Chapter 10 - The Son Who Was Declared Dead
# Chapter 10 - The Son Who Was Declared Dead
The death certificate was dated September 18.
Three weeks ago.
Anthony Venturi Vale had supposedly died of cardiac arrest at a private medical facility outside Boston.
But the photograph Adriano carried showed Anthony standing in a Bellwether hospital corridor on September 17, alive and apparently conscious.
One day before his recorded death.
And according to Adriano, the man who arranged that death certificate was Charles Barrett.
Dominic Moretti stared at the document.
"Where's his body?"
Adriano didn't answer.
"Where did they bury him?"
"There's no burial record."
"Then how do you know he's dead?"
"I don't."
The answer made Isabella stagger.
She gripped the back of a chair.
"You told me my son was alive."
Adriano turned toward her.
"I told you he was alive three weeks ago."
"And now?"
His expression changed.
"I don't know."
Isabella closed her eyes.
For forty-two years, she had lived with the pain of believing her newborn son was dead.
Now she had learned that Anthony survived childhood, reached adulthood, and was involved in trying to stop the abduction of Dominic's children.
Only to be declared dead again.
The cruelty of it was almost unbearable.
Dominic placed the document on the table.
"Start from the beginning."
Adriano looked at him.
"Which beginning?"
"The part where you explain who you really are."
The sitting room fell silent.
Outside Isabella's Maine home, waves crashed against the rocky shoreline. The late afternoon sunlight had begun to fade, leaving the windows reflecting three people who were bound together by a family none of them fully understood.
Adriano removed his charcoal coat.
Beneath it, he wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled above his wrists.
There was a long scar across his right forearm.
Dominic noticed it immediately.
"Where did you get that?"
Adriano glanced down.
"Bellwether."
"When?"
"Six years ago."
Dominic waited.
Adriano exhaled.
"My birth name was Michael Vale."
Dominic went still.
"Then you weren't born Adriano Moretti?"
"No."
"Who's your father?"
Adriano looked toward Isabella.
"I don't know."
"And your mother?"
"Her name was Catherine Vale. She died when I was four."
"How did you end up with Vittorio?"
Adriano gave a tired smile.
"Richard brought me to him."
Dominic frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I looked enough like a Moretti to pass as one."
Isabella pressed a hand against her mouth.
Adriano continued.
"I was fifteen. Richard told me that my mother had been involved with Vittorio and that I was his eldest son."
"Was that true?"
"I believed it."
"And now?"
"I have no reliable evidence that Vittorio was my biological father."
Dominic stared.
The man standing before him had spent more than twenty years carrying a name that apparently wasn't his.
A borrowed identity.
A fabricated inheritance.
A life constructed around someone else's missing child.
"Why did you agree to it?" Dominic asked.
Adriano looked at him sharply.
"I was a teenager who'd spent most of his life in institutions. A wealthy man offered me a family, a home, and a name."
His voice hardened.
"What would you have done?"
Dominic said nothing.
Adriano looked away.
"At first, I thought I'd finally found my father."
"Then?"
"Then I discovered there was another boy."
"Anthony."
Adriano nodded.
"Vittorio showed me his records. He told me Anthony was Isabella's real son, but that finding him would endanger both of us."
"Did you believe that?"
"For a while."
Dominic leaned forward.
"When did you stop?"
"When I met Anthony."
Isabella made a small sound.
Adriano turned toward her.
"He knew about you."
Tears filled her eyes.
"He did?"
"Yes."
"Did he ask about me?"
Adriano swallowed.
"All the time."
Isabella covered her face.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then she whispered, "Why didn't he come home?"
Adriano lowered his eyes.
"Because by the time he found out you were alive, Charles Barrett had already made sure he couldn't leave."
At Seabrook, Elena watched Daniel sitting on the living-room carpet beside Luca.
The two boys were constructing a fortress from wooden blocks.
Matteo was attempting to add a tower.
Nico insisted the structure needed a second entrance.
Leo had declared himself the king.
