Chapter 2 - The Number on the Silver Card
For three seconds, I forgot the babies.
I forgot the rain.
I forgot the headlights coming closer.
All I heard was one sentence.
I’m the father she told you never existed.
I stared at Ethan Grant.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish this was the place I could prove it.”
“My dad left before I was born.”
“That’s what Rachel told you?”
“She said he didn’t want us.”
His face twisted.
Not anger at me.
Pain.
“I never knew you existed.”
The SUV doors opened.
Men shouted.
I crouched automatically over the baby in pink.
Ethan reached inside his jacket again.
This time he did pull a gun.
My whole body went rigid.
“Stay behind the column.”
“I’m not standing near a gun.”
“Fair.”
A man appeared at the mouth of the alley.
Black coat.
Hands visible.
“Mr. Grant!”
Ethan did not lower the weapon.
“Name.”
The man stopped.
“Marco Bell. Your security chief. You hired me thirteen years ago after I broke your nose in a boxing gym.”
Ethan’s gun lowered an inch.
“Who’s with you?”
“Four of ours. Two paramedics. Nora’s three minutes behind.”
Ethan exhaled.
“Take the perimeter.”
Marco’s eyes found me.
Then the baby.
Something like relief crossed his face.
“So that’s Harper.”
I backed away.
“No.”
Marco stopped.
“Good instinct.”
“Everybody knows my name.”
“Unfortunately.”
“I want the police.”
“They’re coming.”
Ethan looked at Marco.
“Real police.”
Marco frowned.
“I know what you meant.”
Within minutes the alley changed.
Paramedics.
Portable lights.
Blankets.
Police tape.
The twins were checked first.
I insisted.
The baby in pink was cold but stable.
The one Ethan held had a low temperature and needed oxygen.
When a paramedic reached for the pink bundle, my arms would not let go.
“I’ve got her,” the woman said gently.
“I know.”
“You can hand her to me.”
I looked down.
The baby had stopped screaming.
Her eyes were closed.
Her fist still held my sleeve.
“Harper.”
A woman’s voice.
Same as the phone.
I looked up.
She was maybe thirty-five, tall, Black, dressed in dark trousers and a raincoat over hospital scrubs.
“Nora Fields.”
“You knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
She glanced toward Ethan as paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher.
“That conversation belongs somewhere warmer.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“You sound like him.”
“I don’t know him.”
“Also fair.”
I finally let the paramedic take the baby.
The emptiness in my arms felt immediate.
Wrong.
Nora noticed.
“She’s going to Mercy Children’s. Her sister too.”
“Sister?”
“Twins.”
“I know.”
“Names are Rose and Lucy.”
I repeated them silently.
Rose.
Lucy.
Ethan’s stretcher rolled past.
His eyes opened.
“Harper.”
I stepped closer despite myself.
“You need to tell me the truth.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“If I wake up.”
I hated him for saying it.
“Don’t say that.”
His mouth moved.
Almost a smile.
“There she is.”
“What?”
“Rachel.”
The ambulance doors shut.
My mother’s name punched through me again.
Nora guided me toward an SUV.
I pulled away.
“I’m not getting in.”
“Good.”
She took out her phone.
Called someone.
“Chicago PD youth officer to our location, please. Harper wants official transport.”
I stared.
“You’re actually doing it?”
“You said no.”
“So?”
“So no is a complete answer.”
That sentence confused me more than anything.
Twenty minutes later, Officer Elena Ruiz drove me to Mercy Children’s while Nora followed.
A social worker met us.
Nobody let Ethan’s security take custody of me.
Nobody forced me anywhere.
I liked Nora a little for that.
Then Aunt Denise arrived.
Her hair was dry.
That made me angry.
I had been missing for hours in freezing rain and she had somehow remained perfectly dry.
“Harper!”
She hugged me too hard.
I stood still.
“Where were you?”
“Walking home.”
“You know better.”
“The bus card was empty.”
She looked away.
Nora noticed.
“Ms. Miller?”
“Yes?”
“Can we speak privately?”
Denise’s face changed when she saw Nora.
Recognition.
Tiny.
But real.
I saw it.
“You know her,” I said.
Denise looked at me.
“No.”
“You do.”
“No, Harper.”
Nora went still.
Interesting.
Officer Ruiz asked Denise for identification.
While they spoke, I moved toward the nursery window.
Rose and Lucy lay beneath warming blankets.
Three weeks old.
Tiny faces.
Tiny fists.
Alive.
A hand touched the glass beside mine.
Marco.
I stepped away.
He kept distance.
“Ethan’s in surgery.”
I swallowed.
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
“Is he going to die?”
“I’ve learned not to predict that man.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
We stared at the twins.
“Are they really his?”
“Yes.”
“Their mother?”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“Died after childbirth.”
“That’s why he had them?”
“He had just moved them from a secure medical house.”
“Why?”
“Someone tried to take them.”
My skin went cold.
“Who?”
“We’re still figuring that out.”
“Why would someone take babies?”
Marco looked toward the reflection in the glass.
“Because Ethan has enemies.”
That sounded like a movie answer.
“Enemies don’t kidnap newborns.”
“His do.”
I turned.
“Is he actually a criminal?”
Marco did not lie.
“Yes.”
I hated that.
Because some part of me had already wanted Ethan to be telling the truth about being my father.
A father was better than none.
A criminal father was still a father.
That was unfair.
Then Nora came back.
Denise stayed behind with Officer Ruiz.
Nora’s expression was different.
“Harper, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Did your aunt ever tell you how your mother died?”
“Car accident.”
“What year?”
“2016.”
Nora looked at Marco.
They both went quiet.
“What?”
Nora crouched so we were eye level.
“There was no car accident.”
I stopped breathing.
“What are you saying?”
“Your mother is alive.”
Again.
“No.”
“She has been alive this entire time.”
“Then where is she?”
Nora’s face tightened.
“We don’t know.”
I laughed.
It sounded awful.
“You all know everything except where my mother is?”
“We knew where she was until forty-eight hours ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
“She disappeared.”
I turned toward Denise.
She was arguing with Officer Ruiz.
“You knew?”
Denise’s face collapsed.
“Harper—”
“You knew she was alive?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I was protecting you.”
There it was.
The adult sentence that always came before a terrible truth.
I backed away.
“From who?”
Denise looked toward the nursery.
Then toward surgery.
“From Ethan.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
Nora said quietly:
“Denise, be very careful.”
Denise ignored her.
She looked at me.
“Your mother ran from him for a reason.”
I looked at Ethan’s blood still dried on my sleeve.
Then at two newborn girls behind the glass.
“What reason?”
May you like
Denise whispered:
“Because someone inside Ethan Grant’s family tried to kill you before you were born.”
