by Jill Cooper
“You can’t keep this up, Jess. You need to talk to someone.”
I open my mouth to argue, and he holds his finger against my lips. “I’m serious. We call the FBI. You tell them your story.”
“They’re never going to listen. I’m just a kid. The killer stole all the evidence out of my room. There’s nothing to go on but my word at this point.”
“We call a hotline number, and we still try. We tell them everything you know. Please, you have nothing to lose, but if you keep this up, I’m worried they’re going to hurt you.”
“All right.” I bite my lip. “You’re right. I really do have nothing to lose but…I guess I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “Realizing this is all true. That maybe Amber Chetwood’s baby is still out there. And what if it really is me? I mean, look at me. I look just like her.”
“There is such a thing as doppelgangers.” He smiles. “I know it’s a big coincidence, but if it is true, don’t you want to know?”
“No,” I admit with a laugh. “It’d mean my parents had lied all along. They hid who they are and who I am.”
“Maybe they did. But maybe they had a good reason. Maybe the killer would’ve wanted to get rid of you, too. Maybe that’s why no one in this town mentioned that Amber was pregnant. Not a single person brought the baby up, and they had to have known.”
He’s right, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “The truth is out there, Cameron. And I’m going to find it one way or another.”
Cameron slides his arm around my shoulder. “First things first, let’s get in touch with the feds. Maybe they can tell us what to do next.”
What they tell me is to hunker down, stay home, and wait for them to arrive to take over the situation. They should be here in a few days, but I don’t know if I can wait that long. I arrive home after dinner. My parents are watching television downstairs. They sit like an ocean separates them. They both say hello, and I excuse myself upstairs. I tell them I am going to change, but instead of going into my room, I go into theirs.
I close the door and lock it, placing my backpack on their bed.
If there are papers about my adoption, they’ll be in here. I start looking in all the usual places. I look in the jewelry box, every drawer in Mom’s end table, and her dressers. I check her hope chest under my baby blankets and a few baby clothing items. I go through the baby overalls and a little pink dress, but they’re a size six months and up.
Don’t most people save the newborn clothes as mementos?
I pull out the baby photo album beside it and flip through it. I’m a chunky and smiling baby, but there are no newborn photos. No pictures of Mom pregnant. How did I miss all of these things before? Why had I never noticed? I touch a photo of me, Mom, and Dad, sitting outside under a tree. Thick tears fall from my eyes, and I hastily wipe them away.
I’m not really theirs, am I?
I put the album back where I found it and go into my mother’s closet. Under a pile of clothes is Dad’s duffle bag and inside it, a manila envelope that’s been taped shut. I pull it out and rip it open. The contents fall onto the floor. Legal documents and photos of a newborn baby in her mother’s arms.
Amber.
She looks relaxed, and there’s a glow about her. I don’t think I’ve seen a photo of her before where she’s so happy. My mom. I will myself not to cry, and I scurry on the floor to collect the legal adoption papers for a Mackenzie Summers, Amber’s baby. I read through the papers with a sick, sinking feeling opening up in me. It just grows worse and worse.
Mackenzie is me. I am her. My heart cracks in two.
My parents have been lying all my life. And now, because my dad couldn’t keep it in his pants, Mom and I fled straight toward danger without realizing it. How could he do this to us? How could he do this to me?
I gather up the papers and steady the sob in my throat. I stuff the papers back into the manila folder and stick it under my arm. I yank the door open and go storming down the hall. I run down the stairs.
Mom sits up to attention. “Jessica? What’s wrong?”
“Everything!” I throw the contents of the folder at them both. “You lied. The both of you. When were you going to tell me? You must have figured it out by now. Who I am. Who my mother was. You must’ve figured it out days ago. But you won’t say anything. Why?”
“Oh, Jess…” Mom stands up and reaches for me, but I swat her hands away and back up. She looks like a wounded animal, and I feel like one. None of this is right. It all feels so wrong.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. Jessica, honey,” Dad approaches me, too, but I can’t take it from the both of them at once.
