Chapter 9 - THE TRUTH THAT COULD DESTROY THEM
The genetic report lay on the conference table between Naomi and Julian.
Neither had touched it in twenty minutes.
Outside the federal building, reporters were gathering. Someone had leaked the story about Victor Hartwell's arrest, and the Hartwell name was suddenly appearing across every major news outlet.
A missing heir.
A falsified birth record.
A decades-old medical scandal.
And a billionaire whose wedding might never happen.
Naomi didn't care about the headlines.
She cared about the man sitting opposite her.
"Say something," she whispered.
Julian lifted his eyes.
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Something that makes this make sense."
He looked at the report.
"If the results are accurate, we have to accept what they mean."
"And if they're not?"
"Then we'll prove they're not."
His voice was steady, but his hands weren't.
Naomi had seen Julian negotiate multimillion-dollar deals without blinking. She had watched him face angry investors, hostile executives, and men who tried to intimidate him simply because they could.
She had never seen him look so helpless.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked.
"In the elevator."
"You were holding two coffees."
"One was for Marcus."
"You told me you didn't drink coffee."
"I lied."
Despite everything, she almost smiled.
"You remember what I said?"
"You told me the little boy I was visiting didn't need another billionaire buying him toys. He needed someone to explain why his mother was crying."
"And you said?"
"I asked you how I could help."
"You asked me whether I could help you understand."
Julian nodded.
Naomi looked down.
"That was the first time someone in your world listened to me without trying to manage me."
"I still listen to you."
"Then listen now. I need you to stop treating this like a problem you can solve with enough money, enough lawyers, or enough people working through the night."
He leaned forward.
"What do you need?"
"The truth. Even if it means losing everything."
He held her gaze.
"Then that's what we'll find."
An hour later, Margaret arrived with her attorney.
She looked smaller than she had at the estate, her shoulders bent beneath a dark wool coat. When she saw the genetic report, she closed her eyes.
"You knew," Naomi said.
Margaret sat down.
"I knew there had been a third infant."
"Who was the child?"
"Your mother's first child."
Naomi stared at her.
"My mother had another baby before me?"
"Yes. A little girl who died shortly after birth."
The room went silent.
Margaret explained that Elizabeth had given birth to a daughter several years before Naomi. The infant had been born prematurely and transferred to the same private medical facility where Margaret was being treated.
The official records stated that the baby died within hours.
But Elizabeth had never believed it.
"She told me she heard another infant crying after the doctor said her daughter was dead," Margaret said. "She begged to see the baby. They refused."
"Why didn't she report it?"
"She did. Victor arranged for the hospital to declare her emotionally unstable. The complaint was dismissed."
Naomi pressed a hand to her mouth.
Her mother had lost a child before losing her family.
And nobody had told her.
"Did my mother ever find out what happened to the baby?"
Margaret nodded.
"She believed the infant had been transferred under another name."
"Whose name?"
"That's what she was trying to discover when she was accused of stealing medication."
Julian leaned forward.
"Why would Victor switch the identities of the children?"
"Because the trust was not the only thing at stake," Margaret replied. "The original Hartwell inheritance depended on a legal chain of parentage. If Victor could make the legitimate heirs disappear from the records, he could redirect the money and control the family holdings."
"But why would that make Naomi and me siblings?" Julian asked.
Margaret looked at him.
"Because the report Victor showed you was incomplete."
She opened her handbag and removed a sealed envelope.
Inside was a letter from Richard Hartwell, dated two weeks before his death.
Margaret, I have finally obtained the original laboratory report. Victor did not switch one infant. He altered the records of all three children.
Julian read the sentence aloud.
Then he continued silently.
The original report had been completed by an independent laboratory in 1998. It showed that the three infants shared a biological connection, but the identities assigned to the samples had been altered before the results reached the hospital.
A handwritten note appeared beneath the report.
The child recorded as Jonah Bennett is not the child originally registered under that name. The child recorded as Julian Hartwell may not be Richard's biological son.
Julian stopped reading.
Naomi watched his face change.
"Julian?"
He placed the page on the table.
"My father may not have been my biological father."
Margaret nodded.
