Chapter 8: The Boy Who Never Existed
Eleanor didn't speak for nearly a minute.
She sat with both hands wrapped around a glass of water, staring at the photograph of Thomas Bell.
Daniel was the first to break the silence.
"You said you had a son?""
Eleanor nodded slowly.
"His name was Alexander.""
"Where is he?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"He died when he was seven months old.""
I looked again at the little boy in the photograph.
"Then why does that bracelet belong to him?""
Eleanor shook her head.
"I don't understand.""
She took the photograph from my hands.
"Richard bought that bracelet after Alexander was born. It was a tiny silver star. We had his initials engraved inside.""
She turned the photograph toward the light.
"That boy is wearing it.""
Daniel leaned closer.
"Could it be another bracelet?""
"No. I remember every scratch on that little star.""
Eleanor stood abruptly.
"I need to call Richard's doctor.""
"Why?"" I asked.
"Because Richard told me something shortly before his stroke. Something I thought was confusion.""
She took her phone and walked into the hallway.
Daniel watched her leave.
Then he turned toward me.
"Emily, do you think Thomas could be your brother?""
"I don't know.""
"Margaret was pregnant when she disappeared. The dates might fit.""
I looked at the photograph again.
The little boy was smiling.
His hair was dark, and his cheeks were round.
Something about his face felt familiar.
Not because I remembered him.
Because he looked like someone I had seen in a mirror.
A few minutes later, Eleanor returned.
"Richard wants to see you.""
"Now?""
"He's awake. His doctor says he can receive visitors.""
I looked at Daniel.
He nodded.
"We'll go together.""
The rehabilitation center was a private facility outside the city.
Richard Whitmore occupied a quiet room overlooking a garden.
He was thinner than the man in the photographs, and his right hand trembled slightly.
But when Eleanor entered, his eyes brightened.
"Ellie.""
She bent down and kissed his forehead.
"Hello, darling.""
Then his eyes moved toward me.
He stopped breathing for a moment.
"Emily?""
I approached slowly.
"Hello, Mr. Whitmore.""
His face crumpled.
"You're here.""
He reached for my hand.
I let him hold it.
"You're real," he whispered.
"I knew you were real.""
Eleanor began crying.
"Richard, she found the bracelet.""
He looked at my wrist.
Then he closed his eyes.
"Victor.""
The name came out like a curse.
I pulled a chair closer.
"Mr. Whitmore, I need you to tell me what happened.""
He stared at the ceiling.
"Margaret.""
"She's alive?""
His eyes filled with tears.
"I don't know.""
"Did she take me to protect me?""
He nodded weakly.
"Victor wanted the money.""
"What money?""
"The trust.""
Eleanor leaned forward.
"Richard, what trust?""
He struggled to speak.
"The children.""
I frowned.
"What children?""
Richard looked directly at me.
"Alexander. Emily. Thomas.""
Eleanor gripped the edge of the bed.
"Richard, Alexander died.""
He shook his head.
"No.""
The room went silent.
"What do you mean?"" Eleanor whispered.
Richard tried to lift his hand.
"Hospital. Night shift. Wrong baby.""
Eleanor's face lost all color.
"Richard, stop.""
He looked at her desperately.
"Victor changed the records.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Daniel moved closer.
"Are you saying Alexander was switched at the hospital?""
Richard nodded.
"Margaret knew. She found out.""
Eleanor covered her mouth.
"No...""
Richard began crying.
"She came to me. Told me our son was alive. Victor said she was lying.""
I looked at the photograph again.
The little boy with the silver star bracelet.
Thomas.
Could he really be Alexander?
"Where did Thomas come from?"" I asked.
Richard closed his eyes.
"St. Agnes.""
"Is he Alexander?""
Richard struggled to answer.
Then he whispered:
"Find the birth records.""
Eleanor grabbed his hand.
"Richard, why didn't you tell me?""
He looked at her.
"Because I was afraid.""
"Afraid of what?""
His eyes moved toward the door.
"Victor.""
A nurse entered.
"Mr. Whitmore needs to rest now.""
I stood reluctantly.
But before we left, Richard caught my wrist.
"Emily.""
I bent closer.
He whispered something that made my stomach turn.
"Your brother is not the only one Victor kept.""
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?""
Richard's fingers tightened.
"Margaret had another baby.""
My heart raced.
"How many children are there?""
Richard's lips trembled.
"Three.""
The nurse gently asked us to leave.
Outside the room, Eleanor leaned against the wall.
She looked devastated.
"All these years," she whispered.
"I thought I had lost one child.""
I took her hand.
"Maybe you haven't lost all of them.""
She looked at me.
Then her phone rang.
She answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Victor.
"Eleanor, I heard you visited Richard.""
She stiffened.
"How do you know?""
"Because someone at the center informed me.""
"Stay away from him.""
Victor laughed.
"You're asking me to stay away from my own brother?""
"What do you want?""
"I want you to stop encouraging Emily to dig into the past.""
Eleanor looked at me.
"She's entitled to know the truth.""
Victor's voice became colder.
"Then perhaps she should know what happened to the last woman who tried to expose me.""
The call ended.
Eleanor stared at her phone.
I felt a chill.
"He's threatening Margaret.""
She nodded.
"Or someone else.""
Daniel checked his messages.
Then he looked up sharply.
"Emily.""
"What?""
He turned his screen toward us.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of a teenage boy sitting in a hospital bed.
His wrist was wrapped in a white bandage.
Beneath the photograph were six words.
*Your brother is alive. Find him tonight.*
I looked at the picture.
The boy had the same dark eyes as the child in Margaret's photograph.
But there was something else.
A small scar above his left eyebrow.
I had a matching scar.
I touched mine without thinking.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
*Room 214. St. Agnes. Come alone.*