For a few minutes, they looked like ordinary children enjoying an ordinary afternoon.
Elena desperately wanted that to be enough.
Then her phone vibrated.
Dominic.
She stepped into the hallway.
"Hello?"
"Elena, is Daniel with you?"
"Yes."
"Is he safe?"
"He's with the boys. Marco is watching the entrances."
Dominic exhaled.
"Good."
Something in his voice frightened her.
"What happened?"
He hesitated.
"Adriano believes Daniel is Jonathan."
Elena stopped moving.
"Sloane's son?"
"Yes."
She leaned against the wall.
"Oh, God."
"He says the boy was originally registered as Jonathan Barrett-Mercer, but that another record names Anthony Vale as his biological father."
Elena frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
"I know."
"Which record is correct?"
"We don't know."
She closed her eyes.
For days, every answer had produced another contradiction.
"Dominic, Daniel has already been told too many stories about who he is."
"I'm not telling him anything until we have reliable evidence."
"Good."
Dominic was silent for a moment.
Then he said, "There's something else."
Elena's pulse quickened.
"What?"
"Anthony Vale was declared dead three weeks ago."
She pressed a hand against her chest.
"But Adriano said he was alive."
"He was photographed the day before the recorded death. We haven't established what happened afterward."
Elena looked toward the living room.
Daniel was laughing.
A small, bright sound.
And suddenly she wondered whether the boy had already lost another person he loved.
"Does Daniel know?" she whispered.
"I don't think so."
"Then don't let anyone tell him until we understand what's true."
Dominic's voice softened.
"I won't."
Back in Maine, Adriano described his first meeting with Anthony Vale.
"It was nine years ago," he said. "Charles brought me to a private residence in Rhode Island."
"Why?" Dominic asked.
"He wanted me to persuade Anthony to sign legal documents."
"What documents?"
"A statement renouncing any claim to the Moretti family trust."
Dominic frowned.
"Why would Anthony have a claim?"
"Because he was Vittorio's biological firstborn."
"Was that proven?"
"Charles had a genetic report."
"Did you see the underlying test?"
"No."
Dominic exchanged a glance with Adrian.
Another unverified laboratory document.
Another identity tied to the trust.
Adriano continued.
"Anthony refused."
"Why?"
"He said he wanted to speak to Isabella first."
Isabella began crying again.
Adriano's voice softened.
"He wasn't interested in the money."
Dominic stared at him.
"Then what did he want?"
"His mother."
The answer silenced the room.
Adriano looked toward Isabella.
"He told me he'd spent his childhood being moved between institutions. Whenever he asked about you, someone told him you'd abandoned him."
Isabella shook her head.
"No."
"He eventually found a copy of your birth record. That's how he learned your name."
She pressed both hands against her mouth.
Adriano continued.
"Charles promised to arrange a reunion if Anthony cooperated with the trust."
"Did he?"
"No."
"Then what happened?"
"Anthony discovered something in the Bellwether archives."
Dominic became still.
"What?"
"Records showing that children had been assigned new identities to support guardianship and inheritance arrangements."
"Before Elena's pregnancy?"
"Years before."
Dominic thought of the old children's home in Providence.
The unexplained transfers.
The false records.
The sealed coffin Isabella had buried.
"What did Anthony do?"
"He began copying documents."
"And Charles found out."
Adriano nodded.
"After that, Anthony was never allowed to leave Bellwether without someone accompanying him."
Isabella stared.
"You're saying they imprisoned my son?"
"I'm saying he was prevented from leaving freely. I saw security stop him more than once."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"And you helped them."
Adriano looked at him.
"Yes."
The admission was immediate.
No excuses.
No evasions.
"I was part of it."
Dominic stood.
"You helped keep an innocent man locked away."
Adriano met his eyes.
"And later, I helped hide your children."
Isabella began shaking.
Dominic stepped closer.
"Then why should I believe anything you say?"
Adriano's expression tightened.
"Because I'm giving you evidence that implicates me."
He reached into his coat.
And placed a small recorder on the table.
