Chapter 3 - THE RING THAT SHOULDN'T EXIST
“That ring was buried with him.”
Dominic stared at my mother as though she'd just opened a grave in front of us.
Detective Reyes put down her pen.
“Mr. Caruso, are you certain?”
He nodded.
“I was at my father's funeral. My aunt insisted the ring stay on his hand.”
Mom looked confused.
“But I saw it.”
“Are you sure it was the same ring?”
“A gold ring with a black stone. There was a little lion carved into it.”
Dominic's face tightened.
“That was my father's ring.”
I looked from one to the other.
“Then someone took it before the funeral.”
Dominic shook his head.
“Or someone made another one.”
Detective Reyes raised her hand.
“Let's not settle on either conclusion yet.”
She turned to Mom.
“Mrs. Sullivan, tell me exactly what happened that night.”
Mom drew Dominic's jacket closer around her legs.
For a while, she simply stared at the silver bird in her palm.
Then she began.
“It was late. I was living in a little house on Belmont Avenue. I'd just come home from my evening shift at the hospital laundry.”
I knew that house.
It was where I'd grown up.
The kitchen had crooked cabinets.
The back steps always needed painting.
And every Christmas, Mom hung paper snowflakes in the windows.
“Evelyn came with Maggie,” she continued.
“The little girl was crying. She had a scrape on her knee and wouldn't let go of her mother's coat.”
Something stirred inside me.
A dark blue coat.
Rainwater on a kitchen floor.
Someone saying, Hold on to the bird, sweetheart.
I closed my eyes.
I didn't know whether it was a real memory or something my frightened mind had invented.
Mom continued.
“Evelyn said she needed me to keep the child safe until she could come back.”
“How did you know Evelyn?” Detective Reyes asked.
“We'd worked together at a neighborhood clinic before she married Salvatore Caruso.”
Dominic looked surprised.
“You knew my mother?”
Mom nodded.
“She was a kind woman.”
Her eyes filled.
“She used to bring sandwiches for the night staff because she knew some of us couldn't afford dinner.”
I glanced at Dominic.
He was staring at his hands.
For the first time, his mother was becoming more than a missing name.
She was a woman someone had known.
Someone who brought sandwiches.
Someone who remembered tired workers.
“What happened after she left Maggie?” the detective asked.
Mom swallowed.
“She told me not to answer the door to anyone who mentioned the Caruso family.”
Dominic flinched.
“She was afraid of us?”
“She was afraid someone had betrayed your father.”
“Who?”
“She didn't know.”
I leaned forward.
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
“No. She said she needed to find proof that someone had stolen money from Salvatore's business.”
Dominic looked up sharply.
“My father had suspected his accounts were being altered.”
Mom nodded.
“Evelyn said the same thing.”
Detective Reyes wrote quickly.
“Then what happened?”
“About an hour later, two men came.”
Mom's voice became smaller.
“Victor Rourke stood on the porch. The other man stayed behind him.”
“What did they say?”
“Rourke said Maggie belonged with her family. He told me I had no right to keep her.”
I felt sick.
“Where was I?”
“Under the kitchen table.”
Mom touched my hand.
“You wouldn't stop crying, so I gave you my rosary to hold.”
I remembered that rosary.
Small brown wooden beads.
A silver cross polished smooth by years of use.
It had hung beside my childhood bed.
I'd taken it with me when I moved into my first apartment.
“Did you let the men inside?” the detective asked.
“No.”
“Did either threaten you?”
“Rourke said I could lose my job. Then he said people sometimes had accidents when they interfered with family business.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“But the other man stopped him.”
Mom nodded.
“He said, ‘Leave the child. This isn't what we came for.’”
Dominic looked up.
“Did you recognize his voice?”
“No.”
“His face?”
“He wore a hat. It was dark.”
“Anything else?”
Mom thought carefully.
“He limped a little.”
Detective Reyes made a note.
Then Mom said, “And he had the ring.”
Dominic rubbed his face.
“My father had two business partners,” he said quietly. “Rourke handled finances. My uncle Raymond handled property.”
“Could it have been Raymond?” I asked.
Dominic hesitated.
“He had a bad knee.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where is he now?”
“He died six years ago.”
The room fell silent.
Dominic continued.
“He helped raise me after my father died.”
Mom looked down.
“I'm sorry.”
Dominic shook his head.
“Don't apologize for telling the truth.”
But I could see how badly it hurt him.
He'd spent his adult life searching for the family he'd lost.
And now the man who'd helped raise him might have known where his little sister was.
Detective Reyes turned toward me.
“Miss Sullivan, how did you become June's legal daughter?”
“Mom adopted me the following year.”
She nodded.
“The adoption was handled through the county.”
The detective looked toward June.
“Do you still have those records?”
“At home, in a tin box.”
Then Mom hesitated.
“Or they used to be there.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Last month, someone from Willow Gardens asked Maggie to bring my personal documents.”
I frowned.
“I brought your insurance card and identification.”
Mom shook her head.
“They asked me for the adoption papers, too.”
My heart started pounding.
“Who?”
“Mr. Vance.”
Dominic looked toward Leo.
“Has the facility been secured?”
“The police are reviewing the records now.”
Mom began shaking.
“He told me Maggie wasn't really my daughter because I didn't have the right papers.”
I stared at her.
“He said that?”
She nodded.
“He told me if I couldn't prove I was her mother, he could stop her visiting.”
I reached for her hand.
“Mom, why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought he might be right.”
I felt tears burning behind my eyes.
Thirty-one years.
She'd raised me.
Fed me.
Loved me.
And some man in an expensive suit had made her question whether she was entitled to call herself my mother.
Dominic leaned toward her.
“June, nobody can erase what you've been to Maggie.”
She began crying.
Detective Reyes quietly closed her notebook.
Then Leo approached.
“Boss, there's something important.”
He held a printed copy of an old corporate filing.
Dominic studied it.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Public business records.”
I looked at the document.
It listed a company formed in 1996.
The year after I'd disappeared.
Its original directors were Victor Rourke and Raymond Caruso.
Beneath their names was a third signature.
Dominic stared at it.
Then whispered, “That's my mother's name.”
I looked at him.
“But Evelyn was missing.”
May you like
He nodded slowly.
“And according to this, she helped Rourke and Raymond establish the company that eventually bought Willow Gardens.”
