Part 6
Part 6 · 2 min read ·
The hospital would complete its incident report. The appropriate authorities would determine whether charges or other protective measures were warranted. Our attorneys would review the attempted transfer documents and any communications surrounding them.
And Bridget would have to be contacted.
Because there was a question neither Graham nor I could ignore.
Had she known what her mother planned to do?
Or had Margot been acting alone?
Bridget arrived at the hospital shortly after six that evening.
She came into the room alone.
Her eyes were swollen, and she looked as though she hadn’t slept in days.
“Imogen,” she whispered.
Graham stood immediately.
“Bridget, did you know what Mom was planning?”
She flinched.
“I knew she wanted to talk about adoption.”
My stomach tightened.
“What exactly did she tell you?”
Bridget looked at me.
“She said you had agreed to let me raise Owen.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said you were overwhelmed by the twins. She told me you had discussed it with Graham and that the paperwork was just a formality.”
Graham’s face went pale with anger.
“Did you believe her?”
Bridget began to cry.
“I wanted to believe her.”
She covered her mouth.
“I know how that sounds. I’ve been trying to have a child for seven years. Every treatment failed. Every time I thought it might work, something went wrong. Mom kept telling me that I deserved to be a mother.”
I held Owen closer.
“Bridget, wanting a child doesn’t give anyone the right to take one.”
“I know.”
Her voice broke.
“I know that now.”
She looked toward the bassinet where Willa was sleeping.
“I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you had agreed. Mom said you’d been talking about it for months.”
“We never had that conversation.”
“I know.”
She wiped her eyes.
“When she called me from the hospital parking lot, she said she was bringing Owen downstairs. I asked whether you were ready to let him go, and she told me you were being difficult.”
Graham clenched his jaw.
“So you were waiting outside?”
Bridget nodded.
“I thought she was going to bring him to the car after you signed the papers.”
I felt sick.
“Did you know she intended to take him without my consent?”
“No.” She shook her head desperately. “I swear to you, Imogen, I didn’t know she’d hit you or take him from the bassinet. I thought she had your permission.”
I believed that she might be telling the truth.
But belief was not the same as certainty.
“Bridget, I need you to understand that this was not a misunderstanding we can simply forget. Your mother used forged assumptions, pressure, and violence to try to separate me from my child.”
“I know.”
“If you knew she was bringing adoption papers, why didn’t you call me?”
She lowered her head.
“Because I was afraid you’d say no.”
The honesty of that answer hurt more than a denial would have.
I took a slow breath.
“Then you knew there was a possibility I hadn’t agreed.”
Bridget began to sob.
“Yes.”
Graham looked away.
She stepped closer to the bed but stopped before reaching for either baby.
“I am so sorry.”
I studied her face.
“I don’t know what will happen next. The authorities will have to determine what you knew and whether you were involved in any wrongdoing. We can’t pretend this didn’t happen.”