At 7:12 p.m., Adrian examined the recorder.
It contained several audio files.
Adriano identified one dated October 14, six years earlier.
"The night Elena delivered."
Dominic went still.
"Who recorded it?"
"Anthony."
"Why?"
"Because he suspected Charles was arranging another identity transfer."
Adriano looked toward Isabella.
"Anthony had been allowed into the hospital under supervision. He'd been told he was helping verify records for the family trust."
"And he believed that?"
"Until he saw the babies."
Dominic felt his chest tighten.
Five newborn boys.
His sons.
Anthony had seen them before their own father did.
Adrian connected the recorder to an isolated laptop.
The audio began with footsteps.
A door opening.
Then Richard Moretti's voice.
"The mother is recovering. We have a limited window."
Another voice answered.
Charles Barrett.
"Then stop wasting time."
A pause.
Paper rustled.
Richard spoke again.
"Baby E goes to Bellwether. Baby D stays under temporary reassignment until the records are finalized."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
Then a third voice interrupted.
"That's not what we agreed."
Anthony.
Adriano nodded.
"That's him."
The recording continued.
Charles sounded irritated.
"Anthony, this is not your concern."
"Those are children."
"Lower your voice."
"You're changing their identities."
Richard spoke sharply.
"You're here to witness the documentation. Nothing more."
Anthony answered, "The fourth baby is missing from the nursery."
Silence.
Then Charles asked, very quietly:
"What do you mean, missing?"
Anthony's voice shook.
"Someone moved him before your team arrived."
Dominic leaned toward the screen.
Richard cursed.
Then another voice entered.
Vittorio.
"What happened?"
Charles answered, "There's been a complication."
Vittorio's tone became furious.
"You said one child."
Richard replied, "The situation has changed."
Then Anthony spoke again.
"The infant in Elena's room isn't the original Baby D."
Dominic stopped breathing.
The recording confirmed that Anthony had recognized an identity discrepancy on the night of the delivery.
But it still didn't explain which infant had been substituted.
Or who ordered it.
Then Vittorio shouted:
"Find the child who was taken!"
The audio ended abruptly.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Dominic stared at the recorder.
His father had participated in the original deception.
But he had also apparently demanded that someone locate the missing fourth baby.
That didn't absolve him.
It merely made the story more complicated.
"Where was Anthony after this?" Dominic asked.
Adriano looked down.
"Richard had him removed from the hospital."
"To Bellwether?"
"Yes."
"Did you help?"
Adriano nodded.
"Yes."
Dominic clenched his fists.
"And Baby D?"
"I wasn't told where he went."
"But you saw him later."
"Yes."
"When?"
"At Bellwether. Several years afterward."
Dominic stared.
"The boy in the photograph with Gabriel?"
Adriano nodded.
"That's what I believed."
"Believed?"
"The records identified him as the original Baby D. But I never saw an independent DNA test."
Dominic exhaled.
Even Adriano's most important claims depended on records created by people who had spent decades falsifying them.
"Then what do you know for certain?" Dominic demanded.
Adriano looked directly at him.
"That Anthony tried to expose the operation."
"And?"
"That Charles ordered him confined after the attempt."
"Anything else?"
Adriano's expression darkened.
"That Anthony was still trying to reach Isabella three weeks ago."
At 7:46 p.m., Sloane Barrett regained consciousness in a locked bedroom.
The room was unfamiliar.
The windows were covered by thick curtains.
A lamp illuminated a small table beside the bed.
Her wrists hurt.
She remembered her father grabbing her phone.
Two men forcing her toward a vehicle.
A long drive.
Then nothing.
She sat up slowly.
"Hello?"
No answer.
She crossed the room and tried the door.
Locked.
Her stomach twisted.
Then she noticed an envelope on the table.
Her name was written across it.
SLOANE
Inside was a photograph of a dark-haired boy sitting beside a telescope.
Daniel.
Or Jonathan.
The child she had spent six years mourning.
Sloane dropped into a chair.
"My baby."
A second photograph showed the boy standing beside a younger version of Gabriel.
