Chapter 6 - SEVENTEEN YEARS OF STOLEN MOTHERHOOD"Where is she?"
Abigail's voice was barely audible.
Miriam stood inside the small living room, facing the woman whose life had been shattered by a lie.
"Diamond is at school."
Abigail pressed her hands against her chest.
"Seventeen years?"
Miriam lowered her eyes.
"Yes."
"She's been alive for seventeen years?"
"Yes."
Abigail staggered toward the sofa.
Miriam reached out to help, but Abigail pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
Miriam stopped.
Abigail sat down slowly.
Her entire body trembled.
"I carried her."
Tears streamed down her face.
"I felt both my babies moving inside me. I bought them clothes. I sang to them every night."
Miriam's own tears fell.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
Abigail looked up.
"You don't know what it feels like to wake up every morning with an empty place in your heart."
Miriam absorbed the words.
She knew Abigail had every reason to be angry.
For seventeen years, Miriam had loved Diamond.
She had watched her take her first steps.
She had taught her to read.
She had celebrated birthdays, wiped away tears, and waited through frightening illnesses.
Abigail had been denied those moments.
And nothing Miriam could say would return them.
"I'm sorry," Miriam whispered.
Abigail shook her head.
"Tell me everything."
Miriam went into her bedroom and returned with the metal box.
She placed it on the coffee table.
Inside lay Diamond's newborn photograph and hospital identification bracelet.
Abigail picked up the bracelet.
The faded label read:
Baby Girl B — Whitmore.
Her fingers trembled.
She had dreamed of holding that bracelet again.
She had once begged Lawrence to ask the hospital for Diamond's belongings.
He told her everything had been destroyed.
Now the bracelet lay in her hands.
"How?" Abigail whispered.
Miriam sat opposite her.
"I was working at St. Catherine's when the twins were born. Your delivery was complicated. Afterward, a hospital administrator told me Baby B was being placed for adoption."
Abigail stared.
"Adoption?"
"He said the parents had signed the necessary documents."
"I never signed anything."
Miriam nodded slowly.
"I know that now."
Abigail gripped the bracelet.
"Who told you?"
"Victor Hale."
The name meant nothing to Abigail at first.
Then she remembered a hospital executive who had attended several charity dinners with Lawrence.
"Victor Hale?"
"Yes."
Miriam removed a folder.
"He introduced me to an attorney who arranged a private placement. I was grieving my husband's death. I wanted a child. They told me you weren't able to raise her."
Abigail's expression hardened.
"And you believed them?"
"I saw legal documents. I saw signatures. The adoption was approved by a court."
"Did you ever speak to me?"
Miriam shook her head.
"No."
"Why not?"
"They said you had requested privacy because you were recovering from a difficult birth."
Abigail looked toward the window.
"Lawrence."
Miriam closed her eyes.
"I didn't understand what happened until years later. I saw a newspaper article about your foundation's annual memorial fundraiser. It said you had lost a daughter at birth."
Abigail turned sharply.
"And then?"
"I contacted the law office that handled the placement. They told me the article was inaccurate."
"Did you believe that?"
"Not completely."
"Then why didn't you come to me?"
Miriam began crying harder.
"I tried to get information. I was warned that challenging the adoption could put Diamond into state care while the court investigated. I had no money for a lawyer. I was terrified of losing her."
Abigail stared at her.
Miriam continued.
"I wrote letters. I asked to speak with you privately. They never reached you. Eventually, someone told me you wanted no contact with either of us."
Abigail covered her face.
For a long time, neither woman spoke.
Then Abigail looked up.
"You should have found another way."
Miriam nodded.
"Yes."
"You should have come to me."
"Yes."
"You should have told someone who could help."
Miriam wiped her tears.
"Yes."
There was no defense that could erase seventeen years.
Only the truth.
"I loved her," Miriam whispered. "And I was afraid."
Abigail looked at the baby photograph.
"So was I."
At that very moment, Diamond was standing before Dr. Ward inside the engineering laboratory.
A letter lay on the desk between them.
It was the foundation notice Miriam had received.
Dr. Ward read it carefully.
Then she removed her glasses.
"Diamond, I want you to understand something."
Diamond nodded.
"Your academic records were independently reviewed. Your admission was based on merit."
"Then why is the foundation questioning it?"
Dr. Ward's expression tightened.
"That's what I intend to find out."
Diamond looked down.
"Could they take my scholarship?"
"They can request a review of the funding, but they cannot simply invent an academic violation. I will challenge this through the proper channels."
Diamond exhaled.
"Thank you."
Dr. Ward leaned forward.
"Don't allow wealthy people to convince you that opportunity belongs to them."
Diamond smiled faintly.
"My mother says something similar."
"Then your mother sounds wise."
Diamond's smile faded.
She remembered Miriam's strange behavior.
The telephone calls.
The envelope.
The fear in her mother's eyes.
Something was happening around her, and everyone seemed to know more than she did.
When Diamond returned home that evening, she saw an unfamiliar silver luxury sedan parked beside the curb.
She entered quietly.
"Mama?"
Voices came from the living room.
Miriam stood near the sofa.
A woman in an elegant blue dress was holding a small hospital bracelet.
Diamond recognized her immediately.
"Mrs. Whitmore?"
Abigail turned.
The two women faced one another.
For the first time, Abigail stood close enough to see every detail of Diamond's face.
The tiny dimple beside her left cheek.
The determined set of her jaw.
The lighter patches of skin that made her appearance uniquely her own.
Abigail began crying.
Diamond looked startled.
"Are you okay?"
Abigail pressed a hand over her mouth.
Diamond turned toward Miriam.
"Mama, what's happening?"
Miriam struggled to speak.
"Sweetheart, sit down."
Diamond remained standing.
"No."
Her heart began racing.
"Someone needs to tell me what's going on."
Abigail took a cautious step forward.
"Diamond..."
The girl stared at her.
"How do you know my name?"
Abigail looked at Miriam.
Miriam nodded through her tears.
Abigail took a trembling breath.
"My name is Abigail Whitmore."
"I know. You're Gold's mother."
Abigail's expression crumpled.
She whispered:
"I'm your mother, too."
Diamond stepped backward.
For several seconds, the room remained completely silent.
Then Diamond looked at Miriam.
"Tell me she's lying."
Miriam began crying.
Diamond's voice rose.
"Mama, tell me she's lying!"
May you like
Miriam could only shake her head.
And Diamond realized that the woman she had called Mother all her life had been keeping a secret about the very beginning of her existence.
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