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.
“My brother was born with that mark.”
I stared at my son.
“What happened to him?”
Brad looked at Detective Harris.
Then at the nurse on the floor.
And finally at me.
“He wasn’t supposed to die.”
He took a trembling breath.
“He was supposed to inherit everything.”
“What everything?”
Brad’s eyes filled with tears.
“Our father’s medical empire.”
I frowned.
“What does that have to do with my baby?”
Brad stepped closer.
“Everything.”
He pointed toward the birthmark.
“That mark isn’t just a family mark.”
His voice broke.
“It’s how they identify the Sullivan heir.”
And then the hospital lights went out again.
This time, the emergency system didn’t come back on.
In the darkness, somewhere down the hallway, a man’s voice whispered:
“Found them.”
And Brad grabbed my hand.
“Clara, we have to go.”
I held my son tighter.
“Where?”
He looked at me.
“Somewhere they can’t find us.”
“Where?”
Brad’s answer terrified me.
“Home.”
I stared at him.
“We don’t have a home.”
He shook his head.
“You don’t.”
He looked toward the dark hallway.
“But I do.”
Then, for the first time in seven months, my husband squeezed my hand.
And I realized the man standing in front of me wasn’t the Brad who had walked away from me.
He was the Brad who had been running.
And whatever he had been running from—
had finally caught up with us.
PART 5
“Home.”
The word echoed inside my head.
I looked at Brad as the hospital remained plunged into darkness.
“You have a home?”
He nodded.
“But you told me you disappeared.”
“I did.”
“Then where have you been living?”
“Underground.”
I stared at him.
He looked toward Detective Harris.
“We don’t have much time.”
Harris immediately understood.
“How many people know you’re alive?”
“Three.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
“Dr. Sullivan?”
Brad shook his head.
“No. Not the man you met tonight.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Brad looked at me.
“The man who came into your room wasn’t my father.”
I remembered the gray-haired doctor crying over my baby.
The birthmark.
The envelope.
The story about Brad.
The black ring.
Everything suddenly felt unreal.
“Then who was he?”
“I don’t know.”
Brad looked toward the hallway.
“But he knew enough about my family to convince you.”
Detective Harris frowned.
“Where is Dr. Ricardo Sullivan?”
Brad’s face changed.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“He wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Harris immediately touched her radio.
“Units, locate Dr. Ricardo Sullivan. Possible impersonation inside maternity wing.”
Static answered.
Then nothing.
Harris tried again.
Still nothing.
Brad looked at me.
“They’ve jammed the communications system.”
I held my baby closer.
“Who are they?”
Brad’s jaw tightened.
“My uncle.”
I stared at him.
“Your uncle?”
“My father’s younger brother. Victor Sullivan.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Brad’s expression told me it should.
“He runs the private side of the Sullivan medical business,” Brad said. “Hospitals, laboratories, pharmaceutical investments, private clinics. My father built the company. Victor wanted control.”
“And your brother?”
“My twin, Daniel.”
Brad closed his eyes.
“When we were born, Daniel was supposed to inherit everything.”
“Why?”
“Because my grandfather changed his will.”
He looked at my baby.
“Daniel was the firstborn.”
I frowned.
“But you’re twins.”
“Daniel was born eleven minutes before me.”
Brad gave a bitter smile.
“My grandfather believed the firstborn male should inherit the family trust.”
“And the birthmark?”
Brad nodded.
“It was considered the family’s identifying mark.”
I looked at my son.
“But why would anyone care about a birthmark?”
“Because the trust had a condition.”
Brad’s voice dropped.
“Only a direct Sullivan heir could access it.”
Detective Harris crossed her arms.
“That still doesn’t explain seven months of hiding.”
Brad looked at her.
“It does when you understand what Victor did.”
“What did he do?”
“He killed Daniel.”
Silence.
My baby made a tiny sound.
I gently rocked him.
Brad continued.
“Daniel discovered that Victor had been stealing from the company for years.”
Harris asked, “How much?”
“Enough to destroy him.”
“How much?”
“Hundreds of millions.”
Harris’s expression hardened.
“And Daniel found out?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He was killed before he could expose it.”
Brad looked at me.
“Victor then tried to make it look like Daniel had disappeared.”
I whispered, “And you?”
“He needed me to become Daniel.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because I was his identical twin.”
The pieces began to connect.
“He wanted you to impersonate him?”
“Yes.”
“And when you refused…”
“He tried to kill me too.”
I remembered the black ring.
The car.
The lake.
The blood.
“You escaped.”
Brad nodded.
“Barely.”
“Why didn’t you come back to me?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Because Victor knew about you.”
I stopped breathing.
“He knew about your pregnancy.”
I stared at him.
“How?”
“Daniel told him.”
“Your brother knew about me?”
Brad nodded.
“He knew everything.”
He reached into his jacket.
Then he pulled out a small photograph.
He handed it to me.
It showed me.
Eight months pregnant.
Walking into the diner where I worked.
I stared at it.
“When was this taken?”
“Seven months ago.”
My fingers trembled.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Brad pointed to the corner.
A date.
Seven months earlier.
“You were being watched before I disappeared.”
I felt sick.
“By Victor?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew I had discovered the truth.”
I looked at my son.
“And he wanted my baby?”
Brad nodded.
“He believed your son was the next legal heir.”
My heart pounded.
“But how would he know the baby was a boy?”
“Because someone inside the hospital leaked your prenatal records.”
The nurse who had attacked us was still being restrained by Detective Harris.
Harris looked at her.
“Who sent you?”
The woman said nothing.
Brad stepped closer.
“Ask her about Victor.”
The nurse’s face went pale.
Harris noticed.
“You know him.”
“No.”
“Then why did you react?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Harris signaled one of the officers.
“Take her.”
As the officer pulled her away, the woman suddenly screamed.
“You don’t understand!”
Everyone stopped.
“He’ll kill my daughter!”
Brad froze.
“Who?”
“Victor!”
Harris stared at her.
“Where is he?”
The woman began crying.
“I don’t know.”
“Who gave you the syringe?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Who gave you access to the maternity floor?”
The woman closed her eyes.
“He said the baby had to die.”
My blood turned cold.
Brad stepped forward.
“What did you say?”
The woman looked at him.
“He said the Sullivan bloodline had to end.”
Brad’s face became expressionless.
Then he looked at me.
“Clara.”
“What?”
“We need to leave.”
“But where?”
“My house.”
“Why would your house be safe?”
“Because Victor thinks it was destroyed.”
“What?”
Brad took my hand.
“Come with me.”
Detective Harris stepped between us.
“I’m coming too.”
Brad nodded.
“You should.”
We moved through a service corridor while the officers secured the floor.
The hospital was strangely silent.
Too silent.
Every few seconds, I looked over my shoulder.