Chapter 8: The Second Heartbeat
“Ask your husband who the father of Camille’s baby really is.””
I read the message three times.
The photograph remained open on my screen.
Camille stood outside a hospital room, one hand resting on her stomach, a pregnancy test in the other.
Three weeks old.
Recent.
Real.
My eyes lifted to Adrian.
He looked like a man who had just been cornered by a fire with nowhere left to run.
“Did you know?””
He said nothing.
“Adrian.””
“I knew she was pregnant.””
The words barely left his mouth.
My chest tightened.
“You knew.””
“Yes.””
“And you never told me.””
“I was going to.””
“When?””
He looked at the floor.
“I didn't know how.””
I laughed once.
“You didn't know how to tell your pregnant wife that your mistress was pregnant too?””
The police officer shifted uncomfortably near the door.
Dr. Cole was still on my call history, but his number was no longer reachable.
The clinic administrator had gone pale.
Everything had become too impossible to process.
Two pregnancies.
My altered records.
A missing day.
A forged signature.
A doctor who was supposedly dead.
And Adrian standing in the center of all of it.
I took a step toward him.
“Who is the father?””
His eyes met mine.
“You.””
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
“What?””
Camille's baby.
The father was supposed to be Adrian.
Of course.
That was the only explanation that made sense.
Yet Adrian looked terrified.
“You're lying,” I whispered.
“I wish I were.””
I shook my head.
“No. You said my baby might not be yours.””
“I know.””
“And now Camille is pregnant with your child.””
“Yes.””
“So you left me for her.””
His voice cracked.
“That wasn't why.””
“Then why?””
He looked at me.
“Because I believed the pregnancy was connected to something else.””
“What something?””
He hesitated.
The officer stepped closer.
“Mr. Hart, now would be a good time to start telling the whole story.””
Adrian nodded slowly.
He looked older suddenly.
Not years older.
Just tired.
As if he'd been carrying a secret heavy enough to crush him.
“The day Olivia disappeared,” he began, “I wasn't looking for Camille.””
I folded my arms.
“Then who?””
“My father.””
I frowned.
“Your father died.””
“So did yours.””
The room went still.
Adrian looked at me.
“Our fathers didn't die the way we were told.””
My stomach dropped.
“What are you talking about?””
“My father had been hiding assets. Offshore accounts. Shell companies. Medical investments.””
“Medical investments?””
He nodded.
“One of them was connected to Westbrook.””
I stared.
“Your father owned part of the clinic?””
“Not directly.””
“Then how?””
“Through another company.””
The officer stepped forward.
“Do you have proof?””
“Yes.””
Adrian reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a small flash drive.
I stared at it.
“What is that?””
“Everything I found.””
“Why didn't you give it to the police?””
“Because I didn't trust anyone.””
The officer's expression hardened.
“That's not your decision.””
Adrian nodded.
“I know.””
He looked at me.
“I found out six months ago that Westbrook had been performing unauthorized embryo transfers.””
My hand moved to my stomach.
“On women who didn't consent?””
“On women whose identities were manipulated.””
“Why?””
“For money.””
My stomach turned.
The administrator's face went gray.
Adrian continued.
“Rich clients paid for genetically screened embryos. Some wanted specific donors. Some wanted certain genetic traits. Westbrook created a black-market network.””
The room was silent.
I struggled to understand.
“Where did my embryo come into this?””
Adrian looked at me.
“Your medical information was valuable.””
“Why?””
“Because you were already a registered patient.””
I shook my head.
“That doesn't answer anything.””
“You had embryos frozen years ago.””
“No.””
“Yes.””
“I never had embryos frozen.””
He looked at the administrator.
Ms. Shaw spoke softly.
“Our records show you underwent fertility preservation six years ago.””
I stared at her.
“I never did.””
Adrian stepped closer.
“Your mother did.””
My heart stopped.
“My mother?””
“She had the procedure performed under your name.””
I shook my head violently.
“No.””
“There were legal documents.””
“Then they're forged.””
“They may be.””
“Why would she do that?””
Adrian didn't answer.
I thought of my mother's voice.
I tried to stop them.
I made a mistake.
I trusted Adrian.
She had known.
Maybe she had known everything.
“Where is my mother now?””
“She left town this morning,” Adrian said.
I looked at him sharply.
“How do you know?””
He hesitated.
“I've been watching her.””
“You've been watching my mother?””
“She disappeared after the clinic records were accessed.””
I stepped back.
“You've been investigating my family without telling me.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I thought someone was trying to frame you.””
I stared at him.
“And you thought sleeping with Camille would help?””
His face twisted.
“I didn't know how far she was involved.””
“But you were involved with her.””
“Yes.””
“By choice.””
He lowered his head.
“Yes.””
The admission hurt.
Even now.
Maybe especially now.
I looked down at the photograph again.
Camille.
Pregnant.
I zoomed in.
Something caught my eye.
Behind her was a hospital sign.
I recognized it.
“That's Mercy General.””
Adrian looked at the image.
“Yes.””
“How long has she been there?””
“She checked in after Dr. Cole disappeared.””
