Chapter 13 - The Wrong Family
The woman in blue tried to drive away.
Two unmarked vehicles blocked the street. Officers moved in, weapons lowered but ready. Caleb ran toward a side alley and was tackled before he reached the corner.
Sophie sat in the back seat, frightened and confused.
“Who are you?” she asked when Elise approached.
Elise stopped several feet away.
“I’m someone who has been looking for you for a very long time.”
The girl glanced at the officers. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, sweetheart,” Graham said. “You did nothing wrong.”
The woman in blue was identified as a private caregiver paid by a company connected to Victor. She had no legal authority to take Sophie. The foster family had been told that a distant relative was arranging a temporary move.
Sophie was taken to a safe location. A child advocate explained the situation in gentle, simple words. Elise was allowed to sit nearby, but not to force a reunion.
Graham watched from the hallway.
Lucy stood beside him.
“You okay?” she asked.
“No.”
“Good. That means you understand this isn’t something money can fix.”
He gave a tired laugh. “You keep saying things that hurt.”
“Maybe you keep needing to hear them.”
The DNA results arrived the next morning.
Lucy was not Graham and Elise’s biological daughter. Sophie was.
Lucy had been adopted by Daniel and his wife years before, and the records had been manipulated to hide Sophie’s placement. Daniel had discovered the truth and kept the ledger as protection. He had raised Lucy with love while trying to find a way to expose Victor.
Graham looked at Lucy.
“So you’re not—”
“No,” she said. “But my father chose me. That counts.”
“It counts more than anything.”
She looked away, fighting tears.
A child advocate brought Sophie into the room. She stood in the doorway, holding a stuffed rabbit.
“Are you my parents?” she asked.
Elise nodded, crying.
Graham knelt so he would be at her eye level.
“We are,” he said. “But you don’t have to call us anything today. You can take your time.”
Sophie studied him.
“Are you rich?”
Graham almost smiled. “Yes.”
“Does that mean you can buy my old room back?”
His smile faded.
“What old room?”
May you like
Sophie held out a folded drawing.
On it was a house with a red door. Beneath it, in a child’s handwriting, were the words: WHERE THEY SAID MY REAL MOM LIVED.
