Chapter 8 - THE SECOND CHILD
Nobody spoke.
I stared at Victoria.
“What did you say?”
She opened the folder again.
Inside was a hospital photograph.
Two newborn babies lay side by side.
One wore a white blanket.
The other wore blue.
I looked at the date.
The day Sophia died.
“Twins?”
Victoria nodded.
“Sophia gave birth to two children. Lyla was the first. The other baby was taken from the hospital before the official records were completed.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“You knew?”
She shook her head.
“I only knew about Lyla.”
“Then where is the other child?”
Victoria looked toward Richard's abandoned vehicle.
“I don't know.”
I grabbed her arm.
“You expect me to believe that?”
She pulled away.
“Your father paid someone to move the second baby. Richard handled the arrangements. The child was placed with a family under a different identity.”
“Which family?”
“I never found out.”
I looked down at the photograph.
Two babies.
One daughter I had just discovered.
Another child somewhere in the world who might never know who they were.
Lyla approached me.
“Do I have a brother?”
I knelt beside her.
“Maybe.”
She considered that.
“Can we find him?”
I looked at Evelyn.
“Yes,” I said. “We can.”
The next morning, I called an emergency meeting of the Whitmore board.
I had not entered that building on my own feet in four years.
Now I walked through the glass entrance with Marcus beside me.
Every employee stopped.
Some stared.
Others whispered.
News of my recovery had already spread.
But I wasn't there to celebrate.
I was there to expose the people who had stolen my family.
The boardroom was full.
Richard's seat was empty.
Victoria sat at the far end.
I placed the gold watch on the table.
“This company has spent twenty years hiding a criminal conspiracy.”
Several executives exchanged nervous glances.
I continued.
“Someone arranged my sister's disappearance. Someone covered up the death of Sophia Bennett. Someone sabotaged my rehabilitation and attempted to murder me.”
A director stood.
“Charles, these are serious accusations.”
“I know.”
I pressed a button.
The recordings played.
My father's voice.
Victoria's voice.
Richard's voice.
The room went silent.
Then the board secretary stood.
“Mr. Whitmore, there is another matter.”
She placed a sealed envelope before me.
It had arrived that morning.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
Inside was a photograph of a young man standing outside a military academy.
On the back were four words.
Your son is alive.
I stared at the image.
Lyla's brother.
The second child.
But the photograph was recent.
And beneath it was a second message.
Ask Victoria who adopted him.
I slowly turned toward my aunt.
Her face had lost all color.
“Who adopted him?”
She stared at the photograph.
Then she whispered a name.
“Richard.”
The room erupted.
I looked at her.
“You told me he was dead.”
“I thought he was.”
“Where is he now?”
Victoria began shaking.
“Richard's wife raised him. She never knew the truth.”
I stared at the photograph.
The young man looked about twenty years old.
He had dark hair, strong features, and the same eyes as Sophia.
“What's his name?”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“Daniel Ashford.”
The name struck me.
Daniel.
Richard's son.
My son.
The child I had never known existed had grown up in the house of the man who had tried to destroy my family.
Before I could speak, my phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered.
A young male voice came through.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Daniel Ashford.”
I stood motionless.
“Who gave you this number?”
“Your sister.”
“Evelyn?”
“No. The other one.”
I looked toward Victoria.
Daniel continued.
“I'm calling because I found something in my father's safe.”
“What?”
A pause.
Then he said:
“An adoption document. It says my biological father is Charles Whitmore.”
I closed my eyes.
For twenty years, I had believed my family was gone.
Now I had discovered two children.
And both had been taken from me.
Daniel's voice dropped.
“But there's something else.”
“What?”
“My father left a message.”
I waited.
May you like
Daniel whispered:
“He said if I ever found you, I should never let you trust my mother.”
