"At Margaret's house."
Olivia frowned.
"What?"
"She's been staying there."
Olivia stared.
"Since when?"
"Since yesterday."
Olivia immediately reached for her phone.
"Why didn't Margaret tell me?"
Samantha shook her head.
"Because she doesn't know who Emily really is."
Olivia slowly lowered the phone.
"What do you mean?"
"Margaret believes Emily is a young woman who contacted the family about Daniel's estate. She doesn't know she's his daughter."
Olivia stood.
"Then we need to get home."
Meanwhile, at the Whitmore house, Margaret was sitting in the living room with a young woman.
The woman looked about twenty-four years old.
She had dark brown hair, gentle eyes, and a small scar near her left eyebrow.
She was wearing a cream-colored sweater and holding a cup of tea.
"Would you like another blanket?" Margaret asked.
The young woman smiled.
"No, thank you. You've already done so much."
Margaret sat opposite her.
"You remind me of someone."
The young woman looked up.
"Who?"
Margaret smiled sadly.
"My son."
The young woman lowered her eyes.
"Everyone says that."
Margaret studied her face.
"What was his name?"
The woman hesitated.
Then she whispered:
"Daniel."
Margaret's hands stopped moving.
She stared at the young woman.
"How do you know my son's name?"
The woman looked at her.
"Because I'm looking for him."
Margaret slowly put down her cup.
"What?"
The young woman reached into her handbag and removed a photograph.
It showed a little girl sitting on a man's shoulders at a park.
The man was Daniel.
He looked younger, perhaps twenty-two.
Margaret immediately recognized him.
It was a photograph she had never seen before.
The young woman began crying.
"My name is Emily Parker."
Margaret looked at her.
"Emily..."
The young woman nodded.
"I believe Daniel was my father."
Margaret's world seemed to stop.
She took the photograph with trembling hands.
For several seconds, she could only look at her son's smiling face.
Then she looked at Emily.
And suddenly, she noticed something.
The young woman's eyes.
The shape of her smile.
The way she tilted her head when she was nervous.
They were exactly like Daniel's.
Margaret covered her mouth.
"Oh, my goodness."
Emily began crying harder.
"I know this is difficult. I don't expect you to believe me immediately. I just wanted to meet someone who knew him."
Margaret stood.
She approached Emily slowly.
Then she gently touched her cheek.
"You're his daughter."
Emily nodded.
Margaret pulled her into an embrace.
For the first time in three years, the Whitmore family had gained something it thought it had lost forever.
A piece of Daniel was still alive.
But neither woman noticed the car parked across the street.
Inside it sat an elderly man.
His silver hair was neatly combed, and his expensive black coat was buttoned to the collar.
He watched Margaret through the windshield.
Then he picked up his phone.
"She's there," he said.
A voice answered.
"Who?"
"The girl."
There was a pause.
Then the voice asked:
"Does Margaret know?"
"Yes."
The man looked toward the house.
"Then we have a problem."
He ended the call and opened the glove compartment.
Inside was a photograph of William Whitmore.
Beside it was an old newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
LOCAL BUSINESSMAN DIES IN MYSTERIOUS HOUSE FIRE.
The elderly man stared at the photograph.
Then he whispered:
"You should have stayed dead, brother."
When Olivia arrived home, she found Margaret sitting beside Emily.
The two women were holding hands.
For a moment, Olivia stood in the doorway, unable to speak.
Margaret looked up.
"Olivia."
She approached slowly.
"Is it true?"
Margaret nodded.
Emily stood.
"Hello."
Olivia looked at her.
There was something unmistakably familiar about her face.
"You're Daniel's daughter?"
Emily nodded.
"I think so."
Olivia began crying.
She approached the young woman and gently held her hands.
"Then you should have been here years ago."
Emily's expression crumpled.
"I wish I had known."
Olivia pulled her into an embrace.
Neither woman spoke for a long time.
Margaret watched them with tears in her eyes.
She had lost a son.
But somehow, on Christmas Day, she had found a granddaughter.
And Olivia had discovered that the family she thought had ended with Daniel's death was still growing.
Then Emily pulled away.
"There is something else."
Olivia looked at her.
"What is it?"
Emily reached into her bag and removed a small silver locket.
"I found this among the documents my adoptive parents gave me."
She opened it.
Inside was a tiny photograph of Daniel.
On the other side was a folded piece of paper.
Margaret carefully removed it.
The handwriting was William's.
Her husband's handwriting.
She read the words aloud.
If this child ever returns to the Whitmore family, make sure she knows that she was loved before she was born.
Margaret began sobbing.
Olivia looked at Emily.
"Your grandfather knew about you?"
Emily shook her head.
"I don't understand."
Margaret turned the paper over.
There was another sentence.
The truth about her birth is hidden with the original family records. Edward must never find them.
Olivia felt her stomach tighten.
"Edward knows about Emily?"
Emily nodded slowly.
"That's why I came here."
Everyone turned toward her.
Emily continued.
"Three days ago, someone contacted me. They told me that if I wanted to know the truth about my biological family, I had to come to this house."
"Who contacted you?" Olivia asked.
Emily looked toward the window.
"An old man."
Margaret's face became pale.
"What did he look like?"
"Silver hair. Expensive coat. He said his name was Edward."
Olivia stood.
"Did you meet him?"
Emily nodded.
"He gave me this."
She removed another envelope.
Inside was a document bearing the name of a private medical laboratory.
Olivia looked at it.
Then her expression changed.
The document contained the results of a DNA comparison.
But it was not a test between Daniel and Emily.
It was a test between Emily and Edward Whitmore.
The results showed a close biological relationship.
Emily looked at Olivia.
"He told me something before I came here."
"What?"
She swallowed.