Chapter 8
Daniel stared at Rose.
“That’s impossible.”
Rose’s face had gone pale.
“Helen heard Claire’s voice the night of the fire.”
“Claire had been dead for months.”
“I know.”
“Then Helen was confused.”
“She remembered a woman entering the house before the flames spread. She wore Claire’s coat. She used Claire’s name.”
“Anyone could wear a coat.”
“Not anyone knew the lullaby.”
Daniel’s chest tightened.
“What lullaby?”
Rose looked at the twins.
“The one Claire wrote for the children.”
Ivy began humming.
A soft, uneven melody.
Daniel recognized it.
Claire used to hum it during her final months.
When he asked where it came from, she said she had dreamed it.
Ivy stopped.
“Mommy Helen sings.”
Rose nodded slowly.
“Claire taught it to Helen.”
Daniel’s mind raced.
“Who else knew it?”
“Beatrice.”
The name fell between them.
Beatrice had managed Claire’s home.
Claire’s clothes.
Claire’s voice recordings.
Claire’s private letters.
Beatrice could have worn the coat.
Used the lullaby.
Pretended to be Claire in the dark.
Daniel looked toward the mausoleum door.
“Beatrice took your daughter.”
Rose’s grief became fury.
“She worked for Margaret.”
“Maybe not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Margaret ordered the twins taken tonight. But she didn’t know where your daughter was.”
“Then Beatrice kept her for herself?”
“Or for someone else.”
Police escorted them out.
Reporters had already begun gathering beyond the cemetery gates.
News of Margaret’s arrest would spread within minutes.
Daniel shielded Ivy and Skye beneath his coat.
He refused to let cameras capture their faces.
A state police captain approached.
“We need statements.”
“The girls need medical care.”
“We can arrange that.”
“Private care.”
The captain looked irritated.
Daniel did not care.
Rose stepped forward.
“I know a safe location.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Can I trust you?”
Pain crossed her face.
“That is what Claire asked you to do.”
He wanted to trust Claire’s message.
But Claire had hidden the twins.
Beatrice had earned Claire’s trust and betrayed it.
Ethan had helped and harmed them.
Every truth came wrapped in another lie.
“I trust what you do next,” Daniel said.
Rose accepted that.
They traveled in a police convoy to an isolated rehabilitation center owned by a Catholic charity.
Helen was there.
Daniel entered her room carrying Ivy.
Skye walked beside him, holding Rose’s hand.
Helen lay propped against white pillows.
A bandage circled her head.
Bruises covered her face.
When the twins saw her, they screamed.
“Mommy!”
They climbed onto the bed.
Helen cried as she held them.
“My babies.”
Daniel turned away.
He had imagined this reunion.
But he had not expected jealousy.
The girls called him Daddy.
Yet Helen was the center of their world.
She had fed them.
Protected them.
Loved them while Daniel lived without knowing they existed.
He was grateful.
And ashamed of the small, selfish pain inside him.
Helen looked at him over the girls’ heads.
“You found them.”
“They found me.”
“Claire always said they would.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
Helen closed her eyes.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“After they were born. I called your office. Beatrice answered.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“What did she say?”
“She said you knew everything and wanted nothing to do with them.”
“That was a lie.”
“I know that now.”
“You believed her?”
“She played a recording.”
Daniel felt cold.
“What recording?”
“Your voice saying, ‘The children are not mine. Make sure they disappear.’”
“I never said that.”
“Not as one sentence.”
Helen looked ashamed.
“Later, Rose discovered it was edited from business calls.”
Beatrice had access to recordings of Daniel’s meetings.
She had built a false rejection in his voice.
“Why didn’t you come to the house?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Three months after Claire died.”
Daniel searched his memory.
He had barely functioned after Claire’s funeral.
Margaret managed his schedule.
Beatrice managed the house.
“I never saw you.”
“Margaret did.”
Helen’s face tightened.
“She met me at the gate. She showed me photographs of men watching the twins. She said if I returned, they would die.”
Daniel sat down.
Every answer made his failure larger.
“I should have known.”
“How?” Helen asked. “They built a wall around you.”
“I let them.”
“You were grieving.”
“So were you.”
Helen touched Ivy’s hair.
“I had them.”
Daniel looked at the twins.
“Yes.”
“And now they have you.”
Skye crawled into Daniel’s lap.
As if she sensed his fear.
He wrapped one arm around her.
“Tell me about Beatrice.”
Helen’s expression became cautious.
“She was devoted to Claire.”
“She helped kidnap the twins.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“She told the men to take them.”
Rose stood near the window.
“Beatrice also took my daughter.”
Helen looked at her sharply.
“You don’t know that.”
“She knew the lullaby.”
“So did Claire.”
“Claire was dead.”
