Why wouldn't she tell me? Why would she keep this a secret? She was afraid. Afraid you wouldn't let her see Lily. Afraid you'd think she was trying to take your daughter away.
She wanted to build a relationship first, earn your trust before revealing the truth. The cookies. Daniel's voice was hollow. The visits. The questions about Lily's drawings.
She was getting to know her daughter. the daughter she'd spent 15 years trying to find. Daniel pressed his hands against his eyes. She said she loved Lily since she was born. Lily told me she didn't understand what Victoria meant. I didn't understand.
Victoria was supposed to tell you everything today. She'd planned it for weeks. She wrote and rewrote what she wanted to say a dozen times. Bradford's voice cracked slightly. She called me Friday night to update her will.
Said she had a feeling something she couldn't explain. She wanted everything in order before she saw you. What did she change? Bradford handed him a document. She named you permanent CEO of Hayes Enterprises.
She established a trust that gives Lily controlling interest in the company when she turns 25. And she left this a sealed envelope. Daniel's name on the front in Victoria's handwriting. She wrote it Friday morning after she left your office. Daniel took the envelope.
It felt impossibly heavy. There's something else, Bradford said. Something Victoria discovered during her search that you don't know what. Victoria gave her daughter a name before giving her up. She wrote it in the adoption file even though she knew the adoptive parents would choose their own name.
Bradford paused. She named her Lily. The room spun. Daniel grabbed the edge of the desk to stay upright. Your sister named her Lily, too.
Victoria always believed it was a sign proof that some connection remained, even across the years of separation. Bradford's eyes were wet. When she found out she cried for three hours straight, she said it meant her daughter had been loved, that the name she'd chosen had somehow found its way back. Daniel couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Victoria had named her daughter Lily.
Rebecca had named her daughter Lily. And somehow, impossibly, they had both loved the same child. Daniel didn't open the letter until midnight. Lily was asleep at Mrs. Patterson's. He couldn't face her yet, couldn't look into her eyes, knowing what he now knew.
He sat in his empty apartment in the dark, holding the envelope Victoria had sealed just hours before she died. His hands shook as he opened it. Dear Daniel, if you're reading this, then my worst fear came true. I found my daughter, but I didn't get to tell you myself. I was 18 when I got pregnant. scared, alone, abandoned by the boy I thought loved me.
My parents gave me a choice. Give up my baby or lose everything. I was young and stupid, and I made the wrong decision. I've regretted it every single day since. I named her Lily.