Chapter 6: The Baby in the Attic
I drove home faster than I should have.
Patricia had refused to explain what she meant before I left. She simply told me to bring the photograph back and not let Richard know what we had found.
Now I was beginning to understand why.
When I entered the house, Jordan was standing at the foot of the stairs.
He held an old wooden box.
Denise sat on the sofa with both hands pressed against her forehead.
Aaliyah was beside her.
“What happened?”” I asked.
Jordan lifted the box.
“I found this behind the old Christmas decorations.””
He opened it.
Inside were several photographs, hospital bracelets, and a small blue blanket.
I recognized the blanket immediately.
It was the same color as the ribbon in Camille's photograph.
Jordan removed a picture.
A young Richard stood outside a hospital, holding a newborn baby.
Beside him was my father.
Both men were smiling.
On the back, someone had written:
Our little secret. November 1996.
I looked at Jordan.
“November 1996?””
He nodded.
“That's the year I was born.””
I picked up another photograph.
This one showed Richard holding a baby in a hospital room.
Denise stood beside him.
My father was in the background.
And there, partially visible near the doorway, was a woman I recognized.
Evelyn.
Aaliyah took the photograph from me.
“My mother.””
She stared at the image.
Then she turned it over.
Her face went pale.
Written on the back were the words:
The boy belongs with Richard. The girl belongs with Evelyn.
Jordan looked up.
“The boy?””
Denise began crying.
I stared at her.
“Tell us.””
She shook her head.
“Please, Michael.””
“Tell us what happened to the first baby.””
She looked at Aaliyah.
Then at Jordan.
Finally, she spoke.
“Evelyn gave birth to twins.””
The room went silent.
Aaliyah slowly sat down.
“Twins?””
Denise nodded.
“A boy and a girl.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Then why did everyone tell us there was only one child?””
“Because your father wanted to separate them.””
“Why?””
Denise wiped her cheeks.
“He believed Evelyn couldn't raise two children. He also believed Richard would make a better father for the boy.””
Jordan looked at the photograph.
“Richard raised my biological sibling?””
Denise nodded.
“Not exactly.””
“What does that mean?””
She swallowed.
“Richard took the boy. But he didn't raise him.””
I stared at the old photograph.
“Who did?””
Denise looked toward the staircase.
“Your father.””
I shook my head.
“Dad was already in his sixties.””
“He wanted a child in the family. He said it would be easier to keep the boy close if he raised him himself.””
Aaliyah stood.
“Where is he now?””
Denise shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Jordan turned toward her.
“You expect us to believe that?””
“I haven't seen him in years.””
“Then why keep these photographs?””
Denise pointed to the wooden box.
“Because your grandfather gave it to me before he died. He told me to keep it somewhere safe.””
I took out the hospital bracelets.
One read:
Baby Boy Brooks.
The other:
Baby Girl Brooks.
The date matched Jordan's birth.
I looked at him.
“You and Aaliyah were twins.””
Jordan stared at the bracelet.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
Then he looked at Aaliyah.
“So we're not just connected through our parents.””
Aaliyah's eyes filled.
“We're brother and sister.””
Denise nodded.
Jordan stepped backward.
“Oh, my God.””
I watched him struggle to process everything.
Six months of dating.
Six months of falling in love.
Six months of believing they had found something special.
And now they were discovering that their relationship had been built on a family secret.
Aaliyah began crying.
“I didn't know.””
Jordan approached her.
“Neither did I.””
He took her hands.
“You didn't do anything wrong.””
Then he looked at Denise.
“But you did.””
Denise bowed her head.
“I know.””
“No, Mom. You don't. You let me bring my own sister into this house as my girlfriend.””
Denise covered her face.
I wanted to comfort my son.
But I couldn't ignore the larger question.
If Jordan and Aaliyah were twins, where had the boy in the first letter come from?
There were too many children.
Too many stories.
Too many names.
I opened the wooden box again.
At the bottom was a folded newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
*LOCAL BUSINESSMAN'S INFANT SON REPORTED MISSING AFTER HOSPITAL DISPUTE.*
The article was dated three days after Jordan's birth.
I read it twice.
The missing infant's name was Samuel Brooks.
Aaliyah looked at me.
“Who is Samuel?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
Denise suddenly stood.
“Put that away.””
I turned.
“Why?””
“Because that child has nothing to do with us.””
Aaliyah stepped forward.
“Samuel Brooks was my mother's son?””
Denise didn't answer.
I looked at the photograph again.
There were three babies mentioned in the documents.
Jordan.
Aaliyah.
And Samuel.
But only two hospital bracelets.
I turned the newspaper clipping over.
Someone had written a telephone number in blue ink.
Underneath it was a name.
Patricia Wells.
I immediately called her.
She answered after several rings.
“Michael?””
“There's a newspaper article about a missing baby named Samuel Brooks. Do you know anything about him?””
Patricia went silent.
Then she asked, “Where did you find that?””
“In an old box.””
“Listen carefully. You need to get out of that house.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Richard knows you're investigating.””
I looked toward the front window.
A black SUV had just pulled into the driveway.
Richard stepped out.
“He's here,” I whispered.
Patricia's voice became urgent.
“Michael, don't let him inside.””
Too late.
The doorbell rang.
Jordan moved toward it.
“Don't,” I said.
But Richard was already knocking.
“Michael! Open the door!””
Denise began shaking.
Aaliyah clutched the newspaper clipping.
I looked through the glass.
Richard was holding a thick manila envelope.
He raised it toward the window.
Then he mouthed three words.
I found Samuel.
I opened the door but kept my body between him and the others.
“What do you want?””
Richard looked past me.
“Where's Denise?””
“Not your concern.””
He sighed.
“Michael, I know what you found.””
“Then you know we're done keeping secrets.””
Richard handed me the envelope.
Inside was a recent photograph of a young man in his early thirties.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A familiar scar above his left eyebrow.
On the back was a handwritten name.
*Samuel Carter.*
Aaliyah stared at it.
“Carter?””
Richard nodded.
“He changed his name years ago.””
I looked at the photograph again.
Something about the young man's face was familiar.
Then I noticed the small silver ring on his right hand.
It was the same family signet ring my father had worn for decades.
I looked at Richard.
“Who is this man?””
Richard's expression hardened.
“Your father's first grandson.””
Jordan stepped forward.
“Where is he?””
Richard looked at him.
“He's closer than you think.””
I felt a chill crawl up my spine.
“What are you talking about?””
Richard reached into his coat and removed another photograph.
This one showed Samuel standing outside a building.
A building I recognized.
Our family company headquarters.
Richard pointed at the man beside Samuel.
“That's his employer.””
I looked at the face beside him.
Then I stopped breathing.
It was Jordan.
My son had apparently been working with his own twin brother for months without either of them knowing.
Richard lowered his voice.
“And there's one more thing, Michael.””
“What?””
“Samuel didn't come looking for his family because he wanted answers.””
He glanced at Denise.
“He came because he believes someone in this house stole his inheritance.””
Denise stood abruptly.
“That's not true!””
Richard turned toward her.
“Then tell them why you transferred the money.””
My heart began pounding.
“What money?””
Richard pulled out a bank statement.
The account belonged to my late father.
The final transfer had been made six months earlier.
The amount was $8.4 million.
And the recipient's name was Denise Carter.
I looked at my wife.
She began crying.
Then she whispered:
“I didn't steal it, Michael.””
May you like
She paused, looking directly at Aaliyah.
“I was paying Samuel to stay away from you.””