The boys were smiling.
And on the back, someone had written:
You were right to question his death.
Sloane pressed a hand against her mouth.
Jonathan was alive.
She had suspected it for years.
But she had never been allowed to know which child he had become.
Now the photograph appeared to connect her missing son to the boy staying at Dominic's house.
Before she could examine it further, the lock turned.
Charles Barrett entered.
He carried a tray with tea and toast.
Sloane stood immediately.
"Where am I?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Let me leave."
Charles placed the tray down.
"We need to talk."
"You had men abduct me."
He sighed.
"Don't exaggerate."
"Are you serious?"
His expression hardened.
"You've been making reckless decisions."
Sloane stepped closer.
"Where is Jonathan?"
Charles stopped moving.
She held up the photograph.
"I know he's alive."
Her father stared at it.
Then slowly sat down.
"Where did you get that?"
"It was here."
His expression changed.
For the first time, Sloane saw something she had never seen in her father.
Genuine surprise.
"Someone placed that in your room?"
"Yes."
Charles looked toward the door.
His face darkened.
Then he whispered, "Richard."
Sloane froze.
"What?"
Charles rose abruptly.
"We have to leave."
She stared.
"Why?"
He grabbed her arm.
"Now."
Sloane pulled away.
"Not until you tell me the truth."
Charles turned toward her.
For a moment, his polished composure vanished.
"Your son is alive, Sloane."
Her knees almost buckled.
"And if Richard knows you've found him, neither of you is safe."
At Seabrook, Daniel woke screaming.
Elena rushed into his room.
He was sitting upright, trembling violently.
"No! Don't take him!"
She approached slowly.
"Daniel. It's Elena."
The boy looked around wildly.
"Gabriel!"
"You're safe."
"He took Gabriel!"
Elena sat beside the bed.
"Who did?"
Daniel began crying.
"The man with the glasses."
Charles Barrett.
Elena felt cold.
"Daniel, did Charles take Gabriel?"
He nodded.
"After the birthday papers."
"What birthday papers?"
Daniel shook his head.
"He said Gabriel wasn't the right one anymore."
Elena leaned closer.
"Who said that?"
"Mr. Barrett."
She swallowed.
"What did he mean?"
The boy hesitated.
"Gabriel found out about the blood test."
Elena went still.
"What blood test?"
Daniel looked at her.
"The one they did on all of us."
"Who is all of us?"
The child counted on his fingers.
"Me. Gabriel. Anthony. And the other boy."
Elena stared.
"Anthony?"
Daniel nodded.
"The little one. Not the grown-up."
The unnamed child with the birthmark.
The boy believed to be the original Baby D.
"What happened after the test?" Elena asked.
Daniel's lips trembled.
"They got angry."
"Why?"
"Because the numbers didn't match."
Elena felt her stomach tighten.
"What numbers?"
The boy shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then he whispered something that made her blood run cold.
"Gabriel said somebody wasn't supposed to be born."
At 8:23 p.m., Dominic received Elena's call.
He listened as she described Daniel's nightmare.
The blood testing.
The two boys named Anthony.
The statement about a child who wasn't supposed to exist.
When she finished, Dominic was silent.
Then he asked, "Is Daniel awake?"
"Yes. He's with Marco and a child protection specialist who's been helping us."
"Good."
Elena lowered her voice.
"Dominic, I'm afraid whoever's controlling Bellwether is using the children as evidence in some kind of inheritance scheme."
"So am I."
"And Gabriel?"
Dominic closed his eyes.
"We still haven't located him."
"Then what are we doing?"
He looked toward Adriano.
"Following the people who know where he was taken."
"Do you trust Adriano?"
"No."
"Then why are you with him?"
"Because he knows Anthony."
Elena was silent.
Dominic continued.
"And Anthony may know where our missing son is."
At 9:06 p.m., Adriano revealed the final file on his recorder.
"This is the last message Anthony sent me."
Dominic leaned forward.
"When?"
"September seventeenth. The day before his recorded death."
