Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE NAVY DRESSMargaret Winslow had spent her entire life knowing how to look innocent.
Sofia’s voice was barely audible.
Charles took another step toward her.
“Sofia—”
“Don’t.”
She backed away so quickly that her heel struck the leg of a chair.
The guests surrounding them had become a blurred wall of frightened, fascinated faces.
Sofia wanted to disappear.
Five minutes earlier she had been humiliated as a suspected thief.
Now one of the richest men in Massachusetts was claiming to be her father.
It was absurd.
“My mother was Elena Martinez,” Sofia said. “She raised me. She was my mother.”
“Nobody is saying otherwise,” Charles answered.
Victoria snapped toward him.
“You knew?”
Charles flinched.
Victoria repeated the question.
“Did you know she was alive?”
“I didn’t know Sofia was here.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
The anger in Victoria’s voice cut through the ballroom.
“Did you know our daughter lived?”
Charles looked toward Dr. Bell.
The elderly physician stood beside the locked ballroom doors with two security officers nearby.
“I suspected it years later.”
Victoria’s face went still.
“Years later?”
“Victoria, please.”
“How many years?”
Charles didn’t answer.
She walked toward him.
“How many?”
“Twelve.”
The slap echoed across the ballroom.
Charles’s head turned sharply.
Nobody breathed.
Victoria stared at him.
“You knew for twelve years?”
“I said I suspected.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I couldn’t prove it.”
“So you decided your wife didn’t deserve to know?”
Charles lowered his voice.
“There were reasons.”
“There is no reason on earth.”
Sofia suddenly spoke.
“Stop.”
Victoria and Charles turned.
Sofia’s hands were shaking violently.
“I don’t understand any of this.”
She pointed toward the photograph.
“My mother gave me that picture before she died.”
“When?” Charles asked.
“Almost twelve years ago.”
Charles’s expression changed.
“How did Elena die?”
“Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that like you knew her.”
Charles stared at her.
Sofia saw grief in his eyes.
Real grief.
That made everything worse.
“She told me you were an old family friend,” Sofia continued. “She said if I ever had nowhere else to go, I should find you.”
Victoria looked sharply at Charles.
“And did you?”
Sofia shook her head.
“I didn’t even know who he was then.”
She pointed toward the mansion around them.
“I didn’t know Charles Sterling was the man in the photograph until tonight.”
Charles looked stunned.
“Then how did you end up working here?”
“I answered a housekeeping advertisement.”
Nobody spoke.
The coincidence was almost impossible.
Sofia laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“My mother told me never to ask questions about my father. She said he was gone before I was born.”
Victoria’s voice softened despite herself.
“Did Elena ever tell you where you were born?”
“St. Matthew’s Medical Center.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
The same hospital.
Dr. Bell shifted near the door.
Charles saw him.
“What happened on October 12, 1998?” he demanded.
Bell’s face hardened.
“I don’t think this is the place.”
“You had twenty-eight years to choose a place.”
“Charles.”
“Answer me.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“You told me my daughter was dead.”
Bell looked at her.
“I told you what I was instructed to tell you.”
The sentence hit harder than a scream.
Victoria’s mouth opened.
“Instructed by whom?”
Bell looked away.
Charles moved toward him.
“Arthur.”
The doctor’s shoulders sagged.
“Your father.”
Victoria froze.
“My father?”
Dr. Bell nodded.
Edmund Sterling had been dead eight years.
During his lifetime, he had controlled one of New England’s most powerful banking families.
He had also controlled nearly everyone around him.
Victoria had loved and feared him in equal measure.
“No,” she whispered.
Dr. Bell continued reluctantly.
“Your father arrived at the hospital approximately forty minutes after the delivery.”
Victoria remembered almost nothing from that night.
She had suffered severe hemorrhaging and had been placed under heavy sedation.
“The baby had respiratory complications,” Bell said. “But they were manageable.”
Victoria stared at him.
“You told Charles she died.”
Bell looked at Charles.
“I never spoke to Charles directly.”
Charles’s jaw tightened.
“My father-in-law did.”
“Yes.”
The room seemed colder.
Bell removed his glasses.
