Chapter 5: The Doctor Who Signed Our Lives Away
“Why would a doctor call you after sixteen years?”” I asked.
Rebecca didn't answer immediately.
She kept looking at my father, waiting for him to deny something. When he remained silent, she opened the envelope she'd brought and removed a folded sheet of paper.
“Because Evelyn knows I've started asking questions again.””
Noah leaned closer.
“What questions?””
“Questions about Lily's adoption. About the original hospital records. About why three babies were listed on a birth certificate that was later changed to two.””
She handed him the paper.
It was a letter printed on official hospital stationery. The date was three days earlier.
The message was brief.
Rebecca, you need to stop contacting former staff about Case 1303. The matter was resolved years ago. Further inquiries could have consequences for everyone involved.
There was no signature, only the initials E.M.
Noah looked up.
“She threatened you.””
“She warned me.””
“What's the difference?””
Rebecca folded her arms.
“People who threaten you want you to be afraid. People who warn you want you to believe they're helping.””
“Which one is she?”” I asked.
Rebecca looked at me.
“I don't know anymore.””
My father stepped toward the letter.
“Give me that.””
Noah moved it behind his back.
“You've had sixteen years to explain yourself. You're not taking anything else from us.””
Dad's face reddened.
“I'm still your father.””
“Then act like one,” I snapped.
He looked at me as if he'd forgotten I was there.
For a few seconds, the parking lot was silent except for the distant sound of students celebrating inside the school.
Then Dad pointed at Rebecca.
“She doesn't know what she's talking about. Evelyn helped us when nobody else would.””
Sarah stared at him.
“Helped you do what?””
He rubbed his jaw.
“You were sick after the twins were born. You were exhausted, confused, and convinced everyone was trying to take your children. Rebecca arrived with a baby and begged us to protect her. Evelyn arranged temporary care.””
“Temporary?”” Noah repeated.
“The documents say permanent.””
“Because Rebecca disappeared!””
Rebecca stepped forward.
“I disappeared because you told me Lily had died!””
“You left the baby with us!””
“For four days!”” she shouted.
“I came back four days later, and you told me she'd been taken to another family!””
Dad's eyes flickered.
“You were supposed to stay away.””
Rebecca stared at him.
“You knew I was coming back.””
He said nothing.
I felt sick.
The truth wasn't arriving as one clear revelation. It was coming in pieces, each one worse than the last.
Dad hadn't simply lied about my mother. He had participated in a chain of decisions involving children, false records, and people who apparently still had something to hide.
And every time we asked him a question, he acted as though we were the ones doing something wrong.
“I'm going to find Dr. Mercer,” I said.
Dad grabbed my shoulder.
“No, you're not.””
I looked down at his hand.
“Let go.””
“Ethan, please. You don't know what she can do.””
“Neither do you, apparently.””
His fingers loosened.
I stepped away.
Noah checked his phone.
“The hospital is about fifteen minutes from here. If Evelyn is working today, we can talk to her before she leaves.””
Rebecca shook her head.
“You can't just walk into a hospital and accuse a doctor of falsifying records.””
“Then what do you suggest?”” Noah asked.
“Find the original file.””
“We have photographs.””
“Photographs of pages someone selected for you. We need the entire record, including the pages that were removed.””
Sarah looked between them.
“How do we get it?””
Rebecca hesitated.
“I know someone who worked in the hospital archives when the twins were born. He retired years ago, but he may still have copies.””
“Who?”” I asked.
“Martin Hayes. He was the records supervisor.””
Noah immediately searched the name on his phone.
After a few seconds, he turned the screen toward us.
A recent obituary appeared.
*Martin Hayes, 67, died six months ago.*
Beneath it was a list of surviving relatives.
His daughter, Claire Hayes, was listed as the contact for his estate.
Noah frowned.
“That's not helpful.””
Rebecca leaned over the screen.
“Wait.””
She pointed at the photograph attached to the obituary.
A middle-aged man stood beside Martin at what appeared to be a family gathering. He wore a hospital employee badge.
Rebecca tapped the screen.
“That man is Martin's son. He worked in the same department.””
Noah searched again.
A professional profile appeared.
*Andrew Hayes — Medical Records Compliance Consultant.*
“He might have access to the archive,” Noah said.
“Or he might know why it was altered,” Rebecca replied.
Dad shook his head.
“You're making a terrible mistake.””
I turned to him.
“Then help us avoid it. Tell us what happened.””
He stared at me.
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because if I tell you, you'll never forgive me.””
The words silenced everyone.
I wanted to tell him forgiveness wasn't the issue anymore. But I couldn't speak.
Because somewhere beneath my anger was the memory of a little boy sitting on his father's shoulders at a county fair. A boy who had believed his dad could fix anything.
I hated that I still wanted that man to exist.
Sarah approached him slowly.
“Daniel, did you ever love me?””
He looked up.
“Of course I did.””
“Then why did you make me believe my children were dead?””
His eyes filled with tears.
“I thought I was saving them.””
“From whom?””
He opened his mouth.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, and all the color vanished from his face.
Rebecca noticed.
“Who is it?””
He ignored her.
The phone rang again.
I stepped closer and read the name on the display.
*EVELYN MERCER.*
Dad declined the call.
A second later, a message appeared.
He read it, then shoved the phone into his pocket.
“What did she say?”” Noah demanded.
“Nothing.””
“Show me.””
“No.””
Noah moved toward him.
Dad backed away.
“Stay away from me!””
The sudden panic in his voice made me stop.
He looked like a man cornered by something far more frightening than four angry family members.
Then his phone buzzed again.
This time, a photograph appeared in the message preview.
Dad stared at it.
His knees nearly buckled.
I reached for the phone, but he pulled it away.
“Dad, what is it?””
He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
“It's Lily.””
Rebecca snatched the phone from his hand.
The photograph showed a young woman in a hospital corridor, wearing blue scrubs. She stood beside a man whose face was partially hidden by a surgical mask.
On the back wall was a digital clock displaying the time.
The image had been taken less than ten minutes earlier.
Below it was a message.
*You have until midnight to return what you took. Otherwise, the children learn what really happened to Rebecca's baby.*
Sarah staggered.
“Rebecca's baby? Lily is Rebecca's baby!””
Rebecca stared at the message.
Then she slowly shook her head.
“No.””
She zoomed in on the photograph.
Her lips parted.
“That's not Lily's father.””
Noah frowned.
“What do you mean?””
Rebecca looked at my father.
“Because Lily's father died before she was born.””
Dad closed his eyes.
Rebecca's voice dropped to a whisper.
“Unless the man who died wasn't the man Daniel told me he was.””
She turned the phone toward me.
The masked man's wrist was visible beside Lily's shoulder.
A black tattoo curled around it in the shape of a serpent.
I recognized it.
I'd seen the same tattoo once, when I was seven years old, in an old family photograph Dad had torn in half.
It belonged to a man named Michael Carter.
My father's younger brother.
The uncle Dad claimed had died in a car accident before I was born.
I stared at the screen.
“That's Uncle Michael.””
Dad's face collapsed.
“No,” he whispered.
Noah looked between us.
“Who's Michael Carter?””
I couldn't take my eyes off the photograph.
“My uncle.””
Dad shook his head, backing away.
“He's dead.””
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Rebecca looked at him with cold, terrible certainty.
“Then why is he standing beside my daughter?””
