Chapter 2: Three Infants
I read the page six times.
It never changed.
Three infant identification numbers.
One delivery date.
One mother.
And two different paternal testing columns.
My fingers shook so badly the paper rattled.
Marcus took it before I tore it accidentally.
“Sylvester.””
“There were three babies?””
“We don’t know that yet.””
“The paper says three.””
“It says three infant identifiers. We need to verify what each one represents.””
Eleanor gave a bitter laugh.
“Now you suddenly care about verification?””
I turned toward her.
“You don't get to talk.””
She went silent.
Lily stood beside me, watching every adult face.
That brought me back to reality.
She was six.
Whatever nightmare I had just stepped into, she shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of it.
I crouched.
“Lily.””
“Yes?””
“Detective Reed is going to find someone who can stay with you for a little while.””
Her face changed instantly.
“No.””
I froze.
She grabbed my coat.
“Please don't send me back.””
“I’m not.””
“Grandma always says people send children away when they cause trouble.””
Eleanor inhaled sharply.
I stood.
“Did you tell her that?””
“She needed discipline.””
“She needed safety.””
Lily’s hand was still wrapped around my sleeve.
I looked at Marcus.
“She stays with me.””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Until child services clears placement, we need to follow procedure.””
“I understand.””
Lily looked terrified.
I knelt again.
“Nobody is taking you back to Eleanor.””
Her eyes filled.
“Promise?””
“I promise.””
She nodded.
That promise felt heavier than any contract I had signed in my life.
Marcus arranged for a child welfare officer named Dana Cole to meet us in a private conference room.
Lily sat beside me.
I gave her hot chocolate from the hospital café.
She barely touched it.
Eleanor sat on the opposite side of the room with an attorney who had arrived astonishingly quickly.
That told me she had expected trouble.
Dana spoke gently.
“Lily, do you know Sophie Kane?””
Lily stared into her cup.
“No.””
“Have you ever seen pictures of her?””
A pause.
“Yes.””
I looked at Eleanor.
“How?””
Lily answered before Eleanor could.
“Grandma had a box.””
“What box?””
“A red one.””
“What was inside?””
“Pictures.””
“Of Sophie?””
“And you.””
My chest tightened.
“What did Grandma say about me?””
Lily looked ashamed.
“That you didn't want me.””
I closed my eyes.
For one dangerous second, anger nearly swallowed me.
Then I felt Lily watching me.
I controlled my voice.
“That wasn't true.””
“I know now.””
“How?””
She pointed toward the photograph.
“Because you looked happy beside the baby.””
I couldn't answer.
Dana continued.
“Did Eleanor ever tell you who your parents were?””
“She said my mommy left.””
“Did she give you a name?””
Lily nodded.
“Caroline.””
My entire body went rigid.
Caroline Kane was my former wife.
Sophie’s mother.
She had died eighteen months after Sophie’s birth following complications from an autoimmune illness.
Before her death, she had never once mentioned another living child.
Not Lily.
Not the boy.
Not a third infant.
“Caroline was your mother?””
Lily shrugged.
“Grandma said maybe.””
Eleanor’s attorney spoke.
“My client will not permit speculative questioning.””
Dana’s eyes hardened.
“This is a child welfare interview.””
Marcus entered the room.
He carried another file.
I knew from his face that it was bad.
“Can we speak outside?””
“No.””
“Sylvester.””
“Whatever it is, Eleanor should hear it.””
Marcus considered that.
Then opened the file.
“The adoption agency still exists.””
I leaned forward.
“And?””
“The male infant was placed with a family in Oregon six years ago.””
My pulse pounded.
“Do we have a name?””
“We have the adoptive family’s name, but we’re not releasing anything until we confirm identity.””
“Is he alive?””
Marcus nodded.
“As far as the records indicate.””
I covered my mouth.
Somewhere in Oregon, a six-year-old boy had been living an entire life.
Birthdays.
First words.
First steps.
School.
Christmas mornings.
Maybe he rode a bicycle.
Maybe he hated broccoli.
Maybe he had my eyes.
And I had mourned him.
“Did the adoptive family know?””
“Early indications suggest they believed everything was legal.””
Eleanor’s attorney spoke quickly.
“Then there is no evidence my client committed any crime.””
Marcus looked at him.
“We found a forged maternal consent form.””
The attorney stopped talking.
My gaze shifted to Eleanor.
She looked tired now.
Older.
“Whose signature?””
