One message.
I opened it.
There were only six words.
YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE SAID HIS NAME.
My blood turned cold.
Then another message appeared.
THEY KNOW WHERE YOUR BABY IS.
PART 4
The second message remained glowing on my phone.
THEY KNOW WHERE YOUR BABY IS.
I couldn’t move.
My son was crying against my chest.
The nurse was trying to calm him, but my eyes were fixed on those words.
Someone knew.
Someone was watching.
Someone knew I had said Brad’s name.
And somehow, they knew my baby was here.
“Detective,” I whispered.
Harris immediately stepped toward me.
“What happened?”
I handed her the phone.
She read the message.
Her expression changed.
“Don’t respond.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
She pulled out her own phone.
“I’m going to have the communications unit trace this number.”
Ricardo was still standing near the foot of my bed.
He looked as if he had aged ten years in the last five minutes.
“Clara,” he said quietly.
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Don’t tell anyone you’re here.”
I stared at him.
“I’m in a hospital.”
“I know.”
“How am I supposed to hide that?”
“Don’t leave the room.”
Detective Harris looked at him.
“Doctor, I need you to explain exactly what you meant about Brad not being the only baby born in your family that year.”
Ricardo didn’t answer.
He looked at me instead.
“I need to show her something first.”
“Show me what?”
“Proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Brad wasn’t supposed to exist.”
My heart skipped.
“What?”
Ricardo walked toward the door.
“Come with me.”
Detective Harris immediately blocked him.
“Absolutely not.”
“He needs to see this,” Ricardo said.
“She just gave birth.”
“I know.”
“Then she stays here.”
Ricardo looked at me.
“Clara, there’s something in the hospital archives.”
My body felt weak.
“What kind of something?”
“Your medical record.”
“My medical record?”
He nodded.
“Something about your pregnancy that you were never told.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He lowered his voice.
“Someone accessed your prenatal records seven months ago.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I found the access log.”
Detective Harris stepped closer.
“When?”
“Two days after Brad disappeared.”
She immediately pulled out her notebook.
“Name.”
Ricardo shook his head.
“No name.”
“Then what?”
“A physician identification number.”
“Whose?”
Ricardo looked at her.
“That is what I haven’t been able to determine.”
My son suddenly stopped crying.
The room became strangely quiet.
I looked down.
He was staring upward.
His dark eyes were open.
For the first time.
I smiled despite everything.
“Look at him.”
Ricardo approached slowly.
He stared at his grandson.
His expression softened.
“Hello, little one.”
My baby reached out his tiny hand.
Ricardo extended one finger.
The baby wrapped his fingers around it.
The doctor’s eyes filled with tears again.
“Brad did that.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“When he was a baby.”
He smiled sadly.
“He used to grab my finger exactly like this.”
I swallowed.
“Tell me about him.”
Ricardo looked at me.
“What?”
“Tell me about Brad when he was little.”
He sat beside me.
For a moment, the fear disappeared.
He became a father again.
“Brad was born during a snowstorm.”
He smiled faintly.
“The roads were nearly impossible to drive on. Your grandmother—his grandmother—was in labor for nineteen hours.”
He laughed quietly.
“I was terrified. I was a doctor, but when it was my own wife, I knew nothing.”
I smiled faintly.
“What was he like?”
“Loud.”
I laughed.
“Loud?”
“Very loud.”
Ricardo looked at the baby.
“He cried like the entire world had offended him.”
I laughed again.
“He sounds like my son.”
“He was stubborn too.”
“Brad?”
“Very.”
Ricardo’s smile disappeared.
“He always wanted to protect people.”
I looked at him.
“Even when he couldn’t.”
Ricardo nodded.
“That was his weakness.”
“His weakness?”
“He believed he could carry everyone else’s pain.”
I looked away.
“That doesn’t explain why he left me.”
“No.”
Ricardo sighed.
“But it may explain why he believed leaving you was protecting you.”
Detective Harris interrupted.
“Doctor.”
Ricardo turned.
“I need you to come with me.”
“Where?”
“The security office.”
“Why?”
“The cameras.”
“What cameras?”
“The hospital cameras.”
Harris’s expression tightened.
“We just lost power.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Ricardo looked at her.
“The emergency generator came on.”
“So?”
“The security system rebooted.”
He paused.
“But one camera didn’t.”
Detective Harris understood immediately.
“Which one?”
Ricardo looked at me.
“Outside this maternity wing.”
My heart dropped.
“Someone disabled it?”
“Possibly.”
“Can they see this room?”
“No.”
Ricardo looked at the hallway.
“But they can see who enters and leaves.”
Detective Harris walked toward the door.
“Stay here.”
She looked at me.
“Do not let anyone in unless I personally authorize them.”
“What about the nurses?”
“I’ll arrange that.”
She turned to Ricardo.
“You’re coming with me.”
Ricardo hesitated.
Then he looked at my son.
“I’ll be back.”
I nodded.
The door closed.
For the first time, I was alone with my baby.
I pulled him closer.
“It’s just you and me,” I whispered.
His tiny fingers moved against my gown.
I kissed his forehead.
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
A tear rolled down my cheek.
