I Stepped Over a Little Girl’s Sidewalk Portrait—Then She Said I Was Her Mother

Chapter 08 - The House on Briar Hill

Before facing the board, I went to see my mother.

Helena lived in the Briar Hill estate where Claire and I had grown up. The house had seventeen rooms and no warm memories.

She was waiting in the library.

At seventy-two, my mother still dressed as though photographers might arrive without warning. Her silver hair was perfectly arranged, and a strand of pearls rested at her throat.

Then Hope entered behind me.

My mother’s face lost all color.

“She has your father’s eyes,” Helena whispered.

Hope moved closer to Claire’s wheelchair.

I placed the DNA report on the desk.

“Tell me why you signed Grant’s petition.”

Helena did not touch the paper.

“He said you were being manipulated.”

“You knew Hope was alive.”

“I believed she had been adopted.”

“You signed the transfer.”

My mother looked toward the window.

“Your father was dying. The company’s lenders were preparing to remove him. You had just taken over operations, and several board members were waiting for you to fail.”

“So you gave away my child.”

“The doctor said she might not survive.”

“She did.”

“I know that now.”

“You knew eight years ago.”

Her controlled expression finally broke.

“I knew Claire had taken her. Grant told me they had left the country.”

“And when Claire sent letters?”

Helena flinched.

I stepped closer.

“You received them.”

“She accused me of unforgivable things.”

“Because you did unforgivable things.”

My mother’s eyes filled, but I felt no satisfaction.

She opened a drawer and removed a stack of envelopes tied with a ribbon.

There were eight birthday cards.

One for every year of Hope’s life.

All addressed to me.

All unopened.

Claire gripped the arms of her wheelchair.

“I begged you.”

Helena looked at her younger daughter.

“I was ashamed.”

“You were afraid,” Claire said. “There’s a difference.”

My mother admitted Grant had convinced her that exposing the truth would destroy the company, send Claire to prison, and leave Hope trapped in court proceedings.

“So you did nothing,” I said.

“I preserved what your father built.”

“You preserved a building, a logo, and a stock price.”

I pointed toward Hope.

“That is what you sacrificed.”

Hope did not cry.

She simply looked at the enormous library and asked, “Did you ever buy me a birthday present?”

Helena pressed one hand over her mouth.

“No.”

Hope nodded as though she had expected the answer.

As we turned to leave, my mother called my name.

“I still have the document Grant made me sign.”