Chapter 12 - THE PEOPLE ABOVE ELEANOR
The news broke by morning.
BLACKWOOD MATRIARCH DETAINED IN FEDERAL INVESTIGATION.
The media initially called it financial fraud.
Then rumors surfaced about medical misconduct.
Then missing records.
Then Halcyon.
David’s board demanded an emergency meeting.
He refused.
Blackwood Holdings stock was privately held, but its creditors panicked.
Banks called.
Partners withdrew.
Three directors resigned.
David remained beside Emily.
At noon, Rachel entered with bad news.
“Vance wants immunity.”
“No.”
“He’s offering names.”
“No.”
“David.”
“He drugged my wife.”
“He may know where your child went.”
David became silent.
Emily looked at Rachel.
“What does he want?”
“Protection. Reduced sentence. New identity if necessary.”
David laughed coldly.
“Necessary?”
Rachel sat.
“He says Eleanor is middle management.”
The room changed.
David looked at her.
“What?”
“He says Halcyon has a governing council.”
“Names?”
“He won’t give them without a deal.”
Emily said, “Give him one.”
David turned.
“No.”
“If he knows where our child is…”
“He should pay.”
“He can pay after we find our child.”
Rachel nodded.
“She’s right.”
David stared at the floor.
Then nodded once.
Vance talked for four hours.
He named doctors.
Attorneys.
Administrators.
Private adoption intermediaries.
Fixers.
But the governing council remained vague.
He claimed members used titles instead of names.
The Treasurer.
The Judge.
The Patron.
The Keeper.
One title mattered most.
The Steward.
“Who is the Steward?” Rachel asked.
Vance looked toward the camera in the interview room.
“I never met him.”
“Him?”
“I assume.”
“How are orders delivered?”
“Through coded memoranda.”
“Who received them?”
“Eleanor.”
“Was Eleanor on the council?”
“No.”
David watched behind one-way glass.
For thirty-six years, Eleanor had been the most powerful person in his world.
Now she looked smaller.
A servant to something older.
Rachel asked Vance about Emily’s first child.
He lowered his eyes.
“The child survived.”
David closed his eyes.
“Sex?”
“Male.”
Emily began crying quietly.
“Where was he sent?”
Vance swallowed.
“I don’t know the family.”
“You signed the transfer.”
“To an intermediary.”
“Name?”
“Lucas Bell.”
Rachel looked up.
L.B.
The initials in Eleanor’s false notebook.
Not Liam.
Lucas Bell.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Rachel continued.
“Did he keep records?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Vance’s voice dropped.
“In a storage unit.”
They found it the next day.
Inside were seventy-two boxes.
Birth records.
Payment logs.
Photographs.
Encrypted drives.
And placement files.
Emily sat beside David as Rachel’s team searched.
Hours passed.
Then Rachel emerged holding a folder.
She looked shaken.
“We found him.”
Emily could not stand.
David did.
Rachel placed the folder on the table.
Temporary designation:
Child E.R.B.-1.
Male.
Birth event recorded at approximately seven weeks gestation termination transfer.
Emily frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Rachel explained.
Halcyon had falsified Emily’s gestational records.
The pregnancy had continued after the alleged miscarriage.
Emily was kept sedated for nearly thirty-one hours, during which Vance performed procedures intended to create symptoms of pregnancy loss.
But no baby could have been delivered at seven weeks.
David stared.
“So what was transferred?”
Rachel turned another page.
Biological material.
Embryonic custody.
Emily went still.
“They didn’t take a born baby.”
“No.”
David understood first.
“They took the pregnancy.”
Rachel nodded.
An experimental reproductive procedure.
Highly illegal.
Medically extraordinary.
But Halcyon had access to fertility laboratories and specialists.
Emily’s pregnancy had been ended, but living embryonic tissue had been transferred into an assisted reproduction program.
Months later, another woman carried the pregnancy.
Emily covered her mouth.
David whispered, “Our son was born to someone else.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he now?”
Rachel opened the final document.
Placement family:
Sealed by Steward authority.
No name.
Only an address code.
B-17.
David stared.
“What’s B-17?”
Vance knew.
When Rachel showed him, he refused to speak.
Then David entered the room.
Vance looked at him.
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because B-17 doesn’t belong to Eleanor.”
“Who does it belong to?”
May you like
Vance whispered:
“The Steward.”
