“You know what this means.”
“It could mean he believed death was certain.”
“You don't believe that.”
Rachel remained careful.
“I believe we need evidence.”
Ethan said:
“Hannah’s note.”
He disappeared into bedroom.
Returned carrying a small cedar box.
Inside were documents preserved with painful care.
Foster placement orders.
Hospital notes.
A copy of the unknown infant intake.
And a spiral notebook.
Ethan opened to a page.
Hannah’s handwriting:
Female approx. 30s brought in 11:47 p.m., hypothermia, internal bleeding, extensive trauma. Infant female with patient, approx. 8-12 months. Woman repeatedly asks for baby. Says: “Don’t let him take her.” Later: “Vale. Vale. He’ll find her.” Could be “valley.” Patient deteriorated before formal ID.
Rachel read twice.
Alexandra had stopped moving.
“Miriam knew Victor.”
she whispered.
“Everyone did.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Would she fear him?”
Alexandra answered without hesitation.
“No.”
Then uncertainty.
“At least I never thought so.”
Rachel said:
“Any conflict?”
“Miriam worked for me.”
“She was loyal.”
“She hated Victor because he called childcare ‘domestic overhead.’”
“But fear?”
“No.”
Rachel closed the notebook.
“We need to find original EMS report.”
“Road worker.”
“Hospital admission records.”
“Anything removed.”
Alexandra’s phone rang.
Victor.
She stared at screen.
Rachel immediately said:
“Don't answer.”
Alexandra answered.
Rachel cursed under breath.
“Uncle Victor.”
His voice came smooth.
“Alexandra.”
“I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday.”
“I heard you canceled the Blackstone dinner.”
“I had an emergency.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Then what could possibly justify humiliating the board?”
Alexandra looked at Rachel.
Then Ethan.
Nora was coloring in living room.
Alexandra said:
“I found Emilia.”
Silence.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Silence.
Too long.
Alexandra felt every hair on her arms rise.
Finally Victor laughed.
Not naturally.
“What?”
“My daughter.”
“She’s alive.”
Another pause.
Then:
“Alexandra.”
“Whoever told you this—”
“I’m looking at her.”
Victor inhaled.
Alexandra heard it.
Small.
Sharp.
Fear.
Then he recovered.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
“You need to be careful.”
“There are people who exploit grief.”
Alexandra’s eyes hardened.
“Her DNA test is pending.”
“Do not tell anyone.”
That was fast.
Alexandra glanced at Rachel.
Victor continued.
“If this is some extortion scheme, publicity could destroy you.”
“You're right.”
Alexandra said.
“We should keep it quiet.”
Victor relaxed slightly.
“Yes.”
“Until we understand.”
“Yes.”