Chapter 5 - THE MAN FROM MY PAST
I stared at Daniel's message until the letters blurred.
Graham saw my expression.
“Daniel?”
I nodded.
“What did he say?”
I handed him the phone.
He read both messages.
Then he looked at me.
“Don't answer.”
I pulled the phone back.
“Why?”
“Because whoever has been manipulating these records knows exactly who can reach you emotionally.”
“You think Daniel is involved?”
“I don't know.”
“That seems to be everyone's favorite answer.”
Graham didn't argue.
Instead, he said, “But I know what I would do.”
“What?”
“Verify everything before trusting anyone.”
The old me would have found that reassuring.
The woman I was becoming found it infuriating.
“I spent seven years with Daniel.”
“I know.”
“I trusted him.”
“I know.”
“His mother broke us apart.”
Graham's eyes narrowed.
“What exactly did she say?”
I told him.
About the coffee cake.
About her asking me to think about what Daniel would lose.
About the way Daniel never fought for me afterward.
Graham listened.
Then he asked, “Did Daniel know about your diagnosis?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever see your medical records?”
“I don't remember.”
Graham went quiet.
I hated that silence.
“Say it.”
“Your diagnosis may have been manipulated.”
“And?”
“And Daniel's mother knew you couldn't have children.”
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“But it gives us a question.”
We didn't answer Daniel.
Instead, we went to Unit 417.
The storage facility was almost empty.
Graham's security team searched the surrounding buildings while we entered the damaged unit.
Inside were old boxes.
Business records.
Shipping manifests.
Photographs.
Nothing looked valuable.
Then I saw a small wooden jewelry box.
It was mine.
Or rather, it looked exactly like the jewelry box my mother had kept when I was a child.
I opened it.
Inside was a silver bracelet.
I recognized it immediately.
“My mother wore this every Sunday.”
Graham picked it up.
A tiny clasp was engraved with two letters.
C.W.
His father.
I looked underneath.
There was a narrow compartment.
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
Ask why Claire's first pregnancy was never recorded.
I stopped breathing.
“First pregnancy?”
Graham stared at the paper.
“I don't understand.”
Neither did I.
I had never been pregnant.
At least, I had never known I was.
Then I remembered something.
A hospital visit when I was twenty-four.
Severe abdominal pain.
The doctor had said it was a ruptured ovarian cyst.
I had forgotten about it.
Or perhaps I had trained myself to forget.
Graham looked at me.
“Claire, what happened that night?”
“I don't know.”
“You must remember something.”
“I remember waking up.”
“What else?”
I closed my eyes.
A nurse.
A blue curtain.
Someone saying, “Don't tell her yet.”
My heart began pounding.
Then a memory surfaced.
A silver watch.
A man's hand resting on the hospital chart.
I opened my eyes.
“Your father.”
Graham froze.
“What?”
“I saw a man wearing a silver watch.”
His face went pale.
“My father wore one.”
We searched the remaining boxes.
At the bottom of an old crate, we found a hospital bracelet.
My name.
My birth date.
A date from nine years ago.
And beside it:
PATIENT: CLAIRE BENNETT.
I stared at it.
I had been twenty-four.
“Why would my bracelet be here?”
Graham didn't answer.
Then we heard footsteps outside.
Not a mysterious knock.
Not a phone call.
Actual footsteps.
Two men entered the unit.
One was Victor Hale.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Alive.
The other was Daniel.
My heart stopped.
Daniel looked at me.
“Claire.”
Graham stepped in front of me.
Daniel raised both hands.
“I didn't come here to hurt her.”
“You shouldn't have come at all,” Graham said.
Daniel's eyes remained on me.
“I told you I knew why you were diagnosed.”
“Then tell me.”
He swallowed.
“My mother worked for Dr. Vale.”
The room went silent.
“I found out after she died.”
“Found out what?”
“That your diagnosis was changed.”
Graham's voice was ice.
“Changed by whom?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Your father.”
I felt as though the floor disappeared.
“No.”
Daniel nodded.
“He altered the records after a medical procedure.”
“What procedure?”
Daniel looked directly at my stomach.
“The one that happened when you were twenty-four.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Was I pregnant?”
He didn't answer.
Victor did.
“Yes.”
My hand went to my stomach.
“How?”
Victor looked at Graham.
“Because your father's medical program wasn't about infertility.”
“What was it about?” I demanded.
Victor's face hardened.
“Genetic selection.”
Graham stepped forward.
“What did my father do to Claire?”
Victor's answer was quiet.
“He tried to make sure she would never have a child naturally.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“And he failed.”
Victor looked at me.
“Because the procedure didn't destroy your fertility.”
He pointed toward the ultrasound photograph in my hand.
“It only delayed the consequences.”
May you like
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Claire, those twins may be the reason your husband's father was killed.”
