CHAPTER 6 — The Woman Who Never Stopped Looking
# CHAPTER 6 — The Woman Who Never Stopped Looking
Detective Collins didn't sleep that night.
Neither did I.
Someone had tried to access my biological mother's case file.
Less than twelve hours after it was reopened.
That wasn't a coincidence.
Someone knew we were getting close.
---
The next morning, Collins called.
"I need you at the station."
When Hannah and I arrived, she was already waiting beside a wall covered in photographs and timelines.
In the center hung one picture.
Elizabeth Carter.
Around it were dozens of names.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Police officers.
Friends.
Neighbors.
One name had been circled in red.
Margaret Sullivan.
"Who's that?" I asked.
Collins handed me a thin file.
"Elizabeth's best friend."
My pulse quickened.
"Is she still alive?"
Collins nodded.
"Seventy-one years old."
"She lives in a retirement community about two hours away."
I didn't hesitate.
"I want to meet her."
---
That afternoon...
Margaret Sullivan welcomed us into her small apartment.
The walls were covered with family photographs.
Plants lined every window.
She looked fragile.
But her eyes were sharp.
When she saw the photograph of Elizabeth...
She immediately burst into tears.
"Oh, Lizzie..."
She gently touched the picture.
"I always hoped someone would come."
My heart skipped a beat.
"You knew my mother?"
Margaret looked at me for a long moment.
Then whispered,
"You have her eyes."
---
For the next hour...
She told us stories no one else could.
Elizabeth wasn't unstable.
She wasn't depressed.
She wasn't trying to abandon her baby.
According to Margaret...
She had been happier than ever.
"She loved you from the moment she held you."
Margaret smiled through tears.
"She wouldn't let anyone else carry you."
I felt my throat tighten.
"But the police said..."
Margaret interrupted.
"The police believed Patricia."
---
She slowly stood and walked toward an old wooden cabinet.
From the bottom drawer...
She removed a faded blue box.
"I've kept these for twenty-nine years."
Inside were letters.
Birthday cards.
Photographs.
And a small cassette tape.
Margaret carefully held it in both hands.
"Elizabeth gave me this two days before she disappeared."
"She told me..."
"If anything ever happened..."
"...someone would eventually come looking."
She looked directly at me.
"I think she meant you."
---
Collins immediately found an old cassette player.
The tape crackled.
Static filled the room.
Then...
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Gentle.
Emotional.
"Hi..."
"If you're hearing this..."
"...then something happened to me."
I stopped breathing.
It was my mother's voice.
Elizabeth.
"I don't know if this recording will ever reach my baby."
"But if it does..."
"I need you to know something."
"You were wanted."
"You were loved."
"From the very first heartbeat."
Tears rolled down Hannah's face.
Mine followed seconds later.
---
Elizabeth continued.
"I'm afraid."
"I've been afraid ever since Patricia started visiting."
Detective Collins looked up sharply.
Elizabeth's voice trembled.
"She keeps saying I can't raise you."
"She says she'd be a better mother."
"She says Robert deserves someone stronger."
I felt the room spin.
Robert.
The man I had always believed was Patricia's husband.
My father.
---
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
"If anything happens to me..."
"It won't be an accident."
Silence.
No one moved.
The recording continued.
"Patricia wants my family."
"She wants my husband."
"And she wants my son."
The tape suddenly stopped.
Click.
The room remained silent.
---
Margaret covered her mouth.
"I took that tape to the police."
"What happened?" Collins asked.
"They told me grief was affecting my judgment."
"They said Patricia was helping with the investigation."
Collins closed her eyes.
"They ignored the warning."
Margaret nodded slowly.
"They trusted the wrong woman."
---
As we prepared to leave...
Margaret stopped me.
"There's one more thing."
She reached into the blue box again.
This time she handed me a sealed envelope.
Across the front...
In elegant handwriting...
Were five simple words.
For Ethan's Eighteenth Birthday.
My hands began to shake.
"I never opened it."
Margaret smiled sadly.
"It wasn't mine."
I carefully broke the seal.
Inside...
There was only a single handwritten page.
At the bottom...
Elizabeth had signed her name.
But it wasn't the signature that caught my attention.
It was the final sentence.
"If Patricia ever tells you I abandoned you... don't believe her. If I'm gone, it's because someone made sure I couldn't come back."
Before anyone could speak...
Detective Collins' phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed instantly.
"What?"
She stood abruptly.
"When?"
She hung up and looked directly at me.
"The prison just called."
My stomach dropped.
"What happened?"
Collins took a slow breath.
"Patricia Parker is gone."
I frowned.
"What do you mean, gone?"
Her voice was grave.
"She disappeared from the prison infirmary less than thirty minutes ago."
The room fell completely silent.
Because Patricia was seventy-three years old.
Suffering from cognitive decline.
Under constant supervision.
People like her...
May you like
Didn't simply vanish.
Unless someone had taken her.