“Mr. Sterling told me there were… family considerations.”
“What considerations?” Sofia asked.
Bell looked at her for the first time.
She saw guilt flood his face.
“He believed the child would destroy the family.”
Sofia gave a disbelieving laugh.
“I was a newborn.”
Bell hesitated.
Charles noticed.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Bell looked toward Victoria.
“Edmund believed Charles was not the father.”
Victoria recoiled.
Charles stared at his wife.
A murmur swept through the guests.
Victoria’s expression turned furious.
“My father accused me of adultery?”
“He had received information.”
“From whom?”
Bell shook his head.
“I never knew.”
Victoria took a breath.
“I never cheated on my husband.”
Charles immediately said, “I know.”
She turned toward him.
“Do you?”
“I always did.”
“Apparently my father didn’t.”
Bell spoke quietly.
“He ordered me to prepare documents showing the infant had died.”
Victoria stared at the doctor.
“You falsified my daughter’s death certificate.”
“Yes.”
Someone among the guests gasped.
Bell looked ashamed.
“I was thirty-six years old. Mr. Sterling financed half the expansion of St. Matthew’s. He threatened my career, my medical license, everything.”
“And that made it acceptable?”
“No.”
For the first time, Bell’s voice cracked.
“No. Nothing makes it acceptable.”
Sofia felt suddenly sick.
“Where did I go?”
Bell turned toward her.
“That’s where Elena came in.”
Sofia’s eyes narrowed.
“My mother?”
“She was a nurse’s aide in the maternity ward.”
Sofia had known Elena worked in hospitals before becoming a home-care worker, but she had never known where.
Bell continued.
“Elena overheard enough to understand what Edmund intended to do.”
Victoria whispered, “Which was?”
Bell hesitated too long.
Charles grabbed his jacket.
“What was he going to do with my daughter?”
“Charles!”
Two security guards moved, but Charles released Bell before they reached him.
Bell steadied himself.
“He intended to send the infant to a private institution in Vermont.”
Victoria’s face crumpled.
“Why?”
“Because early testing suggested a possible hereditary neurological disorder.”
Sofia stared.
“I don’t have any neurological disorder.”
“We later discovered the test had been wrong.”
Charles swore under his breath.
Bell nodded.
“But Edmund had already decided. A sick child, questions regarding paternity, possible scandal—he considered it unacceptable.”
Victoria covered her mouth.
Sofia suddenly understood something.
“Elena took me.”
Bell nodded.
“She disappeared from the hospital with you before Edmund’s driver arrived.”
Sofia’s knees weakened.
“My mother kidnapped me?”
“No.”
Bell shook his head.
“She saved you.”
Victoria began crying.
Not elegantly.
Not quietly.
The woman Sofia had known for three years as cold, demanding Victoria Sterling simply folded inward.
“My baby.”
Charles went toward her, but Victoria pushed him away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Sofia stood frozen.
She did not know whether she wanted to run toward Victoria or away from all of them.
Then one of the security officers approached.
“Mr. Sterling?”
Charles turned.
“We found Mrs. Sterling’s bracelet.”
Everyone looked up.
The officer held a small evidence pouch.
“It was upstairs.”
Victoria wiped her face.
“Where?”
The guard hesitated.
“Inside Mrs. Sterling’s jewelry cabinet.”
Victoria stared at him.
“That’s impossible. I checked it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who found it?”
“Another employee reported seeing someone enter your dressing room after you came downstairs.”
“Who?”
The officer glanced toward a group of guests.
Then he pointed.
A woman in an elegant navy gown stiffened.
Victoria recognized her instantly.
Her younger sister.
Margaret Sterling Winslow.
Margaret’s face drained of color.
And suddenly Sofia understood that the missing bracelet might never have been stolen at all.
It had been bait.
Someone wanted Victoria to search Sofia’s purse.
Someone wanted that photograph exposed.
Or destroyed.
Margaret took one slow step backward.
Victoria stared at her sister.
“What did you do?”
Margaret said nothing.
But her silence answered enough.
May you like
The secret was bigger than Dr. Bell.
And it had been sitting at Victoria’s own family table for twenty-eight years.
Related Stories
