Chapter 13: The Boy Who Knew My Name
I played the recording again.
"Marcus, don't trust the boy.""
The voice was unmistakable.
Emily.
Not someone imitating her. Not a recording manipulated to sound familiar.
It was the voice I had listened to every morning for years. The voice that used to call me downstairs when breakfast was ready. The voice that had whispered goodnight beside Maya's crib.
But Emily was dead.
I looked at Detective Harris.
"Trace that number.""
"We're already trying.""
"That phone was disconnected.""
"I know.""
"Then how did someone call me from it?""
Harris didn't answer.
An officer approached with a tablet.
"Detective, we've got an update on the boy.""
He turned the screen toward us.
The photograph showed a little boy standing outside a white house. He wore a gray sweater and held an old photograph against his chest.
The same boy from the message.
"Where is he now?"" I asked.
"Inside the residence with Olivia's adoptive parents.""
"Take me there.""
Harris nodded.
"But you stay with me.""
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at a quiet residential street.
A woman opened the front door.
She looked frightened.
Behind her stood a man holding a little girl.
Olivia.
I recognized her immediately from the photographs.
She had Emily's eyes.
The little boy stood beside the sofa.
He looked at me.
Then he smiled.
"Daddy.""
I stopped walking.
Something about the way he said it made my chest ache.
I had never met him.
Yet he looked at me as though he had been waiting his entire life.
I crouched.
"What's your name, buddy?""
"Noah.""
"Who told you to come here?""
He pointed toward the front window.
"A man.""
"What man?""
"The man who said you were my daddy.""
I glanced at Detective Harris.
"Did he come with you?""
The boy shook his head.
"He left me outside.""
I looked at the woman.
"Has anyone contacted you?""
She nodded.
"About twenty minutes ago. A man called and said someone would be bringing a child to our door. He told us to keep the boy safe until his father arrived.""
I turned back to the child.
"Do you know where that man went?""
Noah nodded.
"He said he was going to get my sister.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Which sister?""
The boy pointed at Olivia.
"Her.""
Olivia looked confused.
The little girl stepped away from her adoptive father.
"Mommy said I didn't have a brother.""
Noah shook his head.
"She lied.""
The woman immediately pulled Olivia closer.
"Sweetheart, don't say that.""
Noah reached into his pocket.
He removed a small plastic bracelet.
I recognized the hospital identification style.
The name printed across it was faded.
But the date was clear.
November 8, 2019.
The day Maya was born.
I took the bracelet carefully.
"Where did you get this?""
"Mommy gave it to me.""
My throat tightened.
"Which mommy?""
He looked at me.
"The one who died.""
I stared at him.
"Did she tell you anything else?""
He nodded.
"She said you would know the song.""
"What song?""
Noah began humming.
A simple lullaby.
Three notes repeated, followed by a soft descending melody.
I knew it.
Emily used to sing it to Maya when she was a baby.
She had told me her mother sang the same song when she was little.
I finished the final notes without thinking.
Noah smiled.
"That's it.""
My eyes burned.
I reached out, but he stepped back.
"Mommy said I shouldn't let strangers touch me.""
I lowered my hand.
"That's good advice.""
He studied me.
"Are you my daddy?""
I swallowed.
"I don't know everything yet, buddy. But I promise I'll find out.""
Detective Harris received a call.
He stepped into the hallway.
When he returned, his face was pale.
"Marcus, we have a problem.""
"What?""
"The phone call from Emily's old number was traced.""
"Where?""
"An automated forwarding system connected to a private medical facility.""
I frowned.
"What facility?""
"St. Mary's.""
I looked at the boy.
"Is that possible?""
Harris nodded.
"Someone has been maintaining a private communication line under Emily's old patient account.""
My chest tightened.
"Who has access?""
"Only a few people.""
He showed me a list.
Dr. Alan Whitmore.
Thomas Reed.
And one other name.
*Dr. Samuel Carter.*
I didn't recognize it.
Harris explained that Carter had been a physician at St. Mary's during Emily's final months.
He had also signed the paperwork confirming her death.
I looked at him.
"Are you saying Emily might not have died?""
Harris held my gaze.
"I'm saying we need to verify everything.""
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed.
A message from the unknown number.
*MIDNIGHT. RAILWAY STATION. BRING THE BOY.*
Another message followed.
*AND BRING VANESSA.*
I showed Harris.
He immediately contacted his team.
Then the little boy tugged at my sleeve.
"Daddy?""
I crouched.
"What is it?""
He pointed toward the window.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
A man sat behind the steering wheel.
I recognized him from the photograph.
Daniel Reed.
He raised one hand.
Then he slowly lowered the passenger window.
Even from a distance, I could see him smiling.
He held up a phone.
My phone rang.
I answered.
"Marcus," he said.
"Where's Maya?""
"Safe.""
"Bring her back.""
"First, I want my grandson.""
I looked at Noah.
"He's a child, not property.""
Daniel laughed.
"That's exactly what Emily used to say.""
"You're not taking him.""
Daniel's smile disappeared.
"Then perhaps you'd like to know why Emily is calling you.""
My blood ran cold.
"Where is she?""
He leaned closer to his window.
"Ask Dr. Carter.""
The sedan pulled away.
I immediately ran outside.
But it was already turning at the end of the street.
Harris ordered officers after it.
Then he turned toward me.
"Marcus, we need to talk about something.""
"What?""
He showed me a hospital record.
It was dated two years earlier.
The record listed Emily Ellison as a patient.
The admission date was six months after the funeral.
The discharge date was blank.
I stared at it.
"She's alive.""
Harris shook his head.
"We don't know that.""
But I was no longer listening.
Because beneath the hospital record was a handwritten note.
*PATIENT REQUESTS THAT HER HUSBAND NOT BE INFORMED UNTIL THE CHILDREN ARE SAFE.*
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And beside it was a signature.
Emily's.
