Chapter 5 - WHAT EMILY HID BEFORE THEY TOOK HER
Nobody went to the cabin immediately.
Every part of me wanted to.
That was exactly why Elena stopped me.
“Five minutes.”
“I don’t have five minutes.”
“You have five minutes if using them keeps Thomas alive.”
I stared at her.
She didn’t blink.
“Mercer asked for files.”
She continued.
“That means he believes the files still exist.”
“So?”
“So Thomas is leverage.”
My jaw tightened.
“I know what leverage means.”
“Then behave like someone who knows.”
I hated her for saying it.
But I listened.
Emily sat at the kitchen table.
Marcus had regained enough consciousness to speak.
Caleb remained on the porch.
He hadn’t said a word since learning about Rachel.
I crouched in front of Emily.
“What did you find?”
She looked at my mother’s empty chair.
“Your father had kept records.”
“Of Caleb?”
“Of a lot more.”
“What?”
“Pregnancies.”
“Births.”
“Payments.”
“Medical procedures.”
“What kind of procedures?”
Emily hesitated.
“Fertility.”
I stared.
“What did Dad have to do with fertility medicine?”
“He invested in a clinic.”
“When?”
“Thirty years ago.”
“What clinic?”
“St. Catherine.”
The name meant something.
I had driven past it as a kid.
Old brick medical building.
Closed now.
“Why would Dad hide that?”
“Because the clinic wasn’t doing only legal fertility treatments.”
My stomach tightened.
“What were they doing?”
“Switching embryos.”
Caleb had entered without me noticing.
“What?”
Emily looked at him.
“Changing records.”
“Using donor material without consent.”
“Placing children.”
The room became very quiet.
I thought about Caleb.
Rachel.
My father.
“Was Caleb part of that?”
“I think so.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Emily continued.
“Your adoption wasn’t normal.”
“Rachel gave birth to you.”
“Then why would there be fertility records?”
“Because they recorded every child connected to the program.”
“Program?”
Emily looked at me.
“That’s the word they used.”
“What program?”
“I don’t know the full purpose.”
“Then what do you know?”
She took a breath.
“Your father paid Sheriff Mercer for years.”
Caleb looked toward me.
“I saw checks.”
Emily continued.
“Not campaign donations.”
“Personal payments.”
“Every month.”
“How much?”
“Sometimes five thousand.”
“Sometimes ten.”
“Why?”
“I think Mercer protected the clinic.”
Elena leaned against the counter.
“Protected from what?”
“Complaints.”
“Missing records.”
“Women who changed their minds.”
A chill went through me.
“Rachel.”
Emily nodded.
“She came back.”
“Why now?”
“She was sick.”
“Cancer.”
“She thought she was running out of time.”
Caleb closed his eyes.
“She wanted to see me.”
“Yes.”
“Did she?”
Emily looked at him.
“Yes.”
Caleb froze.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“I never met her.”
“You did.”
“No.”
Emily’s eyes filled.
“The woman at the grocery store.”
Caleb stared.
“What woman?”
“You told me about her.”
“She dropped a jar beside you.”
“She kept staring.”
His face changed.
He remembered.
“She asked if I was Caleb Hale.”
“Yes.”
“I thought she knew Dad.”
“She knew you.”
Caleb sat.
His hands began shaking.
“She didn’t tell me.”
“She was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Margaret.”
He looked toward our mother’s empty chair.
I almost corrected Emily.
Mom.
But I stopped.
The word felt unstable now.
“She thought Margaret would keep you from believing her.”
Caleb laughed bitterly.
“She was right.”
Silence.
I turned back to Emily.
“What did you hide?”
She looked toward the living room.
“In the coffin room.”
Everyone stared.
“Where?”
“The fireplace.”
I stood.
We moved quickly.
Emily guided us from the kitchen.
Her steps were weak.
I tried to carry her.
She refused.
“I need to show you.”
We entered the living room.
Rachel’s body remained in the coffin.
Caleb stopped.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Not as Emily.
As Rachel.
His mother.
His face crumpled.
He stepped closer.
I let him.
Emily pointed toward the fireplace.
“Third brick from the left.”
I crouched.
The brick moved slightly.
Loose.
I pulled.
Behind it was a narrow cavity.
Inside sat a vacuum-sealed plastic pouch.
Elena took it carefully.
Documents.
Flash drive.
Small notebook.
Photographs.
One photograph fell onto the rug.
I picked it up.
My father.
Much younger.
Sheriff Mercer.
A blond woman in scrubs.
And Rachel.
Pregnant.
Caleb took the photograph.
“That’s her.”
Emily nodded.
“Who’s the woman in scrubs?”
“Laura Mercer.”
“Mercer’s wife?”
Emily shook her head.
