Chapter 7 - THE CHILD WHO WASN'T HISEthan ran upstairs.
Victoria followed.
The nursery door was open.
The crib was empty.
Ethan stopped breathing.
“No.”
He searched the room.
The baby was gone.
The window was locked.
The door was untouched.
The security cameras showed nothing.
Then he saw a white bracelet lying on the floor.
Number 17.
Victoria began sobbing.
“I didn't take him.”
Ethan turned.
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“You knew this was coming.”
“I knew they wanted him.”
“Why?”
Victoria whispered:
“Because he isn't just your son.”
Ethan stared.
“What does that mean?”
“He is the last living connection to the original family.”
“What family?”
Victoria looked at the empty crib.
“The family your grandfather destroyed.”
The FBI discovered a hidden tunnel beneath the nursery.
It led outside the property.
Ethan followed.
The tunnel ended near an abandoned farmhouse.
Inside was a crib.
A blanket.
A bottle.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed Rebecca holding a baby.
Ethan recognized the face.
It was his son.
But the photograph was twenty-four years old.
Impossible.
He dropped it.
Brooks picked it up.
“This isn't your son.”
Ethan stared.
Brooks pointed to the date.
“Look at the baby.”
Then he showed Ethan another photograph.
Same face.
Same birthmark.
Same eyes.
Ethan's entire body went cold.
“This is impossible.”
Brooks whispered:
“Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless the child has a twin.”
Victoria stepped into the room.
“No.”
Ethan turned.
She looked terrified.
“There was only one baby.”
“Where did you get him?”
Victoria hesitated.
“From a private clinic.”
“Whose clinic?”
She whispered:
“Your family's.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Everything was falling apart.
The baby wasn't stolen.
He had been transferred.
Someone had changed his records.
And Victoria had been part of it.
Then a phone rang.
Maria's.
Ethan answered.
A child's voice whispered:
“Daddy?”
Ethan froze.
His son.
Alive.
Then another voice came through.
A woman.
May you like
“Bring Victoria.”
The call ended.
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