"Victor wanted control of the trust. But he also wanted to destroy Richard's claim to it. If Julian was not Richard's biological son, Victor could challenge the inheritance."
"Then why would he allow me to inherit?" Julian asked.
"Because the records were never formally corrected. Victor needed you to remain in the position long enough for him to access the trust."
Naomi looked at the documents.
"Who was my biological father?"
Margaret's eyes filled.
"I don't know."
"Who was the third child?"
"I don't know that either."
Naomi pushed back her chair.
"Then we still know nothing."
"We know where the original records are," Margaret said. "Your father-in-law's private physician kept copies."
Julian looked up.
"Dr. Samuel Price."
"Yes. He disappeared after the scandal. But Richard believed he was still alive."
Naomi stood.
"Then we find him."
Before anyone could respond, the conference room door opened.
Daniel Reeves entered with a uniformed officer.
"We have a development," he said.
Naomi's heart jumped.
"Elizabeth?"
"We found her."
"Where?"
"At a private residence outside Cambridge. She was released shortly after Victor's arrest."
Naomi nearly collapsed with relief.
"Is she hurt?"
"She's shaken, but physically unharmed."
"Take me to her."
Daniel hesitated.
"There's something else. She refused to speak to the officers until they agreed to bring you alone."
Julian stood.
"I'm coming with her."
Daniel shook his head.
"Elizabeth specifically requested Naomi."
Naomi looked at Julian.
He nodded reluctantly.
"Go. I'll be here."
The drive took twenty minutes.
Naomi sat in the back of the car, clutching the silver pendant her mother had left behind. She rehearsed what she would say, but every sentence sounded inadequate.
What did you say to the woman who had disappeared from your childhood, only to discover that she had been trying to protect you?
How did you explain seventeen years of unanswered questions?
When the car stopped, Naomi saw a small brick house surrounded by bare trees.
The front door opened before she reached the steps.
Elizabeth Bennett stood in the doorway.
For a moment, mother and daughter simply stared at each other.
Then Elizabeth covered her mouth.
"Oh, my baby."
Naomi crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around her.
Elizabeth held her so tightly that Naomi could barely breathe.
"I'm sorry," her mother whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Naomi buried her face against Elizabeth's shoulder.
"I thought you left me."
"I never wanted to leave you."
"Why didn't you come back?"
Elizabeth pulled away enough to look at her.
"Because every time I tried, someone threatened to take you away forever."
Naomi's eyes filled.
"Who?"
Elizabeth glanced toward the house.
Then she took Naomi's hand and led her inside.
On the kitchen table lay a folder, an old hospital bracelet, and a photograph of three newborn babies.
Elizabeth pointed to the smallest child.
"That's the baby they told me had died."
Naomi stared at the photograph.
"Do you know who she was?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Her name was Grace."
"Where is she now?"
Her mother looked at her with a grief so deep it seemed to have no end.
"That's what I've spent twenty-eight years trying to find out."
Naomi took a shaky breath.
"Mom, I need to ask you something. Did you know Julian before I met him?"
Elizabeth went completely still.
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Because the genetic reports suggest that we might be related."
Her mother slowly sat down.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she reached into the folder and removed a sealed document.
"I was hoping you'd never have to see this."
Naomi unfolded it.
It was a copy of an original birth record.
The mother's name had been redacted.
The father's name had not.
RICHARD HARTWELL.
Naomi stared at the page.
If the document was genuine, Richard Hartwell might have been her biological father.
Which meant Julian might truly be her brother.
But before she could speak, Elizabeth caught her hand.
"There's something you need to understand about that record."
Naomi looked up.
"Your father didn't sign it."
She turned the page.
A second signature appeared beneath Richard's name.
Victor Hartwell.
And beside it, in handwriting she recognized from the old letters, were five words.
The child belongs to Grace.
Naomi's blood ran cold.
Her mother looked toward the window.
"Naomi, there's a reason Victor was willing to destroy his entire family to keep this secret."
"What reason?"
Elizabeth whispered the name she had been afraid to speak for nearly three decades.
"Because Grace wasn't the baby who died."
Then someone knocked three times on the front door.
May you like
Elizabeth's face went white.
"No," she whispered. "He found us again."
