The Parent Trap

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Carly Lewis

POV

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, I kept telling myself it was excitement. That the rush I was feeling was the excitement from finally having a clue as to who I was. After three years of dead ends and unanswered questions, I was finally close to finding the person I used to be.

Who Carly Lewis really was. This was something real. Something tangible. Something that could help unlock the door that’s been blocking my memory.

When I got to the bank and explained how I didn’t have a key. And how I lost my memory so I didn’t know where it was. It took a half an hour to verify who I was and the bank had to break open the lock to my box. The bank manager Fred led me into a private room, took out my box and placed it on a table in the middle of the room.

He then left me alone with my safety deposit box. The heavy metal door clicked shut behind him.

Silence filled the room, the cold of the room soothe my nerves and my hands finally stopped shaking.

I stared at the small metal box sitting on the table in front of me. It’s been in this room for five years. Whatever was inside had been waiting here for five years. What was so important for me to hide it here?

My heart hammered against my chest. For a moment, I couldn’t do anything but simply stared at it. My fingers brushed against the lid.

I look a deep breath and finally opened it.

Anticipation rushed through my entire being. I had questions, I had hope to finally finding out who I was before the accident. And a part of me feared I wouldn’t like the answers inside this box.

I honestly wasn’t prepared for what I found in the box. It was beyond what I imagined.

At the very top sat a tiny pink baby hairbrush.

I blinked. What was this doing here?

My excitement faltered. I was filled with more questions than answers, what was I thinking when I put this here?

Carefully, I picked it up and examined it.

The brush looked used, there was tiny strands of hairs in it.

Beneath it sat a pink folded baby blanket.

My stomach twisted.

Slowly, I unfolded it. My breath stopped.

Embroidered into one corner in white cursive were seven letters.

Stella.

I stared.

I held the blanket in my hands unsure of how I should feel. Why did I have Stella’s blanket for five years.

Chase assured me we didn’t know one another before. He didn’t remember me. Did I steal this?

My mind struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. In fact I was half sure I was seeing an illusion.

Stella. I say her name in my mind.

This didn’t feel like a coincidence. No not when I just met Chase and Stella. Not when for the last three years I couldn’t find a trace of my former self and now I was finding something that belonged to a Stella between my belongings. It wasn’t a coincidence when that same little girl attached herself to me the moment we met. I always thought it was because I saved her. But could there be more it it? Did I know Stella, was I working for the family but Chase didn’t know?

My heart began pounding harder.

No. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? Chase wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t vet first near Stella.

With trembling hands, I reached deeper into the box.

A manila envelope sat underneath the blanket.

My fingers felt numb, I was almost too scared to look in it. It would break me if there were pictures of me stalking Chase and Stella. It would mean I was dangerous. I was a danger to the little girl who stole my heart.

The envelope looked old. Worn even. Like it had been opened and sealed multiple times.

My name wasn’t on it, there wasn’t anything written on it.

I opened it.

A single document slid out.

I frowned.

Then my eyes landed on the heading.

DNA PATERNITY AND MATERNITY REPORT

My breath caught.

At first I was confused. What did this mean?

I looked lower and lower, my eyes skimming through the document.

And then my world felt like it had collapsed.

The paper slipped from my fingers. Onto the table.

Tears ran down my face, but I didn’t care.

No!

No!

No!

I kept screaming in my head. This couldn’t be...

I grabbed the paper up making sure I didn’t read it wrong the first time. My eyes raced across the page again. Hoping for a different answer to the first.

Reading the same lines over and over again. Hoping the words would change. I was refusing to believe them.

One name.

Stella Jacobs.

The other name.

Carly Lewis.

And another.

Chase Jacobs.

I didn’t see the Paternity test here. It wasn’t in the envelope. I didn’t know where it was.

My stomach dropped. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

The report stated a biological relationship. A Mother and daughter relationship.

Ninety-nine point nine percent probability or parentage.

I stopped breathing, the room suddenly felt too small, too cold, I was shivering from the cold, the room felt too quiet all of a sudden as well.

Mother.

I was a mother?

The word echoed through my head. I kept hearing it over and over and over again.

Mother.

Was this real?

Stella.

Sweet little Stella.

The little girl who clung to me like I was her last life line. The little girl who insisted I sleep with her every night. The little girl was my daughter?

