PART 9 — The Third Child
PART 9 — The Third Child
Natalie slowly stepped back from the embrace.
For several long seconds, she simply stared at the woman standing in front of her.
Every feature was hauntingly familiar.
The same dark eyes.
The same smile.
The same tiny birthmark above the right eyebrow.
If it weren't for Emily's shorter hair and elegant business suit, Natalie could have believed she was looking into a mirror.
Tears filled both of their eyes.
Emily laughed softly through them.
"I always wondered if we really looked alike."
Natalie smiled.
"I think we answered that."
For the first time in twenty-eight years, the sisters sat across from each other.
Neither knew where to begin.
Emily poured two cups of tea with trembling hands.
"I've imagined this conversation a thousand times."
"So have I," Natalie admitted.
"But until a few weeks ago... I didn't even know you existed."
Emily nodded sadly.
"I've known about you for almost ten years."
Natalie looked up in surprise.
"What?"
"I found a letter hidden in my adoptive mother's things after she passed away."
Emily walked to the window and stared out at the quiet streets below.
"She confessed that I wasn't her biological daughter."
"She didn't know where you were."
"Only that Eleanor Hayes had hidden another little girl."
Natalie frowned.
"Why didn't you look for me?"
Emily lowered her eyes.
"I did."
"I hired investigators."
"I searched hospital records."
"I searched adoption files."
"Every trail disappeared."
"Someone erased everything."
Natalie already knew who.
"Victor."
Emily nodded.
"Victor."
For the next hour, they compared memories.
Natalie spoke about Harold.
About growing up in a small town.
About becoming a nurse.
Emily smiled.
"You chose a life helping people."
Natalie laughed.
"I guess I did."
"And you?"
Emily sighed.
"I became CEO because everyone expected me to."
"But I never loved boardrooms."
"I loved science."
Natalie smiled.
"Maybe that's genetic."
Both women laughed.
For a brief moment, they weren't strangers.
They were simply sisters making up for twenty-eight lost years.
Then Emily's expression became serious.
"I didn't ask you here just to meet."
She opened a leather briefcase resting beside the bed.
Inside was a thick folder marked:
PROJECT ORION
Natalie frowned.
"What's that?"
Emily carefully spread several documents across the table.
Old contracts.
Laboratory diagrams.
Patent applications.
At the very bottom...
A photograph.
It showed their biological parents standing beside three newborn bassinets.
Natalie stared.
"Three?"
Emily nodded slowly.
"There weren't two babies."
"There were three."
Natalie's stomach tightened.
Victor's final words echoed in her mind.
The third child.
"I didn't want to believe it either."
Emily slid the photograph closer.
Three bassinets.
Three identification cards.
Baby A.
Baby B.
Baby C.
There was no mistake.
"Our parents had triplets."
Natalie whispered.
Emily nodded.
"So who is the third child?"
"I don't know."
"Eleanor's letters only mentioned separating us."
"Nothing about another baby."
Emily took a deep breath.
"Which means someone removed all evidence."
Natalie looked again at the photograph.
Baby C's bassinet appeared slightly farther away.
As though someone had deliberately cropped the image before.
On the back of the photograph someone had written:
One must never be found.
A knock interrupted them.
Both women froze.
Emily hadn't told anyone where she was.
Carefully, she approached the door.
"Who is it?"
A familiar voice answered.
"Room service."
Emily frowned.
"I didn't order anything."
Silence.
Then...
The handle slowly turned.
Someone was trying to unlock the door.
Natalie instinctively grabbed the heavy lamp from the bedside table.
The electronic lock beeped once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally...
The door burst open.
A masked man rushed inside.
Emily screamed.
Natalie swung the lamp with every ounce of strength she had.
The attacker collapsed instantly.
Before either sister could react...
A second masked figure entered.
This one raised a handgun.
"Don't move."
The sisters stood perfectly still.
The gunman looked directly at Emily.
"Mr. Langford sends his regards."
