Danielle Cohn Birth Certificate Novels & Stories

"Until she wasn't." I dug deeper into the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. It felt heavy, official. CERTIFICATE OF LIVE BIRTH Name: Sierra Figueroa Date of Birth: October 17th, 2000 Place of Birth: St. Jude’s Private Wing Mother: Lilian Figueroa Father: [REDACTED] I ran my thumb over my name. Sierra Figueroa. It was right there in black and white, signed and sealed. The DNA might have been faked by the Wellingtons and the Galbraiths, but this... this was the truth they couldn't rewrite.

"Elena sent me a mountain of paperwork and I'm completely drowning in it." "This is important," Danika replied, as her voice vibrated with barely contained excitement. Something in her tone made me pause. "What is it?" I asked carefully. "Close your laptop," Danika instructed. I hesitated, staring at the open tabs, then shut it slowly. "Chelley," Danika began, I could hear the smile breaking through every word. "Dariel, or whatever his name actually is, is not Dorian's child. The DNA results came back with absolutely zero match."

Something that would tell me who my mother was, not just who she wasn't. The third box was legal documents. Birth certificates, marriage licenses, death certificates. The paper trail of a life that had been carefully hidden, meticulously preserved, for reasons I couldn't begin to understand. I found my mother's birth certificate first. Mary Catherine Delaney, born 1968 in a small town in upstate New York. Her parents were listed as Thomas Delaney and Catherine Delaney. No middle names, no additional information. Just the bare facts of a life that had begun and would end without anyone really knowing her.

Her back was bent. She was barely fifty, but her hair was mostly gray. In her arms, she carried a black urn. On the urn, a photograph. My grandmother’s ashes. She walked step by step to the front. She raised her head and looked at Daniel Harrington. That face. It was his face. Silence. No one spoke. But the cameras flashed. Then my mother held up a piece of paper. Her birth certificate. It clearly showed 1976, the year Daniel Harrington left the rural West.

"Her name was Margaret. She died five years ago. Cancer. But the children are still alive. Adults now. Living in London. They don't know about you either. Arthur kept both families completely separate." Dante's hand found Sienna's. Squeezed. "Do you have proof?" "Yes. Birth certificates. DNA tests my father ran years ago. Financial records showing Arthur's support. Everything." Victoria pushed the folder across. "I'm not here to upset you. Just to give you truth. What you do with it is your choice." Sienna opened the folder. Saw the documents. The proof. Undeniable. Two children. Daniel Arthur Hale. Born 1997. Sophie Margaret Hale. Born 2000.

"As much as he would like you to know." When Freda opened it, her fingers shook a little. Financial statements, surveillance images, and—her heart stopped—a birth certificate were all inside. Her gut churned as she perused the details. "This... this isn't logical." Williams bent across her back. "The father named isn't Jonathan Harrington, but it states that Eleanor Pierce gave birth to Daniel." Alex gave a nod. Daniel isn't your father's kid, which explains why. He is a phony. Freda gasped for air. Why would he go this far, then?

Helen hung up the phone with a sneer. Nate went into Leo’s office with the facts he had found after that. "Mr. Cox, I've learned what I need to know about that child. His birth certificate says that his father is unknown, but there is no record of how he is related to Miss Granger. He is also now listed in Miss Granger’a Citizenship Certificate, and he has a younger sister.” Leo frowned and looked over the material. "He's five four years old?" Nate nodded his head. In that situation, the time wouldn't match at all.

She said with a curt nod. “Danielle.” Meryl said. “Danielle, you look stunning.” Her mother gushed, and Danielle blushed and looked over her shoulder for her husband just as he appeared behind her. Danielle pulled him closer to her and smiled at him. “Guys, this is my husband, Javier Mendoza.” Meryl froze at the name and hoped that her ears were deceiving her, but when she looked up, all doubt evaporated as her eyes landed on the famous Javier Mendoza in all his glory. “Javier, this is my family; those are my parents, Meryl Anderson-Grayson and Paul Grayson.” She said, and they got up to greet him. Danielle introduced everyone and they all got up to greet Javier, except for Meryl. “And lastl

At the top, a note, in Daniel’s unmistakable script: “You always wanted the truth, Elena. Now I’m giving it to you. Do what you want with it. But know this— Everything I did was for a reason.” I swallowed, peeled the note away, and started reading. It was a birth certificate. Then hospital records. DNA results. The blood drained from my face. The name at the top of the certificate wasn’t mine. It was hers. Grace Kim. Daniel’s ex-fiancée. The woman he’d supposedly cut ties with before we met. The woman who had vanished from his past without explanation. Attached to the certificate was a photo—grainy, dated. A little boy. No more than four. He had Daniel’s eyes.

They took care of her as if she was not the reason that the real child died. "Tell me, what happened after you left? Where did you go? I was praying unceasingly for your safety." With her questions, it was good to assume that the Del Fierros didn't tell Tabitha that they already saw her again. "It's a long story, Auntie," she answered. "I'd love to hear your story." She smiled. "First of all, I want to introduce myself properly to you, Aunt Tabitha, Jio. My real name is Danielle. Danielle Williams.--" and she told them what happened three years ago after she left.