianna’s eyes opened.
“Who?”
“You.”
“What did he threaten to do to me?”
“He said if I interfered with the adoption, he would make sure you were declared financially incompetent and placed under his control.”
Brianna felt sick.
“That’s impossible.”
“It was easier then than you think, especially with doctors willing to describe a frightened twenty-one-year-old as unstable.”
“Did he have doctors?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t remember all the names.”
“Try.”
Bethany began crying.
“Brianna, I made terrible choices.”
“Tell me.”
“He had already prepared records suggesting you had a history of substance abuse.”
“I never used drugs.”
“I know.”
Logan stared.
Nora whispered, “Why would he do that?”
Bethany heard her.
Her voice changed.
“Nora?”
“Yes.”
Bethany sobbed.
“I am so sorry.”
Nora gripped the table.
“For what?”
“For letting you grow up inside a lie.”
Then another voice came through Bethany’s phone.
Male.
Cold.
Richard.
“Bethany.”
Everyone froze.
Bethany gasped.
The call disconnected.
Brianna stared at the phone.
“He’s there.”
Logan stood.
Brianna immediately dialed again.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then a text arrived from Bethany’s number.
Do not call again tonight. I’m fine.
Nora stared at it.
“That doesn’t sound like her.”
Brianna shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
Because her mother never wrote I’m fine.
She always wrote I’m okay.