I looked up.
“Where is she now?””
“We don't know.””
I stared at the photograph.
Then I remembered the nurse.
The records.
The transfer.
The drug.
The missing day.
A thought struck me.
“Adrian.””
He looked at me.
“What?””
“On January 16, when I was unconscious…”
“Yes?””
“Did Camille have treatment that day?””
His face changed.
“What?””
“Did she have an appointment?””
“I don't know.””
I turned to Ms. Shaw.
“Check.””
She pulled the file toward herself.
Her fingers moved quickly through the documents.
Then stopped.
“She did.””
My pulse quickened.
“What kind?””
Ms. Shaw looked at me.
“Embryo transfer.””
I closed my eyes.
“Whose embryo?””
She flipped another page.
“The record says donor embryo.””
“Which donor?””
“Anonymous.””
I looked at Adrian.
“That's why she was there.””
He shook his head.
“No.””
“What?””
“She told me the transfer failed.””
“But it didn't.””
“No.””
“Then why did you believe her?””
“Because I saw the failed report.””
I stared.
“Where?””
“At the clinic.””
“Was it real?””
He hesitated.
“I don't know anymore.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Nothing in this place is real.””
The officer took the flash drive from Adrian.
“We need to secure this.””
Adrian handed it over.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I looked down.
A message.
*You are asking the right questions now. But you're still missing the most important one.*
A second message arrived.
*Why were you pregnant before January 16?*
I froze.
Adrian saw the screen.
“What does that mean?””
I looked at him.
“I don't know.””
But suddenly, I remembered something.
Not a full memory.
A fragment.
A room.
Bright white lights.
A woman's voice.
My mother's voice.
And a cold hand resting on my stomach.
I closed my eyes.
The memory sharpened.
Don't tell Adrian.
I opened my eyes.
I could hear my own breathing.
“There was another appointment.””
Adrian stepped closer.
“What?””
“Before January 16.””
“Where?””
“Westbrook.””
He shook his head.
“There shouldn't have been.””
“I remember now.””
My voice trembled.
“I was there.””
“When?””
“January 8.””
Ms. Shaw immediately opened the records.
“There is an appointment.””
My stomach dropped.
“Why don't I remember it?””
She checked the notes.
Then looked at me.
“It was marked confidential.””
“By whom?””
She looked at the screen.
“Dr. Cole.””
I felt dizzy.
“What did he do?””
Ms. Shaw scanned the entry.
Then her expression changed.
“Oh my God.””
“What?””
“There was an embryo transfer.””
I stared at her.
“To me?””
She nodded.
“January 8.””
The room blurred around me.
My hand moved to my stomach.
“That means…”
Adrian whispered:
“You were already pregnant before January 16.””
I looked at him.
Everything suddenly shifted.
The positive pregnancy test.
The missing day.
The altered medical records.
The confusion about paternity.
Someone hadn't created my pregnancy on January 16.
They had tried to manipulate what happened afterward.
I looked at the photograph of myself in the clinic.
The woman in the picture wasn't there to receive an embryo.
She was there because someone was trying to erase what had already happened.
“What happened on January 8?”” I asked.
Nobody answered.
The officer looked toward Ms. Shaw.
She slowly turned the monitor around.
There was a note attached to the appointment.
Only one sentence.
*Pregnancy confirmed. Patient instructed to report immediately if she discovers who the biological father is.*
My heart stopped.
I looked at Adrian.
“You knew.””
“No.””
“You knew I was pregnant before I did.””
“I didn't.””
“Then who did?””
He looked at the note.
His face went white.
“I don't know.””
I backed away.
A memory flashed again.
My mother standing beside a hospital bed.
Camille crying.
Dr. Cole holding a blood sample.
And a man's voice saying:
“Her husband can never know.””
I grabbed the edge of the table.
“I remember.””
Everyone looked at me.
“What?”” Adrian asked.
I stared at him.
“I remember someone saying your name.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Olivia, think.””
I closed my eyes.
The voice came again.
Older.
Male.
Familiar.
“Her husband can never know whose child it is.””
I opened my eyes.
And suddenly I knew the voice.
It belonged to someone I had trusted for years.
Someone who had been at our wedding.
Someone who had held my newborn niece.
Someone who had visited our home dozens of times.
I looked at Adrian.
“It was your brother.””
His face went completely blank.
“My brother died five years ago.””
“I know.””
The officer stood.
“Mrs. Hart…”
I shook my head.
“No. I know that voice.””
Adrian stared at me.
“You're sure?””
“Yes.””
Then my phone rang.
This time, the caller ID wasn't unknown.
It was a name.
A name that should have been impossible.
*Ethan Hart.*
Adrian's dead brother.
The phone rang again.
And again.
I looked at Adrian.
He whispered:
“Don't answer that.””
I stared at the screen.
Then pressed accept.
A man's voice breathed through the line.
“Olivia…”
I couldn't move.
“Who is this?””
A pause.
Then the voice said:
“I'm the reason you forgot January 16.””
May you like
The call ended.
And from downstairs, the front door slowly opened.
