Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
After three more sessions with Isabelle, I feel like I’m suffocating with frustration.
Her story is so mundane and boring. I stare at her.
Today she’s dressed as a cowgirl, and I can almost see my face in her glossy ruby lips.
It’s fascinating. Her brilliant white teeth surrounded by red lips are a focal point as if it’s just the lips talking to me.
Her mouth dominates her face and I wonder if the look is intentional.
After a time, it’s very distracting especially as nothing she is saying is the least bit interesting.
I clear my throat and try to meet her gaze.
“Isabelle, no one is going to purchase a book that is all about poor me, poor me, poor me. There must be something in your past that is illegal or exciting to some degree.”
“My entire life is exciting, darling, but some things are just too private.” Isabelle taps her lips and then pulls a tissue from a box to remove the lipstick from her fingertips.
“The night I had Mia, Linc was on tour and I was stuck in the middle of a hurricane. I left the hotel where he was staying because I wanted to come home to have the baby. She wasn’t due for two weeks and I was surprised when the pains started.
I couldn’t get to my hospital; the roads were closed and trees were down all over.
My driver stopped at the nearest medical center.
I had no choice; my pains were three minutes apart.
” She stares into the distance. “The maternity ward, if you could call it one, was a single room with curtains between the beds. I gave birth next to a very young girl, who screamed the entire time. She’d been the victim of rape. ”
Like my mom. I swallow hard, pushing down bile. “The poor girl. Did you get to meet her?”
“Yeah, well, we were only separated by a curtain.” She gave me a long look.
“Mia hardly cried, but her baby came into the world angry. The girl refused to hold it and the nurse placed it in a crib beside her.” She shook her head.
“I went to speak to her to stop her crying and tried to help her but then she told me her baby’s father raped and tried to murder her.
She’d been in a coma for months. The poor girl.
I looked at the baby and she was so pretty.
I picked her up and she stopped crying and sucked on her fingers. ”
Hardly able to speak, I lean forward in my chair. “What happened to the baby?”
“The girl told me the baby would be taken away for adoption the moment the hurricane went through but she didn’t want to touch her, so I told the nurse I would feed her because the poor woman was run off her feet.” Isabelle smiles and tosses her head. “You see, I do have a heart.”
Heart pounding, I clear my throat. “How long were you stranded?”
“Three days.” Isabelle sighs. “Someone came to take the girl away and later that day, the children’s services took the baby. I often wondered what became of her.”
I nod, wanting to be out of the room. “Was this in Florida?”
“Yes. A little place called Lights Medical Center.” She sighs. “Is that enough for one day?”
Dizzy with excitement, I stand. That’s the same place where I could have been born.
I just need to look up Mia’s birthdate. If it’s close to mine, it’s possible the girl in the next bed to Isabelle was my mother.
I fight to control my hands shaking as I collect my things.
“Yes, thanks. I’ll be doing research for a time.
We’ll talk again soon.” I hurry out the door and practically run to my bedroom.
I check Mia’s birthdate and it’s the same as mine.
Isabelle said Mia was born before the poor girl delivered in the next bed.
It fits my story. Suddenly I know what I need to do; I need to find my mother.
But how can I find her if her name is sealed?
There’s only one person who would know her name—my real father.
I call Sam. “Years have passed since you told me you adopted me.”
“Where is this leading, Alani?” Sam sounds irritated.
I smile. “It’s time you told me the name of my father. I could research him. It wouldn’t be too difficult to find a child rapist who put a girl in a coma, but much easier if you told me. I need to know to protect myself. I believe Isabelle was there at the clinic when I was born.”
“Isabelle?” He snorts. “Has she been making up stories again?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “Everything she says fits. She met my birth mom, and the only person who knows her name is my crazy father. I want his name.”
“No, Alani.” Sam blows out a long sigh. “It’s not in your best interest. Let it go before it destroys you. This is becoming an unhealthy obsession.”
I need this information and shake my head as if he’s in the room. “No, it’s not unhealthy to want to know where I came from. I’m not giving up. I’ll search the newspapers until I find his name but I stupidly believed you’d tell me. Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again.”
“Okay, okay.” Sam waits for a long beat. “Clifton Barnes, he’s doing time at the state pen. He’s a psychopath—you can’t believe anything he says.”
I nod and write down the name but it’s already seared in my brain. “Thanks.”
I search the web for details of Clifton Barnes.
I’m horrified at the stories about him in the press.
The man makes my skin crawl and worse, my research on psychopaths tells me they’re not all killers but it can be hereditary.
The good news is I haven’t killed anyone—yet—but it also means I can become a danger.
The idea concerns me, but knowing is a good deterrent to stop becoming angry with anyone.
I do a search for the prison details and discover they have non-contact visits in two days.
I send an email asking to visit on the pretext of writing a story about serial killers.
I give them my credentials and wait. Now I understand why my mother gave me away and it makes me more determined to find her.
She needs to know I’m not like him—maybe I’m more like her?
Although, I doubt she’d like to see me roll up on her doorstep.
I can imagine the meeting. “Hi Mom—it’s me. The kid you gave away.”
I press send on the request to visit Clifton Barnes.
I’m scrolling through social media later that day when the email chimes.
I hesitate to open the official email from the prison.
A wave of excitement—or is it fear?—cramps my belly.
Clifton Barnes has agreed to meet me. Finally, I’m going to meet my dad.
My heart pounds. Is this going to open doors for me or have I just made the biggest mistake of my life?