Chapter 3 - TWO GIRLS, ONE BIRTHDAY
At eight o’clock, I ordered DNA kits brought to the house.
At eight-oh-five, I threw them in the fireplace.
Vincent watched the boxes burn.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
“That’s honest.”
“I’m sure I’m not testing children because a kidnapper told me to.”
He nodded.
“What if the truth matters medically?”
“Then we test later. With doctors. With consent. Without a gun pointed at Lena.”
I watched the cardboard curl black.
“Tonight, whoever is doing this wants panic.”
“And midnight?”
“I’m going.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I’ll appear alone.”
“Better.”
Upstairs, Nova and Sky sat on the floor of Nova’s room.
Nova had changed into pajamas decorated with planets.
Sky wore a borrowed pair covered in pink unicorns she clearly hated.
“I look six,” she complained.
Nova grinned.
“You look magical.”
“I look ridiculous.”
“Same thing sometimes.”
I stood outside the doorway longer than necessary.
The room had been designed for accessibility.
Low shelves.
Wide paths.
A mechanical track near the bathroom.
Nova hated when people called it special.
“It’s just my room,” she always said.
Sky did not stare at any of it.
She asked what books Nova liked.
She asked whether her chair could go fast.
She asked if the elevator was fun.
Normal questions.
Not pity.
That alone made me understand why Nova had liked her at school.
Elise, Nova’s caregiver, stepped into the hallway.
“She’s calmer with Sky here.”
“I noticed.”
“She needs peers.”
“I know.”
“You can’t protect her from loneliness with security.”
I looked at her.
“Everyone became a philosopher today.”
“You pay me to tell you the truth.”
“I thought I paid you to help my daughter.”
“Same job.”
Fair.
Nova saw me.
“Daddy, are you going somewhere?”
Children noticed everything.
“Work.”
“At night?”
“Sometimes.”
“Bad work?”
I entered.
“What’s bad work?”
“The kind where Vincent wears the face.”
I glanced at Vincent.
“What face?”
Nova imitated him, narrowing her eyes dramatically.
Sky laughed.
Vincent looked offended.
“That’s inaccurate.”
“It’s perfect,” I said.
Nova became serious.
“Are you finding Sky’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“I want to help.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re eight.”
“I’m almost nine.”
“You turned eight today.”
“Exactly. I’m closer to nine than seven.”
Sky nodded.
“She has a point.”
I stared at both of them.
“Absolutely not.”
Nova crossed her arms.
“I hate when adults say no without reasons.”
That came from Claire.
I could hear her.
So I gave a reason.
“Because the people who took Lena may hurt anyone who gets close. My job is keeping you safe while I bring her home.”
Nova thought about it.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Sky did not.
“What if my mom did something bad?”
I looked at her.
“Why would you ask that?”
“She lies.”
“About what?”
“Where we lived before Seattle. Who my dad was. Why she cries on May seventeenth.”
That date again.
“She cries on your birthday?”
Sky nodded.
“Every year.”
“What does she say?”
“She says birthdays can be happy and sad at the same time.”
I sat in the chair across from her.
“Do you know your father?”
“No.”
“Name?”
“She never told me.”
“Did you ever ask?”
“All the time.”
“What does she say?”
“That he was dangerous without knowing it.”
Something inside me went still.
Vincent heard too.
Sky looked at me.
“Are you my dad?”
Nova’s eyes widened.
The room became unbearably quiet.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think you are?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not the same answer.”
She was right.
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
“Do you want to be?”
There it was.
A child asking a question no blood test could answer.
I chose my words carefully.
“If you need someone to protect you while your mom is missing, I will. No matter what a test says later.”
Sky looked down.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Smart child.
Too smart.
“I’ve known you for four hours,” I said gently. “Being someone’s father is more than wanting. It’s showing up over time.”
She nodded.
“My mom says promises are cheap when people make them fast.”
“I like your mom.”
Sky looked toward the window.
“I do too.”
Her voice broke.
Nova reached across and squeezed her hand.
That decided the rest of my night.
Lena Rowe was coming home.
At eleven-thirty, I left the estate through the south gate.
Vincent’s team followed at a distance.
Mercer Pediatric Mobility Foundation occupied a six-story glass building near the lake.
I had paid for half of it.
My name was on a bronze donor wall in the lobby.
That felt obscene now.
At 11:58, I entered alone.
No receptionist.
No guards.
Lights dim.
My footsteps echoed.
A message arrived.
BASEMENT.
The elevator required a card.
The key from Lena’s envelope had a magnetic strip I had not noticed.
It worked.
Basement level two.
The doors opened onto a medical archive.
Rows of locked cabinets.
Cold fluorescent light.
At the far end, Lena sat in a chair.
Untied.
Alone.
I walked toward her.
She looked exhausted.
“Grant.”
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Pike is dead.”
Her face changed.
“Owen?”
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He helped Claire.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“Pike wasn’t the traitor.”
I stared.
“Then why did he flee my house?”
