Chapter 7: The Third Child
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the photograph in my mother's hand.
My father stood beside a hospital bed, wearing the navy suit I remembered from my childhood. His hair was silver at the temples. His face was older, but unmistakable.
And in his arms was a newborn baby.
Not Daniel.
Not Lily.
Another child.
I reached for the photograph.
“Where did you get this?””
Eleanor pulled it against her chest.
“Marcus, you need to listen to me.””
“Where is my father?””
She glanced at the police officers.
“Not here.””
I stepped closer.
“You told me he died when I was twelve.””
“He did.””
I held up the photograph.
“Then explain this.””
Her lips tightened.
“Your father died in the hospital that night.””
“Which hospital?””
She didn't answer.
“Which hospital, Mother?””
Richard Hayes suddenly spoke from behind us.
“St. Augustine's Private Medical Centre.””
Eleanor turned sharply.
“Richard, shut your mouth.””
He ignored her.
“Your father was admitted under an assumed name. He had been living overseas for years. The hospital photograph was taken shortly before he died.””
I stared at him.
“Then why did you say he was alive?””
“Because someone has been using his identity.””
My mother's face went white.
Richard continued.
“The person arranging these transfers, the person threatening Nia, the person controlling the children's records... someone has been signing documents as Alexander Carter.””
My father's name.
David stepped forward.
“Do you have evidence?””
Richard nodded toward Eleanor's handbag.
“She has the original correspondence.””
My mother tightened her grip.
“That's private family property.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Private? You forged death certificates, stole my children, and threatened my wife. You lost the right to call anything private.””
Daniel stood near the staircase, clutching his airplane.
He looked frightened.
“Grandma?””
Eleanor immediately softened her expression.
“Come here, darling.””
Daniel hesitated.
Nia slowly extended her hand.
“It's okay, sweetheart.””
He looked at her.
Then he looked at Eleanor.
“Grandma said you were bad.””
Nia's eyes filled.
“I know what she told you.””
“Did you leave me?””
Nia shook her head.
“No, baby. Never.””
“Then why weren't you here?””
She struggled to speak.
“Because someone wouldn't let me come.””
Daniel looked down at his airplane.
“Grandma said you didn't want me.””
I felt my hands curl into fists.
Eleanor stepped forward.
“Daniel, don't listen to her.””
The police officer raised a hand.
“Mrs. Carter, please remain where you are.””
My mother ignored him.
“I have raised these children. I know what they need.””
Nia stood.
“You taught my son to hate me.””
“I gave him stability.””
“You told him I was dead!””
“You were supposed to stay away!””
The words escaped Eleanor before she could stop them.
The room went silent.
I looked at her.
“What?””
She closed her eyes.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that the truth had finally become impossible to contain.
David moved closer.
“Mrs. Carter, I strongly advise you not to say anything further without legal representation.””
But my mother was staring at Nia.
“You don't understand what you brought into this family.””
Nia stepped forward.
“I brought your grandchildren into this world.””
Eleanor's jaw tightened.
“And that's precisely the problem.””
The police officers separated them.
As Eleanor was escorted toward the front door, she turned to me.
“Marcus, find out what happened on October eighteenth. Find out who signed the original hospital register.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
She looked toward the photograph.
“Because your father wasn't the only person who died that night.””
Then she was gone.
Two hours later, Daniel and Lily were placed under temporary protective supervision while the authorities arranged appropriate care.
Nia refused to leave them.
She sat on the carpet in the sitting room, showing Lily how to fold a paper butterfly.
Daniel sat nearby, pretending not to watch.
Every few minutes, he looked up at Nia.
Then quickly looked away.
I understood.
A child couldn't simply erase four years of believing his mother was dead.
He needed time.
I sat beside him.
“That's a nice airplane.””
He nodded.
“Grandma bought it.””
“Do you like flying?””
“Sometimes.””
“Have you ever been on a real airplane?””
He shook his head.
“I want to.””
I smiled.
“Maybe one day.””
He studied my face.
“Do you have a house?””
“I do.””
“Does it have toys?””
“Not enough.””
He considered that.
“Grandma says rich people don't play with toys.””
I glanced toward Nia.
She was listening.
I smiled at him.
“Grandma was wrong about that.””
For the first time, Daniel smiled.
It was small.
But it was there.
Then Lily climbed into Nia's lap.
“Can you sing?””
Nia nodded.
“What song?””
“The moon song.””
I felt something catch in my throat.
It was the lullaby Nia used to sing when she was pregnant.
She began quietly.
Daniel stopped playing with his airplane.
He looked at her.
Then he whispered the next line.
Nia froze.
“You know that song?””
Daniel nodded.
“Grandma used to play it when I couldn't sleep.””
Nia pressed her lips together.
She had never stopped singing it.
And somehow, despite everything, a part of her had reached him.
At 8:15 p.m., David returned from speaking with the investigators.
He carried a thick folder.
“Marcus, we have a problem.””
I followed him into the study.
“What now?””
He opened the folder.
“Your father's death certificate is legitimate. But the medical records contain inconsistencies.””
“Such as?””
“His body was never released to the family. The cremation was authorized by a private executor.””
I stared at him.
“Who?””
David hesitated.
“Eleanor Carter.””
I sat down.
“My mother arranged my father's cremation?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“That's what we're trying to establish.””
He placed another document on the desk.
It was a hospital birth register.
Two names appeared under October eighteenth.
Daniel Carter.
Lily Carter.
But there was a third entry.
A baby girl.
The mother's name was listed as Nia Carter.
The father's name was blank.
The child's name was blank.
Beside the entry was a handwritten note.
Transferred under special guardianship order.
I stared.
“Three babies?””
David nodded.
“According to this register, yes.””
I read the document again.
“Where is the third child?””
“That's the question.””
I called Nia into the study.
When she saw the register, she gripped the back of a chair.
“No.””
I showed her the entry.
She shook her head repeatedly.
“I only remember two babies.””
“Could there have been complications?””
“I was unconscious. I don't remember giving birth.””
She looked at David.
“Are you saying I had triplets?””
David nodded slowly.
“The medical record suggests that possibility.””
Nia sank into the chair.
I placed a hand on her shoulder.
She looked at me with terrified eyes.
“Marcus, what did they do to our third baby?””
Before I could answer, David's phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
Then his expression changed.
“What hospital?””
A pause.
“Are you certain?””
He ended the call.
I stood.
“What?””
“The investigators found the original nurse who worked at St. Augustine's.””
“Where is she?””
“She's willing to speak.””
“Then let's go.””
David hesitated.
“She says she will only talk to you and Nia.””
I looked at my wife.
Nia wiped her tears.
“Let's go.””
As we prepared to leave, my phone received an email from an unknown sender.
There was no subject line.
Only an attachment.
A scanned hospital document.
At the bottom was a signature.
Alexander Carter.
May you like
And beneath it were five words.
*THE THIRD CHILD BELONGS TO ME.*