Helen’s eyes filled with confusion.
“I heard her.”
“You heard Beatrice pretending to be her.”
“No.”
Helen shook her head.
“I saw her face.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“You saw Claire?”
“In the firelight.”
“She was dead.”
“I know what I saw.”
Rose’s voice rose.
“You were injured.”
“I was awake.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought I was losing my mind!”
The twins began crying.
Daniel lifted Skye and pulled Ivy close.
“Stop.”
Both women fell silent.
He looked at Helen.
“Describe the woman.”
“She had Claire’s face. Claire’s hair. Claire’s coat.”
“Did she speak?”
“She said, ‘Rose can’t keep the child.’”
Rose gripped the windowsill.
“Why?”
“She said the girl belonged to the Bellamys.”
Daniel thought of wealth.
Inheritance.
Bloodlines.
But Margaret had not taken the child.
Someone else believed the Bellamy family had a claim.
Claire’s mother was still alive.
Evelyn Bellamy.
She had lived in a private care facility in Switzerland for seven years.
Or Daniel had been told she did.
“Where is Claire’s mother?” he asked.
Rose looked at him.
“Geneva.”
“Have you seen her?”
“Not since Claire was a teenager.”
“Who manages her affairs?”
Rose’s expression changed.
“Beatrice.”
Daniel stood.
He called Marcus.
“Find Evelyn Bellamy.”
“Claire’s mother?”
“Verify where she is physically. Not records. Not payments. Her.”
Marcus began typing.
“This may take—”
“Now.”
Daniel hung up.
Helen watched him.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The night of the fire, the woman carried Rose’s daughter out.”
“You saw the child alive?”
“Yes.”
Rose covered her mouth.
Helen continued.
“She called her by another name.”
“What name?” Rose asked.
Helen looked directly at her.
“Claire.”
Rose began to cry.
Her daughter had been named Lily.
Someone had renamed her after the dead sister who could never claim her.
Daniel’s phone rang ten minutes later.
Marcus sounded shaken.
“Evelyn Bellamy is not in Switzerland.”
“Where is she?”
“She was discharged six years ago.”
“By whom?”
“Beatrice Sloan.”
“Where did they go?”
“The flight records show Chicago.”
Daniel looked toward the dark window.
“Keep going.”
“I found property purchased through a Bellamy shell company. A private estate outside Rockford.”
“Send me the address.”
“Daniel, there’s more.”
“What?”
“Security cameras at the estate captured a woman matching Beatrice entering yesterday.”
“With a child?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How old?”
“Four or five.”
Rose gripped Daniel’s arm.
“Is it Lily?”
“I don’t know.”
“Show me.”
Marcus sent a still image.
The quality was poor.
A little girl climbed from a car beside Beatrice.
She had dark hair.
A pale coat.
And around her neck hung a silver medallion marked with the letter C.
Rose sobbed.
“That’s her.”
Daniel studied the image.
The girl was alive.
Beatrice had hidden her at Evelyn Bellamy’s estate.
“Call the police,” Helen said.
Daniel looked at the picture.
“No.”
Everyone stared at him.
“Margaret has people in local departments,” he continued. “Beatrice knew exactly when the clinic would be unprotected. Someone is still feeding her information.”
Rose’s eyes hardened.
“Then we go ourselves.”
Daniel looked at Helen.
“You stay with the twins.”
Ivy immediately grabbed his arm.
“No leave.”
“I have to help Rose find Lily.”
“Bad house?”
“Maybe.”
Skye took off the medallion and pressed it into Daniel’s hand again.
“For brave.”
This time, he accepted it.
He opened the hidden compartment.
The real chip was still beneath his belt.
But the medallion itself might open more than a bank account.
“Claire gave one medallion to the twins,” he said.
Rose looked at the image on his phone.
“And Beatrice gave one to Lily.”
“Claire claimed hers was one of a kind.”
Helen shook her head.
“There were three.”
Daniel turned to her.
“How do you know?”
“Claire showed them to me. One for each branch of the Bellamy family.”
“Claire.”
“Rose.”
“And?”
Helen looked toward the twins.
“The third belonged to their mother.”
Daniel frowned.
“Claire was their biological mother.”
“No,” Helen said softly. “Claire supplied the embryos, but the Bellamy trust used an older definition.”
Rose understood first.
“The woman who gave birth.”
“Helen,” Daniel whispered.
Helen reached beneath her hospital gown and pulled a chain from around her neck.
A third silver medallion rested against her chest.
Marked with the letter H.
She opened it.
Inside was another chip.
“Claire told me never to give this to Margaret,” Helen said.
“Why?”
“Because the chips do not open an account.”
“What do they open?”
May you like
Helen looked at Daniel.
“A vault beneath Evelyn Bellamy’s estate.”