“Because someone threatened his family. They told him to open the gate or his son would die.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because your enemy is careful.”
I crouched in front of her.
“Start with the birth.”
Lena closed her eyes.
“Grant—”
“Eight years.”
“I know.”
“My wife died.”
“I know.”
“My daughter is upstairs wondering if I’m her father.”
Lena flinched.
“And your daughter is upstairs wondering the same thing.”
My blood went cold.
“So Sky is mine.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She looked at me.
“There were two girls born that night.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know the rest.”
“Then tell me.”
Lena stood.
For one second, I thought she might walk away.
Instead, she crossed to an old records cabinet.
She opened it with the same type of key hidden in Claire’s music box.
Inside were paper files.
Real paper.
No network.
No easy deletion.
She handed me one.
NOVA HAWTHORNE.
Birth weight.
Blood type.
Complications.
Then another.
INFANT B.
No name.
Same date.
Different blood type.
“Which one is Nova?”
“That’s the problem.”
I looked up.
Lena’s eyes filled.
“Someone switched the bracelets.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
“I never knew.”
“Who delivered them?”
“Dr. Mercer.”
“The founder.”
“Yes.”
“He died six years ago.”
“I know.”
“Who else knew?”
“Claire. Me. One nurse.”
“What happened?”
Lena’s hands shook.
“Claire gave birth first. Nova was in distress. They moved her to another room. I went with the nurse because Claire was hemorrhaging and begged me not to let the baby be alone.”
She swallowed.
“Then another woman arrived.”
“What woman?”
“Very young. Terrified. She gave birth in the next room.”
“Sky?”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe?”
“The other mother disappeared before sunrise.”
I stared.
“You are not Sky’s biological mother?”
Lena shook her head.
My mind reeled.
“Then who is?”
“I don’t know.”
“You raised her eight years without knowing?”
“She was left at my apartment three days after Claire died.”
I stepped back.
“What?”
“Inside a carrier. With a note.”
“What note?”
Lena reached into the file.
She handed me a photograph.
A handwritten message:
LENA,
ONE OF THESE CHILDREN BELONGS TO GRANT.
ONE BELONGS TO THE MAN WHO KILLED CLAIRE.
KEEP THEM APART UNTIL YOU KNOW WHICH IS WHICH.
My stomach dropped.
“Who wrote this?”
“I thought Claire.”
“She was dead.”
“The handwriting looked like hers.”
“Could be forged.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you bring Sky to me?”
“Because if she was the killer’s daughter, whoever killed Claire might come looking. And if she was yours, bringing her to you might expose Nova.”
I could barely process it.
“You chose.”
“I chose to protect both girls by keeping one hidden.”
“You let me raise Nova without knowing.”
“I loved Claire.”
“So did I.”
“That’s why I was afraid of what you would do.”
Anger flared.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
That answer stole some of its force.
She continued.
“Then three months ago, Sky earned a scholarship to Rainier.”
“You sent her to Nova’s school.”
“No. She applied herself. She wanted a better school.”
Fate had put them together.
Or someone else had.
“Why did you not withdraw her?”
“Because Sky came home talking about Nova every day. She said Nova was funny. Brave. Bossy.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“She is.”
“Then I realized maybe keeping them apart had been the wrong choice.”
A sound came from the dark.
A slow clap.
We turned.
A man stepped between the archive shelves.
Dr. Isaac Mercer.
Dead for six years.
Except he was very much alive.
Older.
Thin.
Silver-haired.
He smiled at me.
“Mr. Hawthorne.”
I reached inside my jacket.
“Don’t.”
A red laser appeared on Lena’s chest.
Shooter somewhere above.
Mercer lifted both hands.
“I’m not here to kill anyone.”
“You kidnapped her.”
“I rescued her before someone else did.”
Lena stared.
“You had me tied to a chair.”
“For the camera.”
She looked furious.
“I hate you.”
“Many people do.”
I moved closer.
“You were declared dead.”
“Conveniently.”
“Why?”
“Because I discovered why the infants were switched.”
The room became still.
“Tell me.”
Mercer looked at Lena.
Then at me.
“Claire discovered someone in your family was using my clinic to hide children.”
“What children?”
“Children born to men in your organization. Affairs. Witnesses. Women who needed to disappear. Your father financed the system.”
My father.
Dead ten years.
His shadow still everywhere.
“What does that have to do with Nova?”
“Claire threatened to expose it.”
“And someone killed her.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Mercer’s eyes moved toward the ceiling.
“Someone whose child was born the same night.”
I thought of the note.
One girl belongs to Grant.
One belongs to Claire’s killer.
“Who was the other father?”
Mercer looked at me.
“You already trust him with your life.”
I heard the elevator doors open behind us.
Footsteps.
Vincent’s voice.
“Grant?”
Mercer smiled sadly.
Then he said:
“Ask Vincent what happened to the baby his wife supposedly lost eight years ago.”
I turned.
Vincent stood at the end of the aisle.
His gun in his hand.
May you like
His face white.
And he whispered, “Grant, don’t believe him.”
