Chapter Eleven #2
Absurd, because we'd all seen too much ugliness before we were old enough to drive. We didn't need to be shielded. Try telling that to Aiden, Gage, and the rest of them.
I thrust the stack of files and the envelope at Aiden. He carefully took them and asked, "Where do I start?"
"Three of the folders are from when Aunt Anna was in the hospital with Gage, Vance and Annalise, and then Tate.
" Aiden opened the folders one by one and scanned their contents, nodding in agreement.
"But the fourth," I went on, my voice shaking.
"The fourth is from July of 1981. Before she married Uncle James.
The hospital was in Virginia, not Atlanta.
In the envelope . . . those look like adoption papers, Aiden. Is that what they are?"
Aiden turned the stiff manila envelope over in his hands.
"Did you open this? Or did you find it this way?"
He raised the ragged flap I'd torn a few minutes before and eased out the stack of papers.
"It was sealed. I opened it. But Aiden, all of this was in a new bin. Wouldn't this stuff have been put away years ago?"
His eyes flicking back and forth across the papers, absorbing every word, Aiden said absently, "There was a leak in the attic a few years ago.
Must have been while you were in Texas for that internship after you graduated.
Mrs. Williamson re-packed some of the damaged boxes in new bins. But none of us went through any of it."
We fell silent as Aiden reviewed each sheet of paper from the envelope. A stapled stack of legal size documents and something that looked like an official certificate, gilt gleaming from the border and a round seal in the corner.
I paced in front of his desk until he shot me a quelling glance over the papers. I sat, obedient for once, in one of the big leather chairs opposite Aiden's desk, wishing I hadn't drunk all of Aiden's whiskey.
That Macallan would've come in handy.
After what felt like hours, Aiden swept the papers back into a neat pile and slid them into the envelope, carefully sealing it shut. He lay his palms flat on the surface of his desk and let out a long breath.
"It looks like Aunt Anna gave birth to a baby boy July 6, 1981, and put him up for adoption.
There's no information in that file on the family who adopted him or what his name might be.
Or who the father is. I'm making two guesses—that Uncle James knew about this, or Anna never would've brought these papers to the house, and that he wasn't the father. "
"So you didn't know?" I asked. It didn't seem like Aiden knew, but I had to be sure. He shook his head.
"Of course not. I may not tell you everything, Charlie, but I'd never keep a secret like this."
"But wasn't Aunt Anna already with Uncle James in July of 1981?" I asked, trying to piece the timeline together in my mind.
"It's hard to say. They all knew each other back then, Uncle James, Dad, Mom, Aunt Anna, William—hell, half of their friends were from college.
I know James and Anna knew each other, and they started dating some time around then because they got married a year later. But the only one who would know the exact timeline is William."
"We’re not going to talk to William about this, are we?" I asked.
I loved William. I called him Uncle William most of my childhood, even though he wasn't a relative, and he'd done his best since our parents had died to step in and speak for them the way he thought they would've wanted him to.
He loved us, and we loved him. Lately, though, we'd been clashing. I wasn't there, but I'd heard from Vance, Emily, and Jo that he'd been awful about Abigail when she first got together with Jacob.
I was dreading talking to him about Aiden firing me. I knew he'd say something archaic like, "Now you can focus on finding a husband," or something stupid like that.
William was all about proper behavior. He was on the board of the country club and expected all of us to behave in a manner befitting the Winters name.
He'd been disappointed a lot in the past fifteen years. I knew there was no way he would support our attempt to find an illegitimate child our aunt had given up for adoption.
"Talking to William would certainly clear things up," Aiden said. "But I think we need to have a family meeting and then bring the Sinclairs in. If anyone can find Anna's son, they can. Once we find him, we can decide what we want to do."
"Do you want me to stay quiet about this?" I asked.
"Not for long. Vance and Magnolia get home in a few days. I don't want to tell everyone else without them."
That made sense. A few more days wouldn't change anything. Still, this was huge. It felt weird to just sit on the information. We should be trying to find this mysterious missing Winters child.
"Okay," I reluctantly agreed. "We can wait."
"You look like you need a drink," Aiden said. "I'd offer you one, but someone seems to have absconded with my best whiskey."
"That's terrible," I said, trying not to smile. "What kind of fiend would do such a thing?"
"Are you still mad at me?" Aiden asked.
"I'm too busy to be mad at you," I said.
I wasn't ready to admit that I forgave him. He didn't deserve to be let off the hook that easily.
He stood up from behind his desk and said, "Did you find what you were looking for upstairs? Before this?" He gestured at the papers on his desk.
"I found enough." I'd lost interest in looking through any more of the bins.
Aiden rounded his desk and I stood. Slinging one arm around my shoulder, he tugged me into his side, dropping his head to kiss my hair.
"Come on, show me which one it is and I'll carry it down for you."
I rose up on my toes to kiss his cheek. "You're a pain in the ass, Aiden, but I love you."
I didn't forgive him. But it didn't matter. I loved him anyway and I always would.