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“That’s probably enough PDA for now.”
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Nate says darkly, “but as the lady wishes.” He takes my hand in his and holds it in his lap. “Is this all right?”
“Yes,” I say, blushing, “it’s fine.”
“Good.”
An hour later, Antony comes back, looking grim. He leads us to a small room furnished only with a table and chairs. Nate and I sit on one side, and Antony sits on the other. He places a legal-sized manila envelope on the table in front of us.
“What is it?” Nate asks.
“It’s kinda weird, boss.” Antony takes a square piece of paper from the folder and places it on the table. “This is the original birth certificate from the hospital. As you can see, it’s issued from the Cascade Falls Regional Hospital, and the name is clearly Cherice Marie Bay, but the parental identifying information has been blacked out.”
“How is that even possible?” I ask, staring at the black marks across a certificate I’ve never seen before. It doesn’t even look like the one I found in Aunt Ginny’s documents. “I mean, someone has to have a copy with the actual names on it. How else is it even legal?”
“Legal is a matter of perspective,” Antony says, grinning again. “Regardless of legality, it’s what we have. Someone went to a lot of trouble to completely black out the names. The ink used completely saturated the paper below it, so I don’t even think we can scan it and try to see what names are underneath. I’ll try, but I’m not hopeful there.”
“Is that your birthday, as far as you know?” Nate asks.
“December fifteenth, yes.”
“Just ten days after your birthday, cousin.” Antony grins at Nate.
Nate glances at me with a slight smile, and I feel myself blush. Something about having our birthdays close together is rather nice.
“See the date on the bottom?” Antony says. “The part that says, ‘date on which given name added’? It’s three days after the birth date.”
“That matches my adoption date.”
“Yes, it does.”
“So, does that mean Aunt Ginny named me?”
“Could be.”
“Thoughts?” Nate asks Antony.
“Cross-check for women being admitted into the hospital on that date. If we can find someone with a relationship to Virginia Bay, we might get our answer.”
Nate looks at me, and I nod.
“Let’s get on that, then.”
“It could take some time,” Antony says. “A lot of the hospital records from that far back aren’t digitized. I’ll have to look by hand, get the list of names, and then search for relationships.”
“Did you find anything on the adoption records?” I ask.
“What I found,” Antony says, “is their absence. Can I see your copy again?”
I hand it over, and Antony looks at it closely.
“Well?” Nate asks after a couple of minutes.
“I think this is the original,” Antony says. “The county of record is wrong, though. If it’s accurate, the adoption was done on the west side, not east. If I can get access to those—which ain’t easy—I have the feeling I’m going to find no
thing. The question then is how did it end up in your aunt’s records and not at the county office? I see the names are blacked out in the same way as the birth certificate.”
“So the same person doctored up both of them.”
