Chapter 2 - THE TWO GIRLS MY MOTHER HID FROM ME
“Your mother never told you, did she?”
Evelyn's voice was so quiet that I almost wondered if I had imagined it.
I looked at the two little girls beside her.
The older one was perhaps five.
The younger one couldn't have been more than four.
Both were staring at me.
Neither looked away.
“Didn't tell me what?”
Evelyn's hands tightened around them.
She glanced toward the departure board, then toward the security checkpoint, as if she expected someone to appear.
“Marcus, we can't talk here.”
“You disappeared for six years.”
“I know.”
“You emptied your apartment.”
“I know.”
“You changed your number.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you left me.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I never left you.”
That sentence hit harder than an accusation.
I crouched several feet away from the girls.
“What's your name?”
The older girl looked at Evelyn.
Evelyn nodded.
“I'm Lily.”
The younger one hugged the suitcase.
“I'm Claire.”
“Hi, Lily. Hi, Claire.”
Neither answered.
Lily studied my face.
Then she asked, “Are you the hotel man?”
I swallowed.
“What?”
“Mommy said you own hotels.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“You talked about me?”
“Only when I had to.”
Claire suddenly whispered, “Is he Daddy?”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
I stopped breathing.
Lily looked at her sister.
“You weren't supposed to ask.”
Claire frowned.
“But he looks like us.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She didn't deny it.
“Are they mine?”
The question came out barely above a whisper.
Evelyn looked at me.
“Yes.”
Everything around me seemed to disappear.
The airport noise faded.
The departure board blurred.
My business deal in Boston became meaningless.
My entire life seemed to contract around two little girls sitting beside a battered blue suitcase.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since they were born.”
I looked at Lily.
Then Claire.
“Twins?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Identical?”
“No.”
Lily had dark brown eyes.
Claire's were slightly lighter.
But both had my father's jaw.
My hands began shaking.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Evelyn looked down.
“Because your mother made sure you couldn't find us.”
I stared at her.
“My mother?”
“She came to the hospital.”
“What hospital?”
“St. Catherine's in Manhattan.”
I remembered the name.
My family's preferred hospital.
I felt sick.
“What did she say?”
Evelyn pulled her coat tighter around herself.
“She told me you had changed your mind.”
“About what?”
“About us.”
“That isn't true.”
“I know that now.”
“Then why did you believe her?”
“Because she showed me something.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
My chest tightened.
“What letter?”
“One supposedly written by you.”
I shook my head.
“I never wrote you anything.”
“She showed me a letter saying you didn't want children.”
I stared at her.
“That isn't true.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because she also showed me photographs.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
With another woman.
I frowned.
“What woman?”
“I don't know.”
Evelyn's voice cracked.
“But she made it look like you had already moved on.”
I felt anger rising.
“I never moved on.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn't you call me?”
Evelyn looked at the girls.
“Because by then I was pregnant.”
I stared.
“You were pregnant when I left for London?”
She nodded.
“You were six weeks pregnant.”
I closed my eyes.
I remembered that trip.
Three weeks away.
The hotel opening.
The phone calls that stopped suddenly.
The first letter that came back unopened.
The second.
The third.
My mother had told me Evelyn wanted nothing to do with me.
I had believed her.
“What happened after you had them?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Your mother made another visit.”
“What did she want?”
“To take the girls.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“She said the Vance family couldn't allow children with an uncertain father to become part of the family.”
I looked at Lily and Claire.
“Uncertain father?”
“She told me you'd deny them.”
“I would never.”
“I know.”
She reached into her coat pocket.
Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed me standing outside my hotel in Miami.
Beside me was a woman.
I recognized her.
A business consultant who had worked with my company for two months.
Nothing romantic had happened.
But the photograph had been taken at exactly the right angle to make it look intimate.
On the back was handwriting.
Marcus has chosen his life. Don't make your daughters suffer for his decision.
I stared at the photograph.
“My mother gave you this?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“Why didn't you show me?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
She looked toward the girls.
“Your mother had someone watching me.”
My stomach tightened.
“You were followed?”
“For months.”
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
Then Claire tugged at Evelyn's sleeve.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
“Can we go now?”
Evelyn hugged her.
“Soon.”
Lily was still watching me.
She suddenly reached into her little backpack.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Mommy said not to show this.”
Evelyn's face went white.
“Lily.”
“But he is Daddy.”
I looked at the paper.
It was a child's drawing.
Four figures stood beneath a large blue house.
A woman.
Two little girls.
And a man.
The man had dark hair.
Underneath him, in uneven letters, was written:
DADDY MARCUS
My throat tightened.
“Who taught you my name?”
Lily looked confused.
“Mommy.”
Evelyn covered her face.
“I couldn't keep lying to them.”
I looked at her.
“Where were you going?”
She hesitated.
“Boston.”
“Why?”
“To leave.”
“With them?”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
Evelyn looked at the airport clock.
“Because six years ago, your mother told me to disappear.”
She swallowed.
“And three days ago, she found us.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She found us.”
“How?”
Evelyn reached into her bag.
She pulled out a small velvet pouch.
Inside was a gold bracelet.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother's bracelet.
Eleanor had worn it every Christmas since I was a child.
I stared at it.
“How did you get that?”
“She left it at our door.”
“What was inside?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“A note.”
She handed it to me.
Only six words were written.
HE KNOWS. RUN BEFORE MARCUS DOES.
I looked up.
“Who knows?”
Evelyn's face changed.
“That's the problem.”
She pointed toward the airport entrance.
A man in a navy coat had just entered.
He wasn't looking at us.
But he was carrying a photograph.
And when he passed the window, I saw my mother's face reflected in his phone.
Evelyn grabbed both girls.
“Marcus.”
“What?”
“We have to leave.”
“Why?”
She looked at the man.
“Because he isn't here for me.”
May you like
Her eyes met mine.
“He's here for the girls.”
