Chapter 6 - THE THIRD CHILD
Nobody spoke.
The name on the certificate seemed impossible.
Lily Carter.
A third child.
A sister I had never known existed.
I stared at the birth date.
It was two years after my birth.
The mother's name was Eleanor Monroe.
The father's name was blank.
The hospital was St. Mary's.
The same hospital where Michael had supposedly been born.
I looked at Arthur.
“Explain.”
He didn't.
“Dad.”
He finally spoke.
“Lily was born after you.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because she disappeared.”
Michael stepped closer.
“Where?”
Arthur shook his head.
“We were told she died.”
I looked at the certificate.
“But this says she was alive.”
“Yes.”
“Who took her?”
“We don't know.”
I felt sick.
Three children.
Three secrets.
Three lives destroyed by the same family.
Then Jonathan found another file.
“This may explain it.”
He opened the folder.
Inside was a photograph of three babies.
My mother was holding one.
A nurse held another.
And a third crib stood empty.
Written beneath the photograph was:
TRIPLE PROTECTION PROTOCOL
I stared.
“Triplets?”
Arthur shook his head.
“No.”
Jonathan looked at the medical report.
“They were not triplets.”
He pointed to the dates.
“You and Michael were twins.”
“Then Lily?”
“Born two years later.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Why would my mother hide her?”
Arthur looked at me.
“Because she knew the family would use her.”
“For what?”
“The trust.”
I suddenly understood.
The trust didn't only protect one child.
It protected the entire bloodline.
My mother had created layers of protection.
One child publicly known.
One child hidden.
One child completely erased.
I looked at Michael.
“Where is Lily?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Jonathan flipped through the file.
“There is an address.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
My heart pounded.
“Is it current?”
“No.”
“Then find her.”
“We're trying.”
I looked at Arthur.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew enough.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Again.”
He looked hurt.
But I was done accepting that explanation.
“You kept me ignorant while everyone else manipulated my life.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That if Thomas discovered you knew about Michael, he would come after you.”
“And he did anyway.”
Arthur looked away.
I sat down.
My baby kicked.
I placed my hand over my stomach.
“I'm not letting them do this to my child.”
Bennett knelt beside me.
“They won't.”
I looked at him.
“Your mother already tried.”
“I know.”
“And you believed her.”
“I know.”
He lowered his head.
“I can't change that.”
“No.”
“But I can change what I do now.”
I didn't answer.
Then Michael suddenly grabbed the birth certificate.
“There's something wrong.”
“What?”
He pointed at the signature.
“This isn't Mom's handwriting.”
Arthur examined it.
“You're right.”
Jonathan scanned it.
“Forgery.”
“Who forged it?”
Michael looked at me.
“Thomas.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I've seen his handwriting.”
He pulled an old letter from his jacket.
The signature matched.
My stomach dropped.
“Then Lily may never have been registered under her real name.”
Jonathan nodded.
“That would make finding her almost impossible.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“My mother left clues.”
We searched the cellar.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a wooden box.
It had three initials carved into the lid.
S.
M.
L.
Sophia.
Michael.
Lily.
I opened it.
Inside were three small objects.
A silver bracelet.
A military medal.
And a tiny key.
Michael picked up the medal.
“This was mine.”
I picked up the bracelet.
It had my initials.
The key had no label.
Jonathan examined it.
“It may open another property.”
Arthur looked at the box.
“No.”
“What?”
“I know that key.”
“Where?”
“My old military storage facility.”
We left Napa immediately.
The facility was outside Sacramento.
It had been closed for years.
Arthur opened the gate.
Inside were rows of metal storage units.
He walked to the last one.
Unit 317.
The key fit.
The door rolled open.
Inside was a small bed.
Children's clothes.
Photographs.
Books.
A child's drawing.
Michael stopped breathing.
“That was my room.”
I looked around.
“Your room?”
“Mom kept me here.”
“Why?”