Adrian began playback.
Anthony's voice sounded strained.
"Michael, if you're hearing this, they've found out what I copied."
A pause.
"I discovered why Charles changed the children's identities."
Dominic gripped the edge of the table.
Anthony continued.
"It wasn't only about the family trust."
Silence.
"The trust gave them a reason to hide the records, but Bellwether was already doing this before Elena's pregnancy."
A cough.
"Children were transferred between institutions under altered names. Guardianship records were rewritten. Some were declared dead."
Isabella covered her mouth.
Anthony's voice grew weaker.
"I found the original registry. There were more children than anyone knows."
Dominic felt cold.
Then Anthony said:
"And one of them was me."
The room fell silent.
The recording continued.
"My records were changed when I was a baby. They used me to test whether the identity system would work."
Adriano lowered his head.
"Vittorio knew part of it. Richard knew everything. Charles controlled the money."
Anthony paused.
"But the latest records prove something worse."
Dominic leaned forward.
"What?"
Anthony's voice trembled.
"Someone has been using the children's identities to move control of the Moretti trust. The signatures were falsified. The medical evidence was manipulated."
Another pause.
"If they discover I have the original registry, they'll make me disappear."
Then a faint sound came through the recording.
A door opening.
Anthony stopped speaking.
A man's voice asked:
"Who are you talking to?"
Anthony whispered:
"No one."
The man replied:
"Give me the recorder."
A struggle followed.
Then Anthony shouted:
"Michael, don't trust Richard!"
The recording ended.
Dominic stared at the device.
"Where is the original registry?"
Adriano shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Did Anthony tell you?"
"No."
"Then how do we find it?"
Adriano hesitated.
"He gave me one clue."
"What?"
"He said the answer was where the first mother buried the wrong son."
Isabella froze.
Dominic slowly turned toward her.
The garden.
The white marble angel.
The unmarked grave.
For forty-two years, Isabella had placed flowers on a grave she believed contained her son.
A grave that might hold another child.
Or perhaps something else.
Dominic stood.
"Isabella, when was the last time anyone worked on that grave?"
She stared at him.
"Why?"
"Please."
She thought carefully.
"About three weeks ago."
Dominic went still.
"What happened?"
"A man came to repair the marble angel. He said the cemetery association had arranged maintenance."
Adriano's expression changed.
"What did he look like?"
Isabella swallowed.
"Middle-aged. Dark hair. A scar near his shoulder."
Dominic felt his pulse hammer.
"Anthony."
Isabella covered her mouth.
"He was here?"
"Possibly."
"At my house?"
Adriano stood abruptly.
"Show us the grave."
At 9:41 p.m., they reached the small cemetery garden.
Marco's team illuminated the area.
The marble angel stood beneath the maple tree.
Isabella approached slowly.
Her hands were trembling.
"He stood here," she whispered.
"My son stood here, and I didn't know him."
Dominic placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"We don't know for certain it was Anthony."
She nodded.
But tears streamed down her cheeks.
Adrian examined the base of the statue.
"There are signs of recent work."
Dominic crouched.
A small brass plate had been fixed beneath the angel.
It hadn't been there in the older photographs.
He read the inscription.
FOR THE CHILDREN WHO WERE GIVEN OTHER NAMES
Beneath it was a sequence of numbers.
Five groups.
Each separated by a small star.
Adriano stared.
"Those are registry references."
Dominic looked up.
"How do you know?"
"Anthony showed me similar numbers in the Bellwether files."
Adrian photographed the plate.
"Don't disturb it. We can have the investigators examine it."
Dominic nodded.
Then Isabella noticed something.
A small envelope had been tucked beneath the flower vase.
She pointed.
"That wasn't there this morning."
Adrian carefully photographed it before recovering it with gloves.
On the front were two words.
FOR ISABELLA
The envelope contained a single photograph.
It showed Anthony standing beside the marble angel.
He wore a dark coat.
His face was tired.
But unmistakably alive.
On the back was a date.
