Chapter 8 — The Second Birth Certificate
I couldn't breathe.
“Hide me?”
Angela nodded.
“That's what the record says.”
Marcus took the laptop.
“Let's not jump to conclusions.”
He examined the transaction.
“This could be a reference number.”
“No,” Angela said.
“I've seen this format before.”
She pointed to the code.
“Child 417.”
Sue stepped closer.
“What does it mean?”
Angela looked at her.
“It means the person connected to the file wasn't necessarily the person named in the file.”
My head was spinning.
“Then who was Child 417?”
Angela opened another document.
A list of placement codes.
417 — Female infant.
418 — Female infant.
419 — Male infant.
Three consecutive cases.
But only two had final adoption records.
“Where's 418?” I asked.
Angela didn't answer.
“Where's 418?”
“Missing.”
“And 417?”
She looked at Sue.
“Your wife.”
I stared at the screen.
“Then what about 418?”
“That may be Rebecca.”
Sue's face went pale.
“So Rebecca wasn't my twin?”
“We don't know.”
Marcus frowned.
“Why would the records show two separate case numbers?”
Angela answered:
“Because Hartwell didn't always classify children by biological relationship.”
She opened another file.
“Sometimes siblings were deliberately separated.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
The word was blunt.
Cold.
Simple.
“Different families paid different amounts.”
I stared at her.
“You're telling me children were sold?”
Angela looked down.
“I’m telling you there were private placement fees that were never properly documented.”
Sue's eyes filled with tears.
“And Martha?”
“She approved them.”
My fists tightened.
Then Marcus interrupted.
“Wait.”
He pointed at the birth certificate.
“This isn't Rebecca's.”
“What?”
“Look at the registration date.”
I leaned over.
The birth certificate had been registered three months after Evelyn Morgan's death.
“That means it was created later,” Marcus said.
“Yes.”
“But there's another problem.”
He zoomed in.
“The hospital identification number doesn't match the hospital's numbering system.”
Angela stared.
“That certificate is fake.”
“Then Rebecca's entire identity could be fake.”
Sue shook her head.
“No.”
Marcus looked at her.
“What?”
“I know her.”
“You've never met her.”
Sue closed her eyes.
“I know her face.”
“From where?”
She touched her forehead.
“I don't know.”
Then she whispered:
“A photograph.”
Angela asked:
“What photograph?”
“My mother had one.”
“What did it show?”
“Two babies.”
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Sue shook her head.
“Someone had written names on the back.”
“What names?”
She opened her eyes.
“Mine.”
“And?”
Sue swallowed.
“Rebecca.”
Nobody spoke.
Marcus slowly sat down.
“If that's true…”
Angela finished the sentence.
“Then the two children were identified as sisters from the beginning.”
I looked at Sue.
“Why did they separate you?”
Angela's answer came quietly.
“Because someone wanted to control where each child ended up.”
A sudden sound came from outside.
A car door slammed.
Marcus stood.
“Did anyone follow us?”
“I don't know.”
He went to the window.
A black sedan was parked across the road.
No headlights.
No driver visible.
Sue pulled our baby closer.
I grabbed my phone.
“Call the police.”
Marcus nodded.
But before he could dial, his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then a man's voice said:
“You have the wrong family.”
Marcus frowned.
“Who is this?”
“You should stop.”
“Who are you?”
The caller hung up.
Then Marcus's laptop screen went black.
“The hell?”
Angela rushed over.
“Someone hacked it.”
She unplugged the device.
Too late.
A notification appeared.
REMOTE ACCESS DETECTED.
Then another.
FILE TRANSFER COMPLETE.
Angela stared.
“What did they take?”
Marcus checked the system.
“Everything.”
I felt a cold wave run through me.
“Can they erase the files?”
“They already copied them.”
“So?”
“So now whoever is behind this knows exactly what we found.”
Sue looked at me.
“Daniel…”
Her voice trembled.
“Maybe we should stop.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I'm scared.”
“So am I.”
She looked at me.
“But I'm not letting them scare us back into silence.”
For the first time, Sue smiled faintly.
Then the lights went out.
The entire house became black.
The baby began crying.
Sue held her tightly.
“Daniel?”
“I'm here.”
A sound came from the hallway.
One slow step.
Then another.
Marcus whispered:
“Someone's inside.”
I reached for the flashlight on the table.
Nothing.
The footsteps stopped.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
“Daniel.”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
It was my mother.
“Martha?”
She stepped into the faint moonlight.
She wasn't alone.
Rebecca stood behind her.
Sue gasped.
Rebecca looked at her.
For a moment, the two women simply stared at each other.
Then Rebecca whispered:
“You have no idea how long I've been looking for you.”
Sue's eyes filled with tears.
“Why?”
Rebecca looked at Martha.
“Because she told me you were dead.”
Sue stepped forward.
“What?”
Rebecca's voice cracked.
“She told me my sister died as a baby.”
I looked at my mother.
“You lied to her too.”
Martha didn't answer.
Rebecca continued.
“She said I was the only child who survived.”
Sue stared at her.
“Then why did she separate us?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Martha finally spoke.
“Because you were never supposed to meet.”
I stepped between her and Sue.
“You're going to tell us everything.”
Martha looked at me.
Then she smiled.
It wasn't the smile of a woman who had been caught.
It was the smile of someone who still believed she held the final card.
“You think Rebecca is your sister.”
She looked at Sue.
“But you're asking the wrong question.”
Sue stared at her.
“What question?”
Martha took a folded document from her coat.
She placed it on the table.
“A DNA test.”
My heart stopped.
Rebecca stepped forward.
“That's impossible.”
Martha smiled.
“Read it.”
Sue opened the document.
Her eyes moved across the page.
Then she stopped.
Her face went completely white.
I took the paper from her.
At the top was a laboratory report.
PATERNITY / SIBLING RELATIONSHIP ANALYSIS
The first name:
SUE HAYES
The second:
REBECCA MORGAN
I scanned the result.
NO BIOLOGICAL SIBLING RELATIONSHIP DETECTED.
I looked up.
Rebecca was crying.
Sue couldn't speak.
Martha whispered:
“You were never sisters.”
Then she looked directly at me.
“And that's not even the worst part.”
She pointed toward our baby.
“The child in that crib…”
Her voice dropped.
“...is the reason I had to find Sue in the first place.”
I felt every muscle in my body tense.
“What are you talking about?”
Martha smiled.
“Ask yourselves why the hospital created a second birth certificate.”
She turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Oh, Daniel?”
I looked at her.
“The baby they were looking for thirty-one years ago…”
She glanced at our daughter.
“…wasn't Rebecca.”
She walked away.
May you like
Leaving us with one terrifying question:
If Rebecca wasn't the other baby, then who was?