“Sister.”
Caleb looked at me.
The woman from the phone upstairs.
Same face.
Older now.
“She was in the lock-screen photo with you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She approached me two months ago.”
“What did she say?”
“That Rachel was dangerous.”
“Did you believe her?”
“For about ten minutes.”
“What changed?”
“She offered me money.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
“For what?”
“To leave town.”
The room went silent.
I stared at Emily.
“You never told me.”
“You were overseas.”
“That hasn’t stopped anyone tonight.”
She flinched.
I regretted it immediately.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I should have told you.”
“I thought I could understand it first.”
“Then the miscarriage happened.”
My breathing stopped.
“What miscarriage?”
Caleb looked away.
Emily’s eyes filled.
“I lost the first baby.”
The room tilted.
“What?”
“Eleven weeks.”
“No.”
“You were in Kandahar.”
“We spoke every day.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because two days later the clinic called.”
“What clinic?”
“St. Catherine’s successor facility.”
“They said we still had embryos.”
My mind raced.
Emily and I had undergone fertility treatment before deployment.
Two embryos had been stored.
Or so we believed.
“You became pregnant again.”
“Yes.”
“With Thomas.”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
Every memory shifted.
The dates.
The ultrasound pictures.
Her reluctance to talk about the first trimester.
I had thought deployment stress explained it.
“You went through that alone.”
“I didn’t want your last months overseas to become guilt.”
I closed my eyes.
Then opened them.
“Thomas is mine?”
Emily stared at me.
“As far as I know.”
“As far as you know?”
“That’s what I started investigating.”
Cold spread through me.
“The clinic records didn’t match.”
“What didn’t match?”
“Embryo identification.”
Caleb whispered.
“Oh my God.”
Emily nodded.
“I think someone switched the embryos.”
My heart pounded.
“Whose embryo was implanted?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does Thomas belong to us?”
“He is my son.”
Her voice turned fierce.
“I carried him.”
“I loved him.”
“I almost died trying to keep him.”
“I know.”
“But biologically…”
She swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
My phone buzzed again.
Mercer.
TEN MINUTES.
Then another.
COME ALONE.
Elena read it.
“He’s escalating.”
I looked at the files.
“What does he want most?”
Emily pointed to the flash drive.
“That.”
“What’s on it?”
“I copied everything.”
“Birth records.”
“DNA records.”
“Payments.”
“Names.”
“How many?”
Emily whispered.
“Hundreds.”
Elena went still.
“Hundreds of what?”
“Children.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Caleb looked toward Rachel.
“Was Daniel one of them?”
Emily stared at me.
I felt the answer before she spoke.
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“You said those adoption papers were Caleb’s.”
“They were.”
“Then why am I in the records?”
“Because your birth file is there too.”
“My birth wasn’t at St. Catherine.”
“That’s what your birth certificate says.”
My stomach turned.
“What does the file say?”
Emily looked terrified.
“That Margaret Hale is not your biological mother.”
The room disappeared around me.
“And Dad?”
Emily’s silence hurt worse.
“Is Richard Hale my biological father?”
“I don’t know.”
My phone rang.
Mercer.
I answered.
“Where is my son?”
His voice came calm.
Almost friendly.
“At the cabin.”
“Let me hear him.”
“You don’t give orders anymore, Daniel.”
“I want proof he’s alive.”
A pause.
Then crying.
Thomas.
My entire body reacted.
I gripped the phone.
“I’m coming.”
“Alone.”
“You hurt him and there is nowhere on this planet you will be safe.”
Mercer laughed softly.
“Still a soldier.”
“No.”
I looked at Emily.
“Now I’m a father.”
His voice hardened.
“Bring the drive.”
The call ended.
Elena held out her hand.
“Give me the real drive.”
“What?”
“You’re taking a copy.”
“You think he’ll check?”
“Eventually.”
“And when he finds out?”
“By then we’ll be inside.”
“Inside where?”
“The cabin.”
“He said alone.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“He didn’t say I couldn’t be three hundred yards away.”
Caleb stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
He stared at me.
“Rachel died because of this.”
“Thomas is my responsibility.”
“Rachel was mine.”
His voice broke.
“I spent my whole life thinking Margaret was my mother.”
“I found my real mother tonight.”
“She was dead in a coffin wearing your wife’s face.”
He looked toward Rachel.
“I’m coming.”
I studied him.
The brother I had suspected less than two hours earlier.
The brother Emily had warned me about.
The brother who had lied.
The brother whose entire identity had just been destroyed.
“You called Thomas your son.”
Caleb flinched.
Emily looked at him.
He sat down slowly.
“That’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?”
He looked at Emily.
“She told me the clinic might have used my sample.”
I stared.
“What sample?”
