I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
She placed the envelope on the table.
“Some of Ellie’s early medical records were incomplete. Tom and I asked the agency to review them because we wanted to understand her medical history.”
I waited.
“They found discrepancies.”
“What kind of discrepancies?”
She slowly opened the envelope.
Inside were several documents.
The first was an official notice explaining that some details in Ellie’s original placement records were inaccurate.
The second summarized information recovered during the review.
Halfway down the page was a hospital name.
I recognized it instantly.
My heart began pounding.
“Nora…”
She watched my face.
“Keep reading.”
I looked back at the document.
It described an infant girl who had entered emergency protective care five years earlier.
There were inconsistencies between the hospital identification information and the records used when the child entered the care system.
Then I saw the date.
The same week Lucy had been born.
I pushed the paper away.
“No.”
Nora reached toward me.
“Claire—”
“No. That doesn’t mean anything.”
My voice sounded strange.
“Babies are born at that hospital every day. There could be hundreds of children with similar records.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you showing me this?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Because there’s something else.”
She took out another document.
I stared at it without moving.
Then Nora explained.
“When the agency noticed the dates and hospital information, the caseworker suggested investigating whether Ellie might have a biological connection to someone in our family.”
I felt cold.
“What are you saying?”
“Remember last week, when you agreed to provide a cheek swab?”
I nodded slowly.
Nora had told me that the agency wanted additional family medical information because the records suggested a possible biological relationship.
At the time, nobody
could tell us whether that connection would be close or distant.
I’d agreed because I wanted Ellie to have accurate health records.
I’d never expected anything like this.
“They completed a preliminary comparison,” Nora whispered.
She slid the report toward me.
I looked down.
My name was printed near the top.
