Chapter Eighteen
Istepped closer to the glass, then cleared my throat. “May I speak to Reagan?”
“Reagan?” the woman said in confusion.
“Yes, I think her last name might still be Coughlin.”
The woman shook her head. “There’s no one working here with either of those names. If it’s a patient you’re looking for—”
“No, she just came back inside, so she must work here. She’s about 5’8 and has long red hair—”
“We have four redheads that work here. Are you sure her name is Reagan?”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I might’ve had the name wrong. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“It’s not a problem. If you’re looking for her to make an appointment, Jessie,” she said, pointing to the next window, “can do that for you.”
“No appointment is necessary. Thank you.”
I turned and headed to the door, and on my way out, I felt a slight pull on my hoodie. I looked down at an older woman sitting in the chair closest to the door. “You might be looking for Rowan, hun. She just went into the back.”
“Rowan?” I said, and she smiled.
“Such a sweet, young wom—”
“Mrs. Brand,” a man called out, and she smiled at me before releasing my sweatshirt from her tiny hands.
“I’m right here,” the woman said, and as she struggled to stand, I quickly sprang into motion and had just helped her onto her feet when the medical assistant arrived. “This man is looking for Rowan,” she said to the guy.
He looked up at me. “She just left for the day.” He then turned away from me and went to tend to the woman.
“Thanks,” I said to them both before heading back outside.
I still had this job to do for my grandfather, and with the woman gone, I wouldn’t be able to get any answers now anyway.
I would get them. First things first, though.
I quickly made it to the subway, and once seated, I pulled out my cell phone.
I typed in the name of the clinic, then went to the staff page.
There were several people listed, including the man who had just helped the old lady.
There was no Rowan, or Reagan, but that meant nothing.
She might’ve just started working there.
The subway train reached my stop, and I headed straight to the mayor’s office. I was to hand deliver him a message, a tactic my daideó liked to employ. He’d never been one to leave digital trails of anything behind, and since it had worked out so well for him thus far, I wouldn’t question it.
Once I made the drop off, I exited his office and looked up to see that the sky had drastically darkened in the fifteen or twenty minutes that I had been inside.
Now was the time that I wished I had gone ahead and just driven here.
If I had though, I never would’ve literally run into the young girl, or the woman who could at least be related to the one I had loved.
Was this her sister? I knew she had one, but I’d known very little about her.
As a loud boom of thunder sounded overhead, I saw a nearby sandwich shop and decided to wait out the impending storm there.
It would also provide me some time to do more research on this Rowan, and this Ciara, if nothing else.
If the young girl was six, there was the smallest possibility that she could be mine as Reagan could’ve gotten pregnant before the one school year ended and I was sent to spend the summer from Hell underground on my grandfather’s estate.
I put my hood back onto my head, then hurried across the crosswalk with the other pedestrians who were also quickly trying to get somewhere warm and dry.
I felt the first few pelts of rain as I reached the doorway of the shop.
Escaping inside, I wiped my feet on the doormat, then took a seat at a vacant table in the corner.
This shop allowed you to place an order via your cell phone, so I scanned the QR code for the menu, then perused the food and drink offerings.
I hadn’t even been hungry before getting here, but now that I smelled pastrami in the air, my stomach began to rumble.
I hadn’t eaten all day, so I could take care of that while also riding out this storm.
I ultimately decided upon the corned beef sandwich on rye and fried chips on the side.
I also ordered a beer, and it wasn’t long before the tray was set down in front of me.
I began to eat and had polished off half of my sandwich and beer before turning my attention back to the clinic.
She hadn’t been on their page of employees, but that meant nothing.
I typed in her first name and the clinic’s name, which returned one result that included both search terms. I clicked on the article, which was about a low-cost vaccination program the clinic was running for those without insurance, and there was a photograph of a number of their employees.
Their names were listed underneath, and as I zoomed in to make them bigger, I finally located the one I was looking for.
“Rowan Lynch,” I said aloud.
I moved back to the picture, and after counting the number of names and faces, my cell phone nearly dropped from my hand. As much as I recognized my mother’s face in this Ciara, there was no mistaking who this face belonged to.
I’d heard the expression of having had the rug pulled out from underneath you, but I had never truly lived it until now. As I stared down into a face I had only seen in my dreams, my heart began to race as my pulse quickened.
“Anamchara,” I murmured softly as my thumb stroked over her face.
She had survived and carried what had to be our child to term, so why did she not reach out to me afterward?
The blade from earlier twisted in the opposite direction now.
My heart was shattering back into pieces as it had been that morning on that godforsaken mountain road when I thought I had lost everything.
In actuality, I might not have lost anything.
Did my grandfather know?
No, he was cruel, and because of that, he never would’ve let her live.
He had been so proud to show me her eyes, and he had even psychotically kept them for as long as he could preserve them as a means to punish me.
My daideó would’ve certainly returned to finish the job had he’d known his men had missed.
How in the hell did this happen?
I continued to stare at her face, and upon doing so, I finally closed my eyes.
It was then that I remembered the two of us in the woods near that tree with our initials carved into it, and on the pier, under it, and inside the school.
And everything hadn’t even been just about sex, especially those first few weeks when we’d just been getting to know one another.
The hand holding, stolen kisses, and soft caresses came rushing back with so much force that I physically felt it in my chest.
My eyes felt as if they wanted to water, but I’d learned a long time ago how to stop that, so I did.
It didn’t lessen the pain I was experiencing in déjà vu as I remembered nearly every moment the two of us had spent together.
She’d promised to be mine forever, but she had betrayed me.
I now couldn’t honestly decide whose betrayal was worse.
The man who claimed to love me, but constantly used me as a pawn, or the woman who claimed to love me, then faked her death and ran off with our child.
This doesn’t make any sense. Reagan would never do this to me.
I shook my head, then erased the search field and decided to put both Rowan and Reagan’s names together to see if there was a tie. Was it possibly a middle name, or a nickname? Nothing was making sense to me, until...
Elin and Reagan Coughlin found murdered at Summit Crest Preparatory School, and survived by daughter and sister, Rowan Coughlin.
My cell phone did fall from my hands in that moment.
The room began to spin, and those panic attacks I’d had since that summer came roaring back with a vengeance.
I clutched the edge of the table and closed my eyes while desperately trying to calm myself down.
My knuckles were white at this point, and I had more sweat coating me than rain had if I had just stayed outside in it.
And as I thought about the rain, I could hear it outside the windows.
I could also hear the loud rumbles of thunder and nearly feel the intensity of the lightning as the skies raged.
And wept. Much like I was doing in this moment, as it all started to make sense.
It was all coming back to me now, and I knew how she had gotten away with it.
My grandfather had killed your sister, so you took her name. Then, you ran and let me believe you were dead, to mourn you along with everyone else.
“Sir, are you okay?” I heard.
I reopened my eyes and looked up at the one who’d brought me my food earlier. “I am, but could I get a box and bag for the rest of this food?”
“Certainly. I’ll bring those to you.”
She disappeared, and I looked back down at the article. This Rowan Lynch was Reagan Coughlin, and I intended to prove it. Once I did, I had no idea what I would do to her, but I would take back my child. A daughter. I almost couldn’t believe it.
The woman returned with both, so I used the wax paper to wrap up what was left of my sandwich and fries before stuffing them into the box and then the bag.
I spent another ten or fifteen minutes inside the shop as I finished my beer and waited for the storm outside to be over.
Once done with the bottle, the skies and the rain had lightened up enough for me to leave.
I needed to get home and do some more research. I would then devise a plan.