“To hide me.”
Then I saw a photograph.
My mother was standing beside a little girl.
The girl had my eyes.
My face.
My mother's smile.
I touched the photograph.
“Lily.”
On the back was an address.
Boston.
And a name.
Eleanor Reed.
I stared.
“Eleanor.”
Arthur's face changed.
“Thomas's mother.”
Michael stepped backward.
“She raised Lily?”
Jonathan immediately started making calls.
Within an hour, we had an address.
An elderly woman still lived there.
But when we arrived, the house was empty.
The neighbors said she had left three months earlier.
“Where?”
Nobody knew.
Then a neighbor handed us an envelope.
“She told me to give this to Sophia if she ever came.”
My hands trembled.
Inside was a photograph.
A young Lily.
And a note.
She knows who she is.
Below that:
But she doesn't know who you are.
I stared.
Then another sentence appeared.
She has been watching you for years.
My heart raced.
“Watching me?”
Jonathan found something on the back.
A phone number.
We called it.
A woman's voice answered.
“Hello?”
I froze.
“Are you Lily?”
Silence.
Then:
“Who is asking?”
I swallowed.
“My name is Sophia.”
The woman stopped breathing.
I could hear it.
Then she whispered:
“I know.”
My heart pounded.
“How?”
“Because I've been waiting for you.”
I looked at Arthur.
He had tears in his eyes.
“Where are you?”
The woman hesitated.
“Not where you think.”
“What does that mean?”
She whispered:
“I'm inside your family.”
The call ended.
Bennett stared at me.
“What happened?”
I couldn't speak.
Then the phone rang again.
A message appeared.
A photograph.
It showed Lily standing beside Victoria.
My blood went cold.
Bennett grabbed the phone.
“When was this taken?”
Jonathan checked the metadata.
“Three days ago.”
I stared.
“Victoria was arrested.”
“Yes.”
“So how did she meet Lily?”
Nobody answered.
Then another photograph arrived.
This one showed Lily standing beside Thomas.
And behind them was someone else.
Someone I recognized immediately.
My husband.
Bennett.
I looked at him.
His face went pale.
“Sophia…”
I stepped backward.
“Why are you in that photograph?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I swear.”
“You knew Lily?”
“No.”
“Then why is she standing beside you?”
He stared at the image.
Then slowly shook his head.
“I have never seen her.”
Jonathan zoomed in.
The photograph had been taken outside a hotel.
The date was six months earlier.
Bennett's expression changed.
“That was the hotel in Chicago.”
“What were you doing there?”
He swallowed.
“I was meeting a client.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Bennett.”
He looked at me.
“Thomas.”
The room went silent.
I felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath me.
“You met Thomas?”
“I didn't know who he was.”
“You met a man who supposedly died twenty years ago.”
“I thought he was someone else.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
I stared.
“What?”
Bennett's voice broke.
“I thought he was my father.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“Bennett.”
He shook his head.
“I swear I didn't know.”
Then another message arrived.
This time, there was no photograph.
Only six words.
Ask Bennett what he signed.
I looked at my husband.
“What did you sign?”
He closed his eyes.
“I don't remember.”
“Then we find out.”
Jonathan took out his laptop.
Within minutes, he found a document.
Bennett had signed a private agreement six months earlier.
The beneficiary was listed as:
Lily Carter.
My heart stopped.
And beneath her name was one final clause.
Upon Sophia Carter's death, control transfers to Lily.
I stared at Bennett.
He looked horrified.
“I never signed that.”
Jonathan looked closer.
“The signature is yours.”
Bennett whispered:
“They forged it.”
Arthur looked at the document.
“Then someone has been preparing for Sophia's death.”
I instinctively covered my stomach.
The baby kicked.
And at that exact moment, my phone received one final message.
A location.
A hospital.
The same hospital where I was receiving prenatal care.
May you like
The message contained only one sentence:
Your baby is not safe there.
