Chapter 2 - THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST
By midnight, the lake house had been transformed into an impenetrable fortress. Black SUVs idled at the ends of the driveway, and heavily armed men in plainclothes patrolled the tree line.
Inside, the atmosphere was completely different. The private medical team had gently bathed the twins, treated the small cuts on their feet, and dressed them in proper, warm pajamas rushed in from town. Now, they were fast asleep in the massive master bedroom, curled together in the center of the king-sized mattress, holding hands even in their sleep.
Daniel stood in the doorway, a glass of untouched scotch in his hand, watching their chests rise and fall.
Marcus, a broad-shouldered man with a scar over his left eyebrow and a mind like a steel trap, approached quietly from the hallway.
“The perimeter is secure, boss,” Marcus whispered. “I ran the DNA test using the rapid-cycle kit the medical team brought. We’ll have absolute confirmation in four hours, but... looking at them, I don't think you need a machine to tell you the truth.”
“They're mine, Marcus,” Daniel said softly. “They are Claire’s, and they are mine. I need to know how this happened. I need to know how my wife was pregnant, gave birth, and died without me knowing.”
“I’ve already started pulling the threads,” Marcus said, handing Daniel an iPad glowing with digital files. “When your mother insisted on moving Claire to the Blackwood Alpine Clinic during her ‘illness,’ you were in London. The clinic’s records state Claire was suffering from a rare, aggressive autoimmune disorder.”
“I remember,” Daniel said bitterly. “They said any stress, any outside contact, could be fatal. I stayed away because Dr. Aris told me my presence was causing her heart rate to spike dangerously. I thought I was saving her life.”
“Dr. Aris is on your mother’s direct payroll,” Marcus stated flatly. “I looked into his offshore accounts. He received a deposit of four million dollars the week Claire passed away. Furthermore, Blackwood Clinic isn't an immunology center. It’s an isolated, discreet maternity and psychiatric facility for the ultra-wealthy. It’s where billionaires send problems to disappear.”
Daniel’s grip on the glass tightened until his knuckles turned white.
“Margaret isolated her,” Daniel deduced, his voice dropping to a dangerous, lethal register. “Claire was pregnant. Margaret hated her—she always thought Claire was a gold-digger who polluted the Whitmore bloodline. If Claire had an heir, let alone two, her position in the family would have been cemented forever.”
“So Margaret convinced her she was sick,” Marcus continued, nodding grimly. “Moved her to the clinic, kept her heavily sedated, and induced labor in secret. But the question is: how did the girls survive? If Margaret wanted them gone, they should never have made it out of that clinic.”
Daniel thought of the note. Mommy Helen told us not to lose it.
“Who is Helen?” Daniel asked.
Marcus tapped the iPad screen, bringing up a personnel file. “Helen Vance. No relation to me. She was a senior neonatal nurse at Blackwood. She vanished two years ago, right around the time Claire was pronounced dead. Her bank accounts have been dead since. But I ran facial recognition on traffic cameras near this lake house over the past 48 hours.”
Marcus swiped to a grainy photograph of a woman in a heavy coat, limping away from the lake house property on Friday afternoon, clutching her side.
“She brought them here,” Daniel realized. “Why now? Why wait two years?”
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“Because Margaret’s people finally found her,” Marcus said. “We intercepted police chatter in Chicago from Thursday night. A woman matching Helen’s description narrowly escaped a fire in a subsidized apartment building. Arson. She knew she was compromised. She knew the girls were no longer safe with her, so she brought them to the one place she knew you would visit this weekend—the lake house, for the anniversary of Claire’s death.”
Daniel set his glass down. “Find Helen. Before my mother’s fixers do. Expend every resource, Marcus. Use the jets, use the satellites. Bring her to me.”
