Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN AT GATE 24
The first thing I saw was my own face staring back at me from a five-year-old boy.
The second thing I saw was Evelyn.
I had spent six years convincing myself she had abandoned me.
Then I found her asleep on an airport floor with two children who looked exactly like me.
My phone was still pressed against my ear when I stopped walking.
“Marcus?” my CFO, Daniel Price, said. “Are you still there?”
I couldn't answer.
Across the terminal, Evelyn stirred.
One of the boys lifted his head from her lap.
He had dark, wavy hair.
My hair.
His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but when he looked directly at me, something inside my chest seemed to crack.
The second boy woke too.
They were identical except for a tiny scar beneath one eyebrow.
Twins.
My hands went cold.
“Marcus?”
“I have to go.”
I ended the call.
Evelyn looked up.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then her face went white.
“Marcus.”
I walked toward her.
She immediately pulled both boys closer.
“Don't.”
That single word stopped me.
“Evelyn, what are you doing here?”
She looked toward the airport entrance.
Then toward the security checkpoint.
Then back at me.
She wasn't surprised to see me.
She was terrified.
“Your mother told me you were dead.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Her lips trembled.
“She said you died six years ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did she tell you about me?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“She said you never came back from the accident.”
“What accident?”
Her eyes filled with confusion.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
A boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.
Passengers moved around us, completely unaware that my entire understanding of the last six years had just collapsed.
I crouched slowly.
The boy nearest me watched with enormous brown eyes.
“What are their names?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Ethan and Evan.”
My throat tightened.
“Last names?”
She didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
“Are they mine?”
Her eyes closed.
“Marcus…”
“Are they mine?”
A man's voice suddenly came from behind her.
“Evelyn, we need to leave.”
I turned.
A tall man in a gray coat stood several yards away.
He wasn't looking at me.
He was looking at the boys.
My instincts sharpened.
“Who is he?”
Evelyn stood quickly.
“Someone helping us.”
The man stepped closer.
“You need to come with me.”
“No,” I said.
He finally looked at me.
Recognition flashed across his face.
Then fear.
“Mr. Vance.”
I knew that look.
It wasn't the look of someone meeting a stranger.
It was the look of someone seeing a problem that was supposed to remain buried.
The man reached inside his coat.
I moved before I thought.
I grabbed Evelyn's arm and pulled her behind me.
Security officers immediately appeared at the end of the terminal.
The man froze.
His hand slowly came out of his coat.
He was holding a phone.
Not a gun.
But he had been ready for one.
“Marcus,” Evelyn whispered, “we have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because they know you're here.”
“Who?”
She looked at the twins.
Then at me.
“My mother-in-law.”
The words barely left her mouth before a child screamed.
A suitcase had fallen near the gate.
Everyone turned.
The gray-coated man used the distraction to disappear into the crowd.
I immediately called my security director.
“Find a private exit.”
“Sir?”
“Now.”
I took Evelyn's suitcase.
She tried to stop me.
“You don't understand.”
“No,” I said. “I don't. That's going to change.”
We moved through the terminal.
The boys stayed between us.
Ethan held my hand without realizing it.
I looked down.
His fingers fit inside mine perfectly.
A strange warmth passed through me.
Then my phone vibrated.
An email.
No sender name.
One attachment.
A scanned legal document.
I opened it.
My blood froze.
It was a six-year-old medical authorization form.
My name appeared at the bottom.
My signature appeared underneath it.
And beside the signature was a sentence:
PATERNAL CONSENT FOR EMERGENCY DELIVERY AND TEMPORARY PROTECTIVE CUSTODY.
I stared at Evelyn.
“You said I didn't know.”
“I thought you didn't.”
“I never signed this.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
“I never signed anything.”
She looked at the document.
Then she whispered:
“Then someone did.”
Before I could respond, another message appeared.
STOP LOOKING FOR THE BOYS.
A second message followed.
YOUR MOTHER KNOWS WHY.
I stared at those words for several seconds.
Then I looked at the twins.
Five years old.
My eyes.
My hair.
My blood.
And suddenly the biggest business deal of my career didn't matter anymore.
I called my attorney.
“Cancel Boston.”
“Marcus, we're minutes from the closing.”
“I don't care.”
“What's happening?”
I looked at Evelyn.
“Someone stole six years from me.”
May you like
I lowered my voice.
“And I'm going to find out who.”