Caleb looked sick.
“Years ago.”
“I donated.”
“Why?”
“For money.”
“College.”
“I was twenty.”
“You think Thomas might be biologically yours?”
“I don’t know.”
My hands clenched.
Emily spoke quickly.
“I never said that.”
“You said his genetic file was altered.”
“Yes.”
“And you told him?”
“I needed help accessing records.”
Caleb looked at me.
“I swear I never touched Emily.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Then answer the question I did ask.”
“Why did you call Thomas your son?”
Caleb’s eyes filled.
“Because Mom told me he was.”
Silence.
I stared.
“When?”
“The night she came back without Emily.”
“She handed me the baby.”
“She said…”
His voice cracked.
“She said the clinic had confirmed he was mine.”
I stopped breathing.
Emily whispered.
“She lied.”
“I know that now.”
Caleb looked at me.
“I held him for two days believing he was my child.”
“I didn’t know what happened.”
“I didn’t know where Emily was.”
“I didn’t know what to tell you.”
“So I did nothing.”
He lowered his head.
“And that is the worst thing I have ever done.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then I stepped toward him.
“If we get Thomas back, you tell me everything.”
“Yes.”
“No more protecting Mom.”
“Yes.”
“No more half-truths.”
“Yes.”
I held out my hand.
He looked at it.
Then took it.
For the first time that night, we were brothers again.
Not because of blood.
Because we finally had the same enemy.
Twenty minutes later, I drove north alone.
At least, that was what Mercer believed.
Elena followed far behind with no headlights for the final three miles.
Caleb was with her.
The hunting cabin appeared through the trees at 2:17 a.m.
One light burned upstairs.
I parked.
Stepped out.
No visible weapon.
Hands open.
The porch light turned on.
My mother opened the door.
Thomas was in her arms.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly gave out.
“Give me my son.”
She looked at me.
And for the first time that night, she looked truly broken.
“I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
Her mouth trembled.
“Everything.”
“Give him to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Her eyes moved behind me.
Then back.
“Because if I do, Mercer will kill all of us.”
A shadow appeared inside the cabin.
Sheriff Mercer stepped into the light.
A gun pressed against my mother’s back.
“There’s my soldier.”
I stared at Thomas.
“Give me my son.”
Mercer smiled.
“Eventually.”
“What do you want?”
“The drive.”
“You get it after I get Thomas.”
“No.”
He tightened the weapon against Margaret.
“You’re not in command here.”
I looked at my mother.
“Did you kill Rachel?”
Her face collapsed.
Mercer’s smile disappeared.
“Wrong question.”
She whispered.
“Yes.”
My chest went hollow.
Mercer turned toward her.
“Margaret.”
“She deserves the truth.”
“She came here.”
Tears rolled down my mother’s face.
“Rachel came to the house.”
“She wanted Caleb.”
“He was her son.”
“He was mine too.”
“No.”
Mercer’s voice was cold.
“You raised him.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“She threatened to expose us.”
Margaret continued.
“She said she would tell Daniel.”
“Why me?”
“Because she thought you would believe her.”
“What happened?”
“We argued.”
“She tried to take the files.”
“I grabbed her.”
“She pulled away.”
“I pushed her.”
Margaret began sobbing.
“She fell down the stairs.”
My hands went numb.
“You killed her.”
“It was an accident.”
“And then you turned her into Emily.”
Mercer smiled.
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To explain Emily’s disappearance.”
My stomach twisted.
“You planned to bury Rachel under my wife’s name.”
“Yes.”
“And what happened to Emily after the funeral?”
Margaret looked at Mercer.
Her expression changed.
For the first time, she understood something.
“You said you would release her.”
Mercer laughed.
“I said what you needed to hear.”
Margaret went white.
“You were going to kill her.”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
My mother began shaking.
“William.”
“Shut up.”
He took Thomas from her arms.
My entire body tightened.
“Careful.”
Mercer held my son against his chest.
Gun still in his other hand.
“Now.”
He looked at me.
“The drive.”
I slowly reached into my jacket.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
“Put the baby down.”
Elena.
Mercer froze.
A rifle bolt clicked somewhere to his right.
Caleb stepped into the edge of the porch light.
Mercer stared at him.
His expression changed.
Not affection.
Annoyance.
Caleb noticed too.
“Give Daniel his son.”
Mercer laughed.
“You still think he’s Daniel’s?”
The world stopped.
My mother whispered.
“Don’t.”
I stared at Mercer.
“What did you say?”
He looked down at Thomas.
Then at me.
“You came all this way chasing the wrong truth.”
“Mercer.”
He smiled.
May you like
“That baby isn’t yours.”
And the way my mother looked away told me this time, the sheriff might not be lying.
