Chapter 12: The Woman Who Remembered Everything
Dad immediately grabbed his phone.
"What do you mean Victor found her?""
Renee shook her head.
"He told me.""
"When?""
"This morning.""
"Why?""
"He said she had been asking questions again.""
Thomas stepped closer.
"Where is she?""
Renee hesitated.
"I don't know.""
Dad slammed his hand against the table.
"Stop protecting him!""
"I'm not!""
"Then tell us what you know!""
Renee looked at me.
"He said Patricia had contacted the hospital about Margaret's records. He was worried she might have kept copies.""
Thomas picked up his briefcase.
"Did he mention where she lived?""
Renee nodded.
"Somewhere in Ohio.""
"Which city?""
"I don't know.""
Thomas immediately called his office.
He asked someone to locate Patricia Bell through the hospital's former employment records.
While he waited, Dad sat beside me.
"Are you okay?""
I looked at him.
"No.""
He nodded.
"I understand.""
I stared at the photograph of my mother.
"Why didn't you tell me she was afraid?""
Dad looked down.
"Because you were eleven.""
"I could have remembered.""
He swallowed.
"I wanted you to remember her laughing. Making pancakes. Singing in the kitchen. Not lying in a hospital bed wondering who she could trust.""
I looked at him.
"Did you ever suspect Renee?""
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "No.""
"Not even once?""
"I thought she was helping us.""
I looked toward Renee.
She was sitting on the far end of the sofa, with Mia beside her.
For the first time, Mia wasn't leaning against her mother.
She was sitting several inches away.
Thomas ended his call.
"We found a possible address.""
Dad stood immediately.
"Where?""
"Columbus, Ohio.""
"How do we contact her?""
Thomas checked his notes.
"She works at a private rehabilitation center. I have a former colleague who can reach her.""
Dad nodded.
"Do it.""
But Thomas raised one hand.
"There's a complication.""
"What?""
"Patricia has refused to speak to anyone connected with the Carter family.""
Dad frowned.
"Why?""
Thomas looked at Renee.
"Because she believes someone in this house helped Victor conceal what happened.""
Renee began shaking her head.
"That's not true.""
Thomas opened another document.
"Patricia left a voicemail with my office four years ago. She said she had evidence that could change the outcome of the original investigation.""
Dad looked stunned.
"Four years ago?""
"Yes.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because the voicemail was received after the investigation was closed. I didn't recognize the significance until now.""
Thomas played it.
A woman's voice came through the phone.
"Mr. Reed, this is Patricia Bell. I cared for Margaret Carter during her final hospitalization.""
A pause.
"I need to tell you that the medication records were altered.""
Another pause.
"I also need you to understand that Margaret knew she was being harmed.""
The recording crackled.
Then Patricia continued.
"She asked me to make copies of everything. She said if anything happened to her, I should give the documents to her daughter when she was old enough.""
The recording ended.
I covered my mouth.
My mother had known.
She had known something was wrong.
And she had tried to leave me evidence.
Thomas checked the timestamp.
"Four years ago. Exactly three years after Margaret died.""
Dad frowned.
"Why wait?""
Thomas explained.
"Patricia may have been afraid. She may have needed time to gather documentation.""
I looked at him.
"Can we call her?""
He nodded.
"I'll arrange it.""
A few minutes later, his phone rang.
He answered and put it on speaker.
A woman's voice came through.
"Mr. Reed?""
"Patricia. Thank you for calling.""
"Is Daniel there?""
Dad leaned forward.
"This is Daniel Carter.""
There was a long silence.
Then she spoke.
"I'm sorry.""
Dad closed his eyes.
"For what?""
"For not coming forward sooner.""
"Do you know what happened to my wife?""
Patricia took a shaky breath.
"I know someone interfered with her medication. I also know Margaret was afraid of a man who visited her during the final weeks.""
Dad looked at the phone.
"Victor?""
"Yes.""
Thomas asked, "Do you still have the records?""
"I kept copies.""
"Where?""
"Some are with me. Others are stored in a safety deposit box.""
