Chapter 4 - The Adoptive IllusionThe paper glowed in the dark hallway, the words swimming before my eyes.
Certificate of Adoption.Child: Christopher Alan Vance.Adoptive Parent: Bernice Hayes.
I sank onto the bottom stair, the phone slipping from my fingers. I wasn't Bernice’s biological son. All my life, she had played the role of the ultimate martyr, reminding me constantly of the "sacrifices" she made as a single mother. But the truth was entirely different. I was someone else's child—taken, bought, or hidden away.
Footsteps padded softly down the stairs. Savannah stood on the landing, wrapped in a robe, her face pale.
"Chris? I heard shouting. Is she gone?" She stopped, seeing the devastation on my face. She hurried down and picked up the phone. Her eyes scanned the document, and a collective gasp escaped her lips.
"Oh, my God," Savannah whispered, dropping to her knees beside me. "Chris, this changes everything. If she's not your biological mother... why has she been so obsessed with controlling every aspect of your life, your marriage, and now our baby?"
"I don't know," I muttered, rubbing my temples as a splitting headache pounded behind my eyes. "She’s not just manipulative. She’s unhinged. And if she forged or stole an adoption... what else is she hiding?"
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the garage.
We both froze. I stood up instantly, grabbing a heavy metal umbrella stand from the entryway. "Stay here," I whispered to Savannah.
May you like
I crept toward the interior garage door, my heart hammering against my ribs. I slowly pushed the door open. The motion-activated light flickered on, illuminating our storage boxes—and a figure scrambling away from our filing cabinet.
It wasn't a burglar. It was Bernice.
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