Chapter 14 - The Choice at Dawn)
Nathan Ward had a son.
Not publicly.
No family biographies mentioned him.
No political articles.
No photographs.
Catherine's files identified him only as Owen.
Born seven years before Emma.
Severe inherited blood disorder.
Repeated transfusions.
Experimental treatment.
Claire understood before Catherine explained.
Cord blood.
Partly.
They wanted a genetically compatible newborn.
A donor sibling.
But Emma was not related to them.
No.
Then why choose her?
Catherine hesitated.
Because Nathan believed Daniel was.
Claire stared.
Related to Nathan?
Catherine nodded.
Daniel entered the room behind them.
What?
Claire turned.
Daniel had arrived with another officer.
Catherine repeated.
Nathan believed you shared a biological father.
Daniel laughed.
That's impossible.
Your father traveled extensively before marrying your mother.
Daniel's face hardened.
My father died twenty years ago.
Catherine produced an old photograph.
Robert Whitmore.
Daniel's father.
Beside him stood Nathan Ward's mother, Evelyn Ward.
The photograph was intimate.
Too intimate.
Daniel sat.
Claire watched him process it.
If they share a father, Daniel said, Nathan and I are half brothers.
Possibly.
Then our children could share enough genetic markers.
Yes.
Claire felt nauseated.
Emma had been selected before birth because Voss obtained Claire's prenatal data and believed she might be useful to Nathan Ward's sick child.
But the plan changed.
Why?
Catherine explained.
Nathan's wife panicked.
She withdrew.
Caroline Ward learned what her brother in law was doing and confronted Voss.
That was why Caroline had been at St. Catherine the night Emma was born.
You promised there would never be another child.
Caroline had discovered the network years after Anna's illegal adoption.
She had demanded Elias and Nathan stop.
But by the time she arrived, the fire alarm plan had already begun.
Margaret's daughter had just lost a baby.
Voss changed destinations.
Emma went to Rebecca.
Claire struggled to understand the cruelty of how easily lives had been rearranged.
Like luggage.
Like records.
Who took Voss? Reed asked.
Catherine looked at him.
Nathan.
Where?
I don't know.
Then why do I think you do?
Catherine smiled sadly.
Because you are a good detective.
She opened a cabinet.
A map lay inside.
Three properties were circled.
One belonged to Ward family holdings.
A decommissioned medical retreat in the mountains.
Two hours north.
Police mobilized.
Before dawn they reached the property.
Voss was there.
Alive.
Barely.
He was found restrained in an old treatment room.
Nathan Ward was gone.
So was every computer drive.
Voss had bruises across his face and a fractured wrist.
At the hospital, under guard, he requested an attorney.
Then he requested Claire.
Reed refused initially.
Claire insisted.
She entered Voss's room wearing a recording device.
The doctor looked old.
Smaller.
For six years he had existed in her memory as the man who announced death.
Now he was simply human.
Which made what he had done worse.
He looked at her.
Emma is alive.
Claire said nothing.
I knew she would be.
You told me she died.
Yes.
Why?
Voss closed his eyes.
Because I had stopped seeing children.
Claire waited.
I saw problems.
Solutions.
Families with money.
Families with desperation.
Records that could be changed.
You stole babies.
Yes.
You murdered people?
His eyes opened.
No.
Claire thought of Sloane.
Caroline.
Jennifer.
Evelyn Price.
Rebecca.
Voss whispered.
I moved children. Others protected the system.
Who killed Sloane?
I don't know.
Who took you?
Nathan.
Why?
He believed I kept copies.
Did you?
Voss smiled.
Always.
Where?
He looked toward the window.
You think this ends with Ward.
Doesn't it?
No.
Claire's stomach tightened.
Elias Ward used the network.
Nathan used it.
But they didn't build it.
Who did?
Voss looked frightened.
For the first time Claire believed his fear was genuine.
A foundation.
Name.
Havenbridge.
Claire had never heard it.
What is Havenbridge?
Voss spoke slowly.
People with money create charities when they want the public to see kindness.
Sometimes those charities have private purposes.
Illegal adoption?
Among other things.
What other things?
Voss closed his eyes.
I want protection.
You kidnapped my child and you want me to protect you?
Not from you.
From them.
Claire leaned closer.
Where are your copies?
Voss gave her an address.
A bank.
Safe deposit box.
Number 611.
Key?
Nathan took it.
Then we can't open it.
Voss smiled faintly.
There are two keys.
Who has the other?
He whispered.
Margaret.
Claire left.
Margaret confirmed it.
For six years she had worn a tiny brass key sewn into the lining of her winter coat.
She had never known what it opened.
Voss had given it to her after Rebecca began asking questions.
He told Margaret it was insurance.
Now they knew why.
A federal judge issued an order.
The safe deposit box was opened.
Inside were ledgers.
Photographs.
Birth certificates.
Audio recordings.
And one sealed packet.
Claire Whitmore.
She opened it with Reed.
Inside was a photograph of Emma taken minutes after birth.
Another photograph showed Nathan Ward.
A third showed Caroline Ward arguing with Voss.
Then Claire found a document dated seven months before Emma was born.
Subject pregnancy located.
Whitmore family.
Compatibility likelihood moderate.
Observe until delivery.
Claire stared.
They had targeted her pregnancy months earlier.
At the bottom was a handwritten authorization.
Proceed with monitoring.
The signature was not Voss.
Not Sloane.
Not Nathan.
Claire knew the handwriting.
She had seen it on birthday cards.
Christmas checks.
Family letters.
Daniel looked over her shoulder.
His face emptied.
No.
Claire whispered the name.
Robert Whitmore.
Daniel's father.
The man who had supposedly died fourteen years before Emma was born had signed a document seven months before Emma's birth.
Daniel shook his head.
That's impossible.
May you like
Reed examined the signature.
Unless he didn't die when you thought he did.