Suddenly—
A loud crash exploded from the hallway.
The gunman turned.
Detective Rebecca Lawson tackled him through the doorway.
The pistol slid across the carpet.
Natalie kicked it away.
Within seconds, two federal agents rushed into the room.
The attacker was handcuffed.
Emily stared in shock.
"Rebecca?"
Lawson caught her breath.
"I told you not to come alone."
Natalie blinked.
"You followed me?"
Lawson nodded.
"I stopped trusting coincidences days ago."
Back at the local FBI field office, the sisters finally learned the truth.
Special Agent Daniel Mercer spread dozens of files across a conference table.
"We've been investigating Victor Langford for seventeen years."
Natalie frowned.
"Seventeen?"
"We could never prove anything."
"He owns companies in six countries."
"He's funded political campaigns."
"Donates millions to hospitals."
"Publicly..."
"He's untouchable."
Emily folded her arms.
"And privately?"
Mercer's eyes hardened.
"We believe he ordered at least twelve murders."
The room fell silent.
Margaret's flash drive was connected to the secure computer.
Folders appeared on the screen.
Financial records.
Wire transfers.
Recorded phone calls.
Witness statements.
Everything Eleanor and Margaret had spent decades protecting.
Then one video file caught everyone's attention.
Its title read:
Hospital Security — March 18
Mercer opened it.
The grainy footage showed the maternity ward.
A nurse wheeled three newborns toward the nursery.
Minutes later...
Victor appeared.
He wasn't alone.
A doctor accompanied him.
The two men entered the nursery.
The camera briefly lost sight of them.
When they emerged...
There were only two bassinets.
Natalie's skin prickled.
The third baby had vanished.
Mercer paused the video.
"This recording was hidden inside Margaret's flash drive."
Emily whispered,
"So Victor took the third child."
Mercer nodded.
"We believe so."
"But we still don't know why."
Before anyone could speak again...
Lawson's phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed immediately.
"What?"
She looked at Natalie.
"Harold's house."
Natalie stood.
"What about it?"
Lawson swallowed.
"It caught fire."
The world seemed to stop.
Natalie felt every ounce of color drain from her face.
"My father..."
"The firefighters found him outside."
Natalie's knees nearly gave way.
"Is he alive?"
Lawson nodded.
"Yes."
"He survived."
Relief flooded through Natalie.
But it lasted only seconds.
Lawson continued.
"He said someone broke in before the fire."
"They took one thing."
Natalie already knew.
"The journal."
Lawson shook her head.
"No."
"They already had that."
"They took..."
She looked down at the incident report.
"...the baby blanket from Harold's lockbox."
Emily frowned.
"The blanket?"
Mercer suddenly stood.
His face had turned pale.
"Wait."
He looked again at the hospital footage.
Then at the photograph of the three bassinets.
Finally...
At the report mentioning the stolen blanket.
"Oh no..."
Natalie stared at him.
"What?"
Mercer whispered,
"The blanket wasn't a keepsake."
"It was evidence."
He enlarged the old hospital photograph.
Each newborn had been wrapped in a different knitted blanket.
Pink.
Blue.
White.
Only one had a unique embroidered symbol stitched into the corner.
The same symbol Harold had described on the blanket stolen from his house.
Mercer's voice became almost inaudible.
"The third baby wasn't taken by Victor..."
"He was switched."
Emily and Natalie looked at each other in disbelief.
Mercer slowly finished the sentence.
"And if that's true..."
"...the person everyone believes is the third child..."
"...has been living under the wrong name for twenty-eight years."
At that exact moment, Victor Langford sat alone inside his private office.
He opened a locked drawer.
Inside lay a recent photograph.
Three adults stood smiling at a charity gala.
Emily.
Natalie.
And...
Detective Rebecca Lawson.
Victor picked up the photograph and smiled.
"You finally figured out there were three children."
He gently tapped Rebecca's face with one finger.
"But you still don't know..."
May you like
"...which one is mine."
To Be Continued…