“Caroline’s.””
I whispered, “She didn't sign it?””
“The preliminary comparison says no.””
I stared at Eleanor.
“You forged my wife’s signature.””
Eleanor looked at me for a long time.
Then she said, “Caroline was in no condition to decide anything.””
“You decided to give away her child?””
“I made a choice.””
“You stole a baby.””
“I saved this family.””
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
Lily jumped.
That stopped me.
I sat again.
Dana moved closer to Lily.
Marcus continued.
“There’s more.””
Of course there was.
There was always more.
“The genetic report you found was preliminary. We located the corresponding lab archive.””
Eleanor suddenly became very still.
Marcus noticed.
“So did I,” he said.
Her attorney leaned toward her.
“Don't say anything.””
Marcus looked at me.
“The three infant identifiers belonged to three babies delivered within fourteen minutes.””
Triplets.
The word formed in my mind before he spoke it.
“Triplets,” Marcus confirmed.
I couldn’t process it.
Sophie.
Lily.
The boy in Oregon.
Three children.
Three lives.
Three secrets.
“Why was I told there were twins?””
“You weren’t,” Eleanor said quietly.
I looked at her.
“You were told there had been two infants.””
That distinction chilled me.
“What does that mean?””
She didn’t answer.
Marcus placed another document on the table.
“The lab tested paternity because one infant had a blood-type discrepancy.””
I stared at the paper.
“Which infant?””
“That’s where the identifiers become important.””
He pointed.
Infant A.
Female.
Infant B.
Female.
Infant C.
Male.
My throat tightened.
“Sophie is A?””
“We believe so.””
“Lily?””
“B.””
“And the boy is C.””
“Yes.””
I looked at the columns.
Paternal Match: Confirmed.
Paternal Match: Confirmed.
Paternal Match: Excluded.
I stopped.
“No.””
Marcus said nothing.
I reread it.
Infant A: confirmed.
Infant B: confirmed.
Infant C: excluded.
The boy wasn't biologically mine.
My mind immediately went somewhere painful.
Caroline.
Another man.
An affair.
A secret.
But Eleanor whispered, “Don’t.””
I looked at her.
“Don't what?””
“Don't blame Caroline.””
My laugh sounded broken.
“The report says I’m not his father.””
“That doesn't mean Caroline betrayed you.””
“What else could it mean?””
Eleanor’s attorney touched her arm.
She pushed him away.
For the first time that afternoon, her composure cracked.
“Because Caroline didn’t carry all three children.””
Silence.
Marcus frowned.
“What?””
Eleanor looked at him.
Then at me.
I could barely hear her next words.
“There were two pregnancies.””
I stared at her.
“That’s impossible.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“Just hidden.””
Dana quietly guided Lily toward the far side of the room.
I hardly noticed.
Eleanor continued.
“Caroline carried Sophie and Lily.””
My heart hammered.
“Twins.””
“Yes.””
“And the boy?””
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Another woman delivered him in the adjoining surgical suite.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Then why does he have the Kane family identifier?””
“Because someone switched the records.””
“Who?””
Eleanor looked directly at me.
“I did.””
I couldn't speak.
She continued.
“The boy needed to disappear.””
“Why?””
“Because his father was married.””
“So?””
“Because his mother was someone Caroline knew.””
My stomach dropped.
“Who?””
Eleanor hesitated.
Then Marcus placed the complete genetic report on the table.
One name appeared beneath the male infant’s biological father.
I recognized it immediately.
Not from my movies.
Not from Hollywood.
From my own family.
My younger brother.
Adrian Kane.
I stared at the name until the letters blurred.
Adrian had died five years earlier.
A car accident outside Santa Barbara.
He had left no wife.
No children.
At least that was what I had believed.
Eleanor whispered, “Now you understand why I couldn't let anyone see that boy.””
“No.””
I looked up.
“I understand nothing.””
She wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Adrian wasn't the real scandal.””
Marcus stiffened.
“What does that mean?””
Eleanor’s face hardened again.
“The woman who gave birth to his son was.””
“Who was she?””
Eleanor looked toward Lily.
Then toward me.
“She was still inside the hospital when you arrived.””
I stepped closer.
“Tell me her name.””
Eleanor whispered it.
And for the second time that day, the floor seemed to disappear beneath me.
Because the woman she named had been standing beside Caroline’s hospital bed that night.
May you like
Holding my newborn daughter.
And I had trusted her more than almost anyone alive.
