Chapter 2 - THREE BIRTH CERTIFICATES
Nathan canceled the meeting.
Then he canceled everything else.
His assistant, Rebecca Sloan, had worked for him for nine years and had witnessed Nathan close a $190 million acquisition while running a fever of 103.
She had never heard him say, “Clear my week.”
“Your week?” she repeated over the phone.
“Yes.”
“Nathan, you have Portland tomorrow, the board Thursday—”
“Cancel them.”
A pause.
“Are you all right?”
Nathan looked through the ICU glass.
Claire lay beneath white sheets surrounded by machines.
“No.”
It was the first honest answer he had given anyone all day.
He ended the call.
Behind him, Sophie was trying to feed crackers to Mr. Buttons.
Ellie watched every ICU door.
Hannah watched Nathan.
That bothered him.
Not because she was suspicious.
Because she seemed hopeful.
A hospital social worker named Laura Chen arrived twenty minutes later. She was gentle but firm, explaining that temporary emergency placement would be required if no legal guardian could be located.
The girls immediately panicked.
“No,” Ellie said.
Her arms locked around her sisters.
“We stay together.”
“We’ll do everything possible to keep you together,” Laura promised.
Nathan heard the qualification.
Possible.
He knew what that meant.
“What would it take for them to leave with me?”
Laura stared at him.
“Mr. Cole, we don’t know who you are to these children.”
“Neither do I.”
That answer did not help.
He lowered his voice.
“I knew their mother.”
“How well?”
Nathan looked toward Claire.
“Well enough that five years ago I was planning to ask her to marry me.”
Laura’s expression shifted.
Nathan had not intended to say it.
But once spoken, the memory returned with brutal clarity.
A restaurant reservation.
A ring in his coat pocket.
Claire texting him that afternoon.
We need to talk tonight.
Then she never came.
By morning, she was gone.
Her apartment had been emptied. Her phone disconnected. Her resignation from the architectural firm where they had met had already been submitted.
Nathan had searched for three months.
Then pride had done what heartbreak could not.
It convinced him to stop.
Laura pulled him back to the present.
“Do you believe you may be their father?”
Nathan looked at the girls.
“They’re five.”
“And when did your relationship with Ms. Dawson end?”
“Five years and eight months ago.”
Laura understood immediately.
“We’ll need a legal determination.”
“Do it.”
“It doesn’t happen instantly.”
“Then make it happen as quickly as legally possible.”
Nathan knew how that sounded.
Like a wealthy man ordering reality to move faster.
He rubbed a hand across his face.
“Sorry. Just tell me what you need.”
That seemed to surprise her.
“Identification. Background authorization. DNA samples if the court and medical team approve. And until then, the children remain under hospital supervision.”
Nathan nodded.
“I’m not leaving.”
Three hours later, Rebecca arrived carrying a laptop, a charger, two clean shirts, and the expression of a woman trying not to ask twenty questions.
She saw the girls.
Then she saw Nathan sitting on the floor while Sophie used his expensive briefcase as a table for crayons.
Rebecca stopped.
Nathan looked up.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to say your briefcase has never looked better.”
Sophie held up a purple crayon.
“He needs a unicorn sticker.”
Rebecca nodded solemnly.
“Obviously.”
Nathan almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Laura returned carrying a sealed envelope.
“We obtained records.”
Nathan stood.
Laura did not hand them over immediately.
“Ms. Dawson listed no father on the girls’ birth certificates.”
His stomach dropped.
“All three?”
“Yes.”
“They’re triplets?”
Laura nodded.
Nathan closed his eyes.
Of course.
The girls were not merely close in age.
They were the same age.
Five years old.
Born seven months after Claire vanished.
Laura continued.
“There’s something else.”
Nathan opened his eyes.
“The girls were born in Tacoma. Claire used her mother as emergency contact. There is no paternal information anywhere in the accessible records.”
“DNA.”
“The hospital legal team approved expedited testing because establishing a biological parent could affect emergency custody.”
“How long?”
“We may have preliminary results tomorrow.”
Tomorrow suddenly seemed impossibly far away.
Nathan returned to the girls.
Ellie had fallen asleep sitting upright.
Hannah leaned against her.
Sophie had curled beneath the blanket.
Nathan crouched.
Hannah opened her eyes.
“Are they taking us away?”
He hesitated.
Children remembered promises.
He would not make one he could not keep.
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re safe.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Nathan stared.
Claire.
That was pure Claire.
He sat beside her.
“I don’t want anyone to take you away.”
Hannah studied him.
“Okay.”
Then she rested her head against his arm.
Nathan did not move for nearly twenty minutes.
At 2:13 a.m., Claire’s doctor emerged.
Nathan stood immediately.
“She’s stable,” the physician said. “But there are complications. Severe pneumonia developed after an untreated respiratory infection. She also has a cardiac issue we’re evaluating.”
“Will she wake up?”
“We hope so.”
Hope.
Nathan hated words without measurable probabilities.
That night, he slept for forty minutes in a chair.
At 6:40 the next morning, his phone rang.
Laura.
She was standing twenty feet away.
Nathan answered anyway.
“The preliminary DNA results are back.”
His throat tightened.
Laura approached.
Nathan looked at the three sleeping children.
“Tell me.”
“The probability of paternity exceeds 99.9 percent.”
The corridor became completely silent to him.
Nathan stared at Sophie’s damaged rabbit.
Ellie’s tiny shoes.
Hannah’s hand curled beneath her cheek.
His daughters.
Five birthdays.
Five Christmas mornings.
First words.
First steps.
Fevers.
Nightmares.
Everything.
Gone.
Nathan pressed his fingers against his eyes.
Then anger arrived.
Not at the children.
Never them.
At Claire.
Why?
Why had she stolen five years from him?
Laura touched his arm.
“There’s another issue.”
Nathan looked up.
“What?”
“Someone filed an emergency custody petition thirty minutes ago.”
Nathan frowned.
“Who?”
“A man named Charles Cole.”
Nathan’s blood turned cold.
“My father.”
Laura nodded.
“He claims Claire Dawson is an unstable parent and that you are legally and emotionally unfit to assume immediate custody.”
Nathan stared at her.
“My father didn’t know these girls existed.”
“That’s not all.”
Laura handed him a photocopied document attached to the petition.
It was dated five years earlier.
Nathan recognized Claire’s signature.
Above it were six words:
I fear Nathan Cole’s family.
May you like
And suddenly Nathan knew the blue box contained more than old photographs.
It contained the reason Claire had run.
