Chapter 10 - The Second Cradle

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway buzzed like angry hornets. Christopher stared at the paper in his hand until the black ink blurred together.

Emma has a twin brother.

"Chris? What is it?" Captain Vance stepped closer, noticing how Christopher’s knuckles had bleached white against the page. "What did she write?"

"A boy," Christopher breathed, his voice barely audible over the sterile rumble of the ventilation system. "Rachel gave birth to twins. She hid him."

He read the rest of the letter with ravenous, desperate speed.

Estelle found out about the pregnancy at six months, Rachel had written in tight, hurried strokes. She cornered me in the hospital during a routine ultrasound and told me no bastard would ever inherit a single share of Pierce stock. She threatened to make the baby vanish the second it took its first breath. I knew she meant it. So I bribed the delivery ward nurse at County General to forge the birth certificate as a single birth. When they were born, I kept Emma. But Leo... I gave Leo to the only person in this world your mother couldn't buy.

Christopher’s heart hammered against his ribs. "Leo. His name is Leo."

"Who did she give the child to, Chris?" Vance asked, his detective instincts kicking into overdrive. "County General records from six years ago were completely digitalized, but if there was a cover-up, Estelle might have had access."

Christopher’s eyes locked onto the final line of the letter:

Find my sister, Sarah. She’s living under her maiden name in Blackwood Ridge, Maine. Tell her the storm has finally broken.

"Sarah," Christopher whispered. "I thought Sarah moved to London eight years ago. Estelle told me she went abroad after a corporate dispute."

"Estelle lied to keep you from asking questions," Vance said grimly. "If your mother knew about the boy, she would have tracked him down. If she didn't know, then Sarah has been raising your son completely off the grid for six years."

Christopher turned and looked through the glass window of the hospital room. Inside, Emma was holding her sketchbook up to Yvette, smiling proudly as the elderly housekeeper admired the drawing.

A daughter he had almost lost in a swimming pool.

A son he had never even known existed.

"Get your team ready, Vance," Christopher said, folding the letter carefully and sliding it into his breast pocket. "We’re flying to Maine."

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"Wait," Vance raised a hand. "You need to be careful. If Juliette took a plea deal, Estelle knows she’s cornered. Even from a federal holding cell, a woman with Estelle’s billions still has reach. If she figures out why you're heading north before we secure that child, she will try to tie up the final loose end."

"Then we don't give her the chance," Christopher said, his jaw setting like concrete. "Let's move."