“I guess I know why you had no interest in me. I was never yours, anyway.”
“No.” Dad reaches for me desperately. “It wasn’t like that. I’m sorry. I made a huge mistake. But it was never like that.”
I snort and back away. “Could’ve fooled me.” I shift my eyes to Mom, who looks shell shocked, like I slapped her. I’m angry at her most of all. “I know this is a shock to you, and we owe you the biggest explanation. I do, but it’s not like that. It never was. I loved you from the moment you were placed—”
With disgust, I walk right out the front door. The last place I want to be is at home. It’s not safe.
Maybe nothing ever will be again.
Chapter Forty-Three: Amber 2004
I tuck my baby girl Mackenzie into her car seat and wrap a pink blanket around her to keep her warm in the cool spring air. Fast asleep, she sucks on her pacifier, and I watch in wonderment and awe that she’s mine. I love her more than I think I could love anyone. I’d do anything for her, and that means putting her family together.
“Are you sure about this? Why don’t you leave her here with me? You and Jackson can come pick her up when it’s safe,” Cathy says.
I set the car seat down beside the sofa. “I promise we’ll be fine, Mom. We’ll both be back. Safe and sound.”
Cathy takes my hand. “You called me Mom.” Her eyes fill with tears, and I hug her. My feelings for her and the Chetwoods are complicated, but slowly I’ve been coming around. “Your father knows about the baby. He wants you to go stay with him for a while. Please take him up on it. Don’t go back to Bay Harbor.”
I shake my head. “I have to. This is the right thing to do. I know it.”
“Is it?” Cathy narrows her eyes. “Stu’s a good guy. I heard he’d marry you. Take care of both of you. You just need to say yes. Let Jackson go. He’s where he needs to be. And you’re home, Tessa. You’re home here.”
“If I don’t do this, I’ll always wonder what could’ve been. Please understand. If I come back and Jackson won’t come with me, I’ll move forward. Maybe even marry Stu.”
Cathy sighs and squeezes her eyes shut. “I pray you know what you’re doing. Penelope Sinclair is evil. The things her family has done over the years...”
“Those are just rumors. We don’t know what’s true. But Jackson’s love for me is true. You’ll see.” I smile and kiss her cheek.
Cathy kisses the baby’s cheek, and I lift the car seat. I check on my daughter and feel my heart swell with love. I push open the door to the trailer and smile at my mom. “I’ll see you soon.”
Then I set off with a date with destiny. I’m about to finally have everything I want.
Chapter Forty-Four
Jessica: September 13th, 2020
The mood is cool leading up to the evening wake. My parents try to talk to me, but I refuse and shut myself in my room. I’m not ready to act adult or hear their explanations. Dad does his laundry, and Mom takes the day off. She’s in hyper-mom mode with the cooking and cleaning. She makes a big lunch, we eat together, but we’re disconnected. She bakes me cupcakes and offers me ice cream.
She’s doing everything she can to make it right, but I’m not a kid. Ice cream with sprinkles can’t fix everything.
I want
to reach out. I want them to reassure me everything’s going to be okay. I want Dad to say he really wants to be back, and he’s not here to control what I learn and what I do.
If I wasn’t good enough for him before my life was in danger, I don’t want to be good enough for him now.
But we don’t connect. Not like I want to. I watch him fold his laundry from a distance. He’s in what was Mom’s study with small piles of shirts, jeans, and pajamas on top of her desk. I lean against the doorjamb and wait for him to say something. He must feel me. I’m staring at the back of his head strong enough.
I clear my throat finally.
“Hey, Jess,” he turns his head slightly to acknowledge my presence. “How’s it going? You need something?”
Signs of love might be a good start, but I can’t bring myself to say that. “No, I was just wondering how you were doing with your laundry? It doesn’t fold itself, you know.”
Dad chuckles. “That I do. Once I’m done here, I’m going to take a shower. You should get ready, too.”
“Yeah, I guess I should. Are you…happy to be back?”
He faces me and gives me a somber smile. “Of course, I am. I missed you more than you can know, but the longer I stayed away, the harder it was to pick up that phone. Can you understand that?”