“But I promise you something.”
I looked toward the closed door.
“I will find your father.”
Then I heard footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming down the hallway.
I looked toward the door.
The footsteps stopped.
Someone knocked.
Three times.
I froze.
A woman’s voice came from outside.
“Clara?”
I recognized it.
One of the nurses.
“It’s Nurse Angela.”
I relaxed slightly.
“Come in.”
The door opened.
Angela stepped inside carrying a small tray.
She smiled.
“Your baby needs his first examination.”
I immediately looked at my son.
“Dr. Sullivan said no one should come in.”
Angela frowned.
“Dr. Sullivan?”
“Yes.”
She looked confused.
“Which Dr. Sullivan?”
I stared at her.
“Ricardo.”
Her expression changed.
“Clara…”
“What?”
“Dr. Sullivan isn’t on the maternity floor.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“He was called to the emergency department twenty minutes ago.”
I looked at the doorway.
The hallway was empty.
Angela slowly backed away.
“Who were you talking to?”
I couldn’t answer.
My eyes moved toward the chair.
Ricardo’s coat was still there.
He had left it behind.
The white lab coat.
The one he had been wearing.
I looked at Angela.
“That’s his coat.”
She stared at it.
“No.”
“What?”
Angela shook her head.
“That isn’t Dr. Sullivan’s coat.”
My heart pounded.
“What do you mean?”
She stepped closer.
“Dr. Sullivan never wears this style.”
I stared at the coat.
There was something sewn inside the pocket.
A small rectangular patch.
I pulled it out.
It had a name.
DR. MATTHEW REED
I froze.
Angela gasped.
“That’s not Dr. Sullivan.”
I looked at the door.
The man who had stood beside me.
The man who had told me about Brad.
The man who had touched my baby’s hand.
Who was he?
I immediately reached for my phone.
No signal.
Nothing.
I looked at my son.
He was asleep.
Then I heard something.
A soft click.
From the bathroom.
I slowly turned my head.
The bathroom door was slightly open.
I hadn’t opened it.
My heart began pounding.
I reached for the call button.
Then I heard a man’s voice.
“Clara.”
I froze.
The voice came from inside the bathroom.
“Don’t scream.”
I knew that voice.
My heart stopped.
“Brad?”
Silence.
Then:
“Please.”
I got out of bed.
My legs nearly collapsed.
Angela grabbed my arm.
“Don’t.”
I stared at the bathroom.
“Brad?”
The door opened slowly.
A man stepped out.
He was thinner.
His beard was longer.
His face was bruised.
There was a scar above his eyebrow.
But I knew those eyes.
Those eyes had looked at me across our kitchen table.
Those eyes had watched me sleep.
Those eyes had cried when we exchanged wedding vows.
My knees nearly gave out.
“Brad…”
He looked at me.
His eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“You’re alive.”
He nodded.
I stared at him.
“You’re alive.”
“Yes.”
“You left me.”
His face collapsed.
“I didn’t leave you.”
“You disappeared.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you didn’t want me.”
“I know.”
“You let me spend nine months alone.”
“I know.”
I hit him.
Once.
Twice.
He didn’t move.
I hit his chest again.
“You left me!”
“I know.”
“You left me pregnant!”
“I know.”
“You didn’t call!”
“I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t?”
He grabbed my wrist gently.
“Clara, if I had called you, they would have found you.”
I pulled my hand away.
“Who?”
He looked at my baby.
His face changed.
Fear.
Pure fear.
“They’re already here.”
Angela gasped.
“Who?”
Brad looked at her.
“Who are you?”
She stepped backward.
“I—I’m a nurse.”
Brad stared at her.
Then his eyes widened.
“No.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Clara, get away from her.”
Angela’s expression changed.
She reached inside her uniform.
Brad lunged forward.
“RUN!”
I grabbed my baby.
Angela pulled out a syringe.
Brad knocked it from her hand.
The syringe hit the floor.
Detective Harris burst through the door with two officers.
“Don’t move!”
Angela froze.
Harris pointed her weapon toward her.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Angela raised her hands.
“I didn’t do anything.”
Brad stood between her and me.
Harris stared at him.
“Brad Sullivan?”
Brad nodded.
Harris’s eyes widened.
“Oh my God.”
Then she looked at me.
“You knew?”
“I just found him.”
Harris immediately grabbed her radio.
“Subject located. Brad Sullivan is alive.”
Brad shook his head.
“No.”
Harris looked at him.
“What?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because if they hear you say my name, they’ll know where I am.”
The detective stared at him.
“Who are they?”
Brad looked at me.
Then at my son.
And whispered:
“The people who killed my brother.”
I felt the world tilt.
“Your brother?”
Brad nodded.
“I told you I was the only son.”
He swallowed.
“That was the lie my father was forced to tell.”
Ricardo’s words suddenly echoed in my mind.
Brad was not the only baby born in our family that year.
I looked at Brad.
“Who was your brother?”
Brad’s face went pale.
“My twin.”
Silence.
My baby stirred in my arms.
Brad looked at the crescent-shaped mark behind his ear.
Then he whispered the words that made every piece of the puzzle fall into place.