Dad gripped the table.
"Can you send them?""
Patricia hesitated.
"I won't send anything until I know your daughter is safe.""
I leaned toward the phone.
"I'm here.""
The woman went quiet.
Then she spoke softly.
"You're Margaret's little girl?""
"Yes.""
"Oh, sweetheart.""
Her voice broke.
"Your mother talked about you every day.""
I started crying.
Patricia continued.
"She kept a photograph of you beside her bed. It was a picture of you wearing a yellow raincoat.""
I remembered it.
I had been seven.
My mother had taken me outside during a thunderstorm because I wanted to see whether rain really smelled different in the summer.
"She told me you wanted to become a veterinarian.""
I smiled through my tears.
"I did.""
"She was so proud of you.""
Dad turned away.
Patricia took another breath.
"Listen carefully. There is something I need to tell you.""
I leaned closer.
"Okay.""
"Your mother wasn't receiving the medication listed in her chart during her final two weeks.""
Thomas immediately wrote something down.
Patricia continued.
"The dosage had been changed. The hospital later claimed it was an administrative correction, but I knew it wasn't.""
Dad's voice became sharp.
"Who changed it?""
"I saw Victor speaking with the attending physician. I also saw Renee in the medication room.""
Renee stood abruptly.
"That's a lie!""
Patricia heard her.
"Is that Renee?""
Nobody answered.
Then Patricia said something that made the room go cold.
"She wasn't alone.""
Dad looked at her.
"Who else was there?""
Patricia hesitated.
Then she said a name.
"Mark Carter.""
Dad closed his eyes.
His brother had been involved in the financial fraud.
Now he was connected to the hospital.
"Are you certain?"" Thomas asked.
"Yes. I saw him signing a document.""
"What document?""
"A medication authorization.""
Dad looked at me.
I couldn't understand how many people had been involved.
My mother had been surrounded by people she trusted.
Her husband.
Her brother-in-law.
A family friend.
And the woman who had promised to become a second mother to me.
Patricia continued.
"But there's something else.""
Thomas leaned toward the phone.
"What?""
"Margaret asked me to hide a copy of the original medical file. She said it contained a handwritten note from Victor.""
"Where is it?""
"At the hospital archives.""
Thomas frowned.
"Why would it still be there?""
"Because I put it inside a sealed patient file under a different name.""
Dad stood.
"Can you tell us whose name?""
Patricia went silent.
Then she said, "I can. But I need you to understand something first.""
"What?""
"Margaret didn't die because the medication error made her condition worse.""
I felt my heart stop.
"What do you mean?""
Patricia lowered her voice.
"She was recovering. Her latest test results showed improvement. The doctors were discussing sending her home.""
Dad gripped the edge of the table.
"Then what happened?""
Patricia took a shaky breath.
"On the final night, someone entered her room after visiting hours.""
"Who?""
"I didn't see his face.""
"Then how do you know it was a man?""
"Because I heard his voice.""
She paused.
Then she said something that made Dad slowly sit down.
"He called Margaret by a name nobody in your family used.""
I looked at the photograph of my mother.
"What name?""
Patricia whispered:
"Margie.""
Dad's face changed.
He looked at Thomas.
Then at the phone.
"Only one person called her that.""
"Who?"" I asked.
Dad's voice was barely audible.
"Her first husband.""
I stared at him.
"Mom was married before you?""
He nodded slowly.
"Yes.""
I had never heard that story.
Not once.
Patricia continued.
"Margaret told me she had spent years believing that man was dead.""
Dad's phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
It contained an old photograph of a man standing beside my mother.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written:
*He isn't dead, Daniel. And he knows where the ledger is.*
Then another message appeared.
*Ask your daughter why Margaret never told her about the little boy.*
I stared at the screen.
"What little boy?""
Dad looked at me.
Thomas slowly closed his briefcase.
And somewhere upstairs, the old grandfather clock struck seven.
My mother had another secret.
May you like
A secret that had apparently been hidden from me for eighteen years.
A brother I had never known existed.
