Free Someone Else's Life by Katie Dale Page B

scans the birth records.
    A page of details pings up before me.
    “Bingo,” I whisper, clicking the mouse.
    Holly Marie Woods , it reads.
    Mother’s Maiden Name: Sinclare .
    Registration District: Maybridge .
    Date of Birth …
    The fifth of January, the year I was born.
    I stare at the record, hardly able to believe it. There she is in black and white. Holly Woods —the baby’s name, not the mother’s. Sarah must’ve misunderstood when I asked her—or I did. But here she is. The other baby. Holly Woods .
    “This is morbid,” Andy mutters beside me. “This is so morbid, Rose. This girl died—Trudie’s baby died …”
    I look at the screen, goose bumps prickling my arms. Mum’s baby . If she’d lived, she’d have had my mum—she’d have my life. But she died. I blink hard, imagining her tiny body, a tiny coffin. Sarah swapped us, and she died—and Mum never even knew. She died … and I lived in her place.
    I stare at the record, guilt wrapping heavily around my shoulders.
    The day I was born. My town. I could be looking at my own birth record, it’s so similar.
    Suddenly, an icy shiver trickles down my spine.
    This is my birth record .
    I stare at the page again, my eyes wide, the facts screaming out at me, clear as day. This isn’t some other girl, some stranger, even Trudie’s daughter …
    These are my details: my name, my mother .
    I scroll down quickly, scanning, searching.
    Mother’s Maiden Name: Sinclare .
    “That’s weird,” Andy says, reading over my shoulder. “Why would you give your child a different surname? Why Woods, not Sinclare?”
    I shrug. “Maybe it was my father’s name?”
    “I thought she was alone?”
    “She could still have named me after him.”
    “Or maybe she wanted to distance herself …,” Andy suggests carefully.
    “From my real dad?” I frown.
    “Yes …” Andy hesitates. “Or … from you.”
    I stare at him.
    “Rosie …” He sighs. “All I’m saying is … she was going to put you up for adoption. Perhaps it was just easier to call you something else. Maybe she wanted to be harder to find.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” I say, my cheeks hot. “There could be a million reasons why she called me that—maybe she’s a movie buff? … Maybe she just liked the name! The point is, we don’t know , Andy. We can’t ever know, unless we find her.”
    “How?” Andy asks. “We don’t even know her first name—it’s impossible!”
    I stare miserably at the screen. All we’ve got is a surname.
    And a town …
    Quickly, I click on a new search. I type Sinclare into the database, and, instantly, a short list appears in front of me. A smile spreads over my face as I scan the screen. There’re only a few entries for thirty-five years ago … and only one in Maybridge!
    “Bingo!”
    Katharine Sinclare .
    My mother!
    My heart pounding crazily, I grab the phone book again and flick through it clumsily.
    I gasp. There’s only one Sinclare …
    In Maybridge.
    I stare at the page. I’ve found her. I’ve really found her …
    Andy looks at me, his eyes serious.
    “Now what?”

    Now what?
    I stare at myself in the mirror.
    I pull off my baggy T-shirt and turn sideways, running my hand over my belly.
    You can’t even tell, not really. I look normal—a couple of pounds heavier, maybe, but no one would know to look at me. They’d never guess …
    I bite my lip.
    I can’t have a baby —how can I? It would ruin everything! I’ve got a life, a dream. A dream that doesn’t include becoming a single teenage mother …
    I watch as a hot tear slides down my cheek.
    I can’t do this. Not on my own. I’m too young—there are a thousand reasons …
    I just can’t.
    I take a deep breath.
    It’s time to make a decision, choose my future.
    I pull my top back on, shivering suddenly.
    And no one would ever know.

Chapter Seven
    The first lampposts are flickering on as we pull up a few doors down from the pebble-dashed semidetached house. I