I nod. “I can. Sure.” I just never thought it would happen between my dad and me. If I’m adopted, maybe he never wanted me in the first place. Talk about the harsh light of day.
“I’ll make it up to you. After the wake, we’ll go for ice cream.”
Ice cream? I snort. “I didn’t skin my knee at softball practice. Ice cream can’t solve this.” I grunt, disappointed I said that. He’s trying to give me what I want so why do I have to be such a brat? But I feel like crying. All I want is Dad to want to be here, but despite what he says and how he acts, I feel like he doesn’t.
He doesn’t want to do this at all. Why can’t things just go back to being easy again?
“I know it can’t fix everything.” He heads over and takes my hands in his. I resist at first, but I’m not able to for long. The thing is, I want to give in. I want him to hug me. I want to forgive him. “But the most important thing right now is for me to show up. To be there for you. To show you, I’m not going to run away. And I promise you I’m not. Not again. I’m sorry, Jess.”
I nod as tears rise in my eyes. I’m embarrassed, and I want to run away. I’m sixteen and not a baby. I should be able to control myself better than this.
“I betrayed my promise to you. I abandoned you and your mom. I should’ve handled myself better. Can you try to forgive me—one day?” He strokes my cheek and runs my hair through his fingers.
I can’t stop it anymore. I blubber and start to sob. Dad hugs me, and it’s the best hug in the world. It’s like being three again when I would hitch my legs on his waist, and he would coddle me like I was porcelain china. He’d promise to protect me, and I believed him. I believed him, and that was my mistake. My problem.
I was broken, and now I feel like he wants to put me back together.
I wrap my arms around him. “I forgive you. Please stay, Dad.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses my cheek, and the embrace lingers. The longer it lasts, the braver I feel.
“About the papers,” I whisper. “If I was…? Did you…?”
“We’ll talk about it,” he promises as we pull away, “but after the wake. When we can sit down later, and no one needs to rush off. It’ll take a while for us to heal. I get that. I never meant…I made stupid decisions. I was weak. You were supposed to always come first.”
The look of pain on his face is too much for me. I’m heartbroken all over again. I wipe my tears away and let out another pained sob.
“I will always be your father. Mom will always be your mother. We’re a family. Real as anything.”
I nod and need to gather my strength. “Did Mom know her? Did you?”
He hesitates, and I see the sadness in his eyes. “We knew you needed a home. We knew something tragic happened, and we needed to keep your origins a secret. So we did. We moved from place to place. Changed your age so you’d never be tracked.”
So they did change my age. I feel sucker-punched all over again. Dad smooths my hair. “You’re going to need time to process, I know. I hope after the wake, we can all sit down and hash this out.”
I nod. “Sure.” I feel so hollow inside. I can’t believe we’re discussing my life and not someone else’s.
“Maybe talk to your mother. She feels horrible. She loves you, too, Jess.”
“I don’t think I can.” I head into my room to change for the wake.
Instead of doing that, I collapse on the bed and cry.
We’re a family unit as we arrive at the wake. Mom and Dad’s arms are linked together, and I follow right behind. The funeral home is welcoming in a shallow way with light cream walls, near silence, beautiful white flower arrangements and is freezing cold. The funeral director talks in a hushed whisper as we enter and welcomes us.
I stop at the guest book and sign my name slowly while scanning the signatures before me. Winnie and Jackson have already arrived, and Ryan, too. Interesting. And I hope I’m able to get Jackson alone so I can ask him some questions about Amber and the night she disappeared. There’s no way I can do it in a covert way. I just hope he doesn’t get too upset at the wake. If I cause a scene, my parents won’t be too pleased. Of course, I won’t be either.
We move on into the viewing room. There are rows of chairs. People cluster together along the walls and benches, but it’s the open white casket that draws my eye. I take a sharp breath without meaning to. Through all the intrigue and drama of my life, I never stopped to think I’d have to see Maxx again.