I stood there in stunned silence, unable to move an inch. How did this happen? Chase and I? I was unable to form cohesive thoughts. Unable to process what I’d just read. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Half an hour passed before the bank manager knocked on the door.

"Miss Lewis?" His voice sounded distant.

I almost didn’t hear him.

It almost felt like I was under water and I couldn’t hear anything.

I look up at him slowly.

The concern on his face deepened immediately. "Miss Lewis?"

I swallowed, my throat felt dry.

"I..." My voice cracked.

I looked down at the paper again. The words hadn’t changed, the results remained the same as the last ten times I’ve looked at it. Nothing had changed, except that was wrong because to me everything had changed.

All I could think about was that Stella might be my daughter.

The question sent shivers down my spine.

I thought about Chase. About what he told me that night we were honest with one another. How Stella was delivered to him. About how Stella’s mother had abandoned her. The way Chase’s face hardened whenever he thought about how she’d never even showed up for Stella.

A part of me knew he hated the woman, hell a part of me has come to hate her as well.

The woman who had walked away from Stella, had that woman been me all along? I could understand the last three years. But what about the two years before that?

My stomach twisted violently. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought.

Why?

Why would I leave my child?

Nothing about Stella made me want to leave her, I didn’t want to leave her. I was thinking of all sorts of ways to tell Amy I didn’t want to leave Stella. Was I in some sort of trouble and left to protect Stella?

Because every instinct I had screamed to protect her, to bring her nothing but happiness.

So why? Why did I leave her?

The questions just kept piling up. One after another. With no answers to my questions.

This box didn’t bring me answers if anything it only added more confusions to who I used to be, more mysteries to who I was. I felt like there were more holes in the life I used to live.

I packed everything into my bag carefully. I didn’t want to damage anything.

Then I rushed out of the bank in a hurry, I needed answers, real answers for once. Not assumptions or theories swarming my mind. But facts for once. The assumptions and theories all but consumed all of me.

The hospital was only twenty minutes away, but even in my uber, it felt like it took us two hours to get here.

The entire drive, my thoughts raced, a part of me hoped the report was fake, maybe there was another Stella Jacobs out there. Maybe the hairbrush didn’t belong to her.

Then another part of me wanted her to be my daughter, I’d finally have family.

I nearly ran through the hospital doors.

The receptionist looked startled by me bumping into the reception desk.

"I need a DNA test." I tell her. I was clearly out of breath.

She blinked at me. "Ma’am—"

"Please." I begged. The tears in eyes must have convinced her because within twenty minutes, I was sitting across from a doctor.

I handed him the report, the baby brush and the blanket. Everything in the box.

"I need to verify these. I need answers please..."

The doctor adjusted his glasses, he looked at me before he began reading the report.

His expression slowly shifted, when he was done, he finally looked up. "This is only half the report I’m assuming the paternity is with the father. Though this report appears legitimate. I don’t see any discrepancies."

My heart stopped for a second.

The report appears legitimate, it didn’t look fake or forged. No the words that came out of his mouth were legitimate.

The room spun slightly, I was feeling light headed by the sudden news.

"I want another test please." I begged.

I needed to be sure.

The doctor nodded.

"We can do that."

Relief washed through me.

He examined the brush.

"If this belonged to the child, we can attempt to retrieve a sample. Though I’d prefer of we had a fresh sample." he says.

He retrieved my saliva for my sample.

"I want to know for sure." I said once we were done.

The doctor nodded again.

"We’ll process everything immediately Miss Lewis."

"How long will it take to get the results?" I asked.

I hoping to have answers today.

"The results should be out between seven to ten days."

My stomach sank.

Seven to ten days.

That felt like an eternity from now.

I nod anyway, it wasn’t like I could rush them when they were doing me a favour.

The doctor carefully gathered the evidence.

As he stood, I stopped him.

"Doctor?" frёewebnoѵēl.com

He turned.

"If..." I hesitated. "If she is my daughter..." My voice cracked. "Would she be okay? I feel like I abandoned her..."

The doctor looked surprised at first before his expression softened. "I’m sure she would be Miss Lewis. She’ll understand you didn’t have any memory of having her."

I nod unsure if I could blame the accident.

But as he walked away, tears burned behind my eyes again.

Because for the first time since waking up three years ago, I wasn’t wondering who I was. I was wondering something far more terrifying.

What kind of mother had I been to abandon a three month old baby. A baby who couldn’t defend herself. And why couldn’t I remember my own child?