Chapter 16 - THE FIRST VOICE
The note had another page.
I forced myself to read it.
Eleanor paid me the night Lila was born.
Not to steal her.
To keep quiet.
I took the money.
I told myself I was afraid.
I told myself I was young.
Neither excuse is enough.
Years from now, if Lila asks who tried to save her, do not use my name.
I stared at the page.
Seven weeks ago.
Evelyn had not been some innocent witness.
She had accepted money.
Then regretted it.
Then came back.
People were complicated.
That did not make their choices disappear.
But the final line mattered.
I took the bracelet because the barcode links to an archived blood-gas sample.
They will destroy it if they find it first.
I am going to retrieve the sample.
The hospital laboratory.
Reed immediately contacted security.
Too late.
Evelyn had entered using an old credential.
Then disappeared.
But archived sample storage was offsite.
A warehouse in Queens.
We drove there.
The manager met us at the loading dock.
“Someone already requested the specimen.”
“Who?”
He showed Reed the authorization.
Dr. Nathaniel Voss.
My pulse jumped.
“When?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
“Picked up?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
The manager pulled surveillance footage.
A courier.
Helmet.
Motorcycle.
No visible face.
Reed swore.
Another dead end.
Then my watch vibrated.
An old recording notification.
Cloud synchronization had completed.
One file had failed to upload during the ballroom incident and had just recovered from local storage.
Timestamp: seconds after Damian shoved me.
I almost ignored it.
We had already heard Eleanor screaming.
Then I listened again.
Background noise.
Guests.
Security radios.
Damian.
My own voice.
And under everything—
Eleanor speaking quietly into her phone.
“Move the girl from Agnes to Vale.”
A pause.
Then:
“No, not Morgan yet.”
Another pause.
“If Hart appears, use the Ross identity.”
My heart hammered.
Ross identity.
The alias used at Morgan Pediatric.
But then one more line.
Almost inaudible.
“Keep Voss at Saint Jerome until I call.”
I looked at Reed.
“Saint Jerome.”
He searched.
Three possibilities.
Church.
School.
Abandoned monastery.
The monastery was owned by a Blackwood subsidiary.
We went.
Police entered just before sunset.
Inside a lower office, they found medical supplies.
A cot.
Burned documents.
And Evelyn.
Alive.
Her wrists bound.
Nathaniel Voss was gone.
She had followed the courier.
He caught her.
But she had hidden the bracelet before entering.
“Where?” I asked.
She managed a weak smile.
“Somewhere Eleanor would never look.”
The chapel.
Beneath a candle stand dedicated to Saint Lucia.
Reed retrieved it.
The archived sample linked to the barcode still existed in offsite storage.
Voss had taken the wrong vial.
Evelyn had changed the retrieval number before following him.
For the first time, we were ahead.
DNA testing began immediately.
But Saint Jerome gave us something even better.
A ledger.
Nathaniel Voss had kept handwritten notes.
Dates.
Payments.
Patient aliases.
And one line from the night Lila was born:
03/18 - E.B. orders separation. C.B. objects. D.B. unaware final destination. Hart paid 50K.
C.B.
Charles Blackwood.
He had objected from Switzerland?
No.
Charles had been at the hospital.
Another lie.
I called him.
“Were you there the night I gave birth?”
Silence.
“Charles.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Eleanor called me.”
“You saw Lila?”
“Yes.”
“And you let them take her.”
“I tried to stop it.”
“Not hard enough.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
His voice broke.
“Because Eleanor showed me a recording.”
“What recording?”
“You.”
My stomach tightened.
“What about me?”
“From before you married Damian.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“She claimed you married him to gain access to the trust.”
“That’s absurd.”
“I know that now.”
“What recording?”
Charles hesitated.
Then said:
“You were speaking to Katherine Sloan.”
My former attorney.
And suddenly the betrayal went back further than I realized.
Long before Lila.
Long before Noah.
May you like
Before the wedding.
Katherine had been building Eleanor’s case against me for years.