Mom puts her hand on my shoulder. “Take your time, honey,” she whispers. “It’ll be okay.”
I’ve been to wakes before. I saw granddad and granny at theirs, but they weren’t my age. They weren’t my friend for only a few weeks before I got them killed. I head to the casket, walking slowly. I give my condolences to Maxx’s parents. Her father’s face is withdrawn, and he barely nods at me. I’m not sure he really sees me. His lips part, and he mumbles something as Maxx’s mom greets me.
Tissues are in her hand, and her face is moist. She hadn’t even bothered to try to wear makeup. I mutter my heartfelt apology, and she hugs me. “Thank you, Jessica,” her voice croaks. “Maxx talked so much about you. I always wanted her to have a few good friends.”
Guilt and grief clench a tight hold on me. I did this to Maxx’s parents. I put their daughter in this situation. I regret my actions, and I vow to get justice for her. For Amber. Everyone who’s been ruined by this secret.
I touch the edge of the casket and step up. I divert my eyes to the blue hem of her blue sleeve. Her fingernails are painted pink, and her nails are rounded simply. Slowly, I let my eyes gaze up her body. Maxx never wore such soft fabric before, and a bright pink scarf wraps around her slashed neck, tucked into her collar. You’d never guess how violently she died if you hadn’t been there. I hope her parents hadn’t seen her like that. There’s no reason for that picture to be burned into their memories.
“I’m sorry, Maxx,” I whisper, and tears fall from my eyes. “I’ll make this right. I promise you.”
I put my hand on hers and notice there’s a red piece of paper hidden under her hand. It’s sticking out just enough so I could grab it and pull it out. If I wanted to. Could it be a letter from her parents? A final wish before the grave?
With my finger against it, I suck in my breath. Maxx’s eyes snap open. I jump back and check around. No one has seen what I have. Is this part of my gift as a possible Sinclair? When I look back at Maxx, her eyes are closed again.
Clearly, I’ve just lost my mind.
“Take it,” Maxx says. “Take it.”
I slip the paper away and fold it into my pocket just as someone takes me by the arm. It’s Ryan. He leads me awa
y, and I wonder if he saw what I did. I’m desperate to see what it says, but I can’t risk it now. “How are you holding up?” He rests his arm around my waist, and I lean against him.
In that moment, it doesn’t feel so forced. I’m needy and want someone to be there for me. I know it’s wrong to lean on Ryan or trust him, but it feels good. I’m so self-destructive.
“Hanging in there. Hoping this won’t take too long, to be honest.”
Ryan nods. “I hear you. My grandmother’s funeral was last year, and I still can’t get the smell of the funeral home out of my nose. Now that I’m here again…” He shakes his head.
“I’m sorry. I hope this isn’t too hard for you.”
“Not too hard. I can be here because it’s important. To Maxx and to you.” It might be the first sincere thing he’s ever really said. His eyes look solemn, and part of me wants to trust him, but I remember the night at the drive-in, and I remember Maxx’s warning. “Your mom is with someone?” He nods his head over to my dad.
My parents are holding hands as they talk to Maxx’s parents. They’re the picture of a united, happy front. I wonder if they are or if it’s for my benefit. “That’s my dad. He came back.” I rise up on the balls of my feet and shrug.
Ryan’s eyebrows arch. “Damn. That’s great, Chase. Proves things weren’t as far gone as you thought.”
Maybe he’s right. In the distance, Jackson Sinclair moves out of the restroom and heads to the downstairs sitting room. “I’m going to go check on someone, but maybe we can connect tonight.”
“Yeah?” Ryan sounds pleased.
“Yeah.” I touch the hem of his jacket and tilt my head.
Ryan bites his lip. “If your parents let me take you home, we can go somewhere private for a while. A cup of coffee. Whatever you like.”
I’m not ready to spend that amount of time with him, but I can sense he’s trying. “I can’t, but maybe another time.” I slip around the corner and head downstairs in what must’ve been a smoking room back in the day. There are rows of leather chairs with tall ashtrays between them. Talk about a relic. It’s like a museum.
