Chapter 6 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Missing
Arthur Vale was alive.
His photograph on the institute’s website had been taken recently. His hair was white, his shoulders narrower, but Daniel recognized the man who had once visited their family home every Christmas.
Vale Children’s Genetic Institute operated from a private campus outside Providence. Its website claimed the institute specialized in rare inherited diseases affecting children.
There was no mention of Saint Catherine.
No mention of Richard Whitmore.
No mention of the six infants.
Daniel called the number listed on the website.
A receptionist answered.
“I need to speak with Dr. Vale.”
“May I ask who is calling?”
“Daniel Whitmore.”
The line went silent.
Then disconnected.
Daniel called again.
The number no longer worked.
Emily watched him.
“He knows who you are.”
“He may know who Sophie is.”
Victoria approached quickly.
“You contacted him?”
Daniel held up the phone.
“You told me he disappeared.”
“He did.”
“He founded a medical institute using our family’s research money.”
Victoria looked at the website.
For the first time, she seemed genuinely surprised.
“I have never seen this.”
Brooke returned from the laboratory with a cotton bandage pressed against her arm.
“They are rushing the results.”
She noticed everyone staring at the tablet.
“What happened?”
Daniel explained.
Brooke read the institute’s list of research specialties.
Her finger stopped at one.
Familial restrictive cardiomyopathy.
“That is Sophie’s condition.”
Emily felt cold.
The hospital administrator cleared her throat.
“Dr. Bennett has requested all relevant records. We can send an emergency inquiry to the institute.”
“No,” Victoria said.
Everyone looked at her.
“If Arthur receives an official request, he may destroy whatever remains.”
Daniel’s anger returned.
“What are you suggesting?”
“We go there ourselves.”
Emily shook her head.
“My daughter is in intensive care.”
“You should stay with her.”
“And trust you to bring back the truth?”
Victoria did not answer.
Daniel stepped between them.
“I’ll go.”
Brooke looked at him.
“I’m coming.”
“You just learned we may be related.”
“That is exactly why I’m coming.”
Victoria straightened.
“The institute is private property. We cannot simply enter.”
Brooke looked at the old photograph again.
“My mother might know how.”
Her mother, Linda Wells, lived forty minutes away.
Brooke had not spoken to her in nearly six months after an argument about Daniel’s family.
She called from the hospital corridor.
Linda answered on the fourth ring.
“Brooke?”
“Mom, I need you to tell me the truth about Saint Catherine.”
The silence on the line lasted too long.
“Who told you that name?”
“Victoria Whitmore.”
Linda inhaled sharply.
“Get away from her.”
“Was Richard Whitmore my biological father?”
Another silence.
Then Linda began to cry.
Brooke closed her eyes.
“Mom.”
“I wanted to tell you.”
“When?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Victoria?”
“Of Arthur Vale.”
Daniel moved closer to the phone.
“What did Vale do?”
Linda heard his voice.
“Daniel is with you?”
“Yes.”
“Do not go to the institute.”
Brooke looked at the address on the screen.
“Why?”
“Because the children born through Saint Catherine were not accidents.”
Victoria sat down slowly.
Linda continued.
“The doctors were trying to produce compatible family lines. They selected donors based on tissue markers, disease resistance, and blood characteristics.”
Emily felt sick.
“You mean they engineered matches?”
“No,” Linda said. “They arranged pregnancies. They wanted groups of biologically related children who could serve as medical donors for each other.”
Daniel stared at the photograph of six bassinets.
“The six infants.”
“Six were born in the first successful group. Arthur called them the Whitmore Line.”
Brooke pressed a hand to her chest.
“Why Richard?”
“His family carried a rare cellular marker that made certain transplants unusually successful.”
“But his family also carried heart disease,” Emily said.
“They did not know that at first.”
“When they discovered it?”
Linda’s voice broke.
“They buried the results.”
Victoria covered her face.
Brooke’s voice became hard.
“Were you paid?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough to ruin my life.”
Brooke turned away.
Daniel took the phone.
“Mrs. Wells, how do we get inside the institute?”
“You don’t.”
“Arthur may have records that can save Sophie.”
Linda began breathing rapidly.
“Who is Sophie?”
“My daughter.”
The sound Linda made was almost a sob.
“Then he already knows.”
“How?”
“Arthur has tracked every child born from the line and every child they later had.”
Emily looked toward Sophie’s room.
The attempted record access suddenly felt far more threatening.
Linda whispered, “Listen carefully. There is an old service entrance beneath the east wing. The code used to be the date of the first births.”
“October 14, 1989?”
“Yes.”
Brooke took the phone again.
“Mom, why are you so afraid?”
“Because Arthur does not believe those children belong to their families.”
“What does he believe?”
“That they belong to the program.”
The call ended.
A nurse rushed into the corridor.
“Ms. Parker, Sophie is asking for you.”
Emily entered the room immediately.
Sophie’s eyes were open.
A folded piece of paper rested beside her pillow.
“Who gave you this?” Emily asked.
“The nice doctor.”
“What doctor?”
“The one with white hair.”
Emily opened the paper.
It contained only one sentence.
May you like
Your daughter’s heart can be saved, but not by this hospital.
At the bottom was the circle-and-line symbol.