SEPTEMBER 18
The same day his death certificate claimed he died.
Isabella began crying.
"My son."
Dominic stared at the photograph.
If the timestamp was authentic, Anthony had been alive on the day of his supposed death.
But the photograph alone didn't establish the exact time.
Then Adrian turned it over completely.
A handwritten message appeared.
Mother, I couldn't come to the door. They were watching.
Isabella pressed both hands against her mouth.
Beneath the message was another sentence.
I left the registry where they would never think to look.
Dominic looked at the grave.
The marble angel.
The newly repaired base.
The registry numbers.
Everything pointed toward one possibility.
Anthony had returned to his mother's home to hide evidence.
And he might have used the grave of the child she had buried to conceal it.
But before Dominic could speak, Marco's radio crackled.
"Movement at the road. Two vehicles approaching."
Dominic turned.
Headlights appeared through the trees.
Marco raised his hand.
"Everyone back toward the house."
The vehicles stopped beyond the cemetery gate.
Several men stepped out.
One wore a dark suit.
Another carried a flashlight.
And behind them appeared Richard Moretti.
Dominic's uncle.
The man who had threatened Elena.
The man whose name appeared on Gabriel's transfer authorization.
Richard approached the gate slowly.
"Dominic."
Dominic stepped forward.
"Richard."
His uncle smiled faintly.
"I've been looking for you."
"Then you've found me."
Richard glanced toward Isabella.
His expression changed.
"Isabella."
She stared at him with open hatred.
"Where is my son?"
Richard's smile vanished.
Dominic moved between them.
"Answer her."
Richard looked at the grave.
Then at the photograph in Isabella's hands.
Something flickered across his face.
Recognition.
And fear.
"What have you found?" he asked.
Dominic said nothing.
Richard took a step closer.
"Dominic, whatever Adriano told you, he's lying."
Adriano emerged from the shadows.
"Not this time."
Richard froze.
For several seconds, uncle and nephew stared at each other.
Then Richard whispered:
"Michael."
Dominic felt cold.
Richard knew the man's original name.
He had always known.
Adriano stepped forward.
"Tell him what happened to Anthony."
Richard shook his head.
"You don't understand what you're asking."
"Then explain."
Richard looked toward Isabella.
For the first time, his face seemed genuinely exhausted.
"Anthony should never have returned to Bellwether."
Dominic's fists tightened.
"Where is he?"
Richard hesitated.
Then said something none of them expected.
"I don't know."
Adriano laughed bitterly.
"Another lie."
Richard turned sharply.
"No. Charles moved him without telling me."
Dominic stared.
"Charles?"
Richard nodded.
"And if Anthony has the original registry, Charles will do anything to get it back."
Isabella stepped forward.
"Did you kill my son?"
Richard looked at her.
"No."
"Did you take him from me?"
A long silence.
Then Richard lowered his head.
"Yes."
Isabella staggered.
Dominic caught her.
Richard continued.
"And I've spent forty-two years knowing that what I did can never be undone."
Dominic stared at his uncle.
"Then tell us where Gabriel is."
Richard's expression changed.
He looked toward the cemetery.
Then toward Adriano.
Finally, he whispered:
"Gabriel isn't where Charles thinks he is."
Dominic went still.
"What?"
Richard swallowed.
"Someone moved him yesterday."
"Who?"
Richard hesitated.
Then looked directly at Dominic.
"Anthony."
Silence.
Isabella stopped breathing.
Dominic stared.
"Anthony is alive?"
Richard's voice lowered.
"I believe so."
"Where did he take Gabriel?"
Richard shook his head.
"I don't know."
Dominic stepped closer.
"Then how do you know?"
Richard reached into his coat.
Marco's security team immediately moved forward.
Richard raised his empty hand.
"Easy."
He removed a phone.
On the screen was a photograph.
Gabriel sitting inside a car.
Beside him sat a man whose face was partly turned away.
A man with dark hair.
A scar beneath his left shoulder.
Anthony Vale.
Isabella began crying.
Dominic stared at the image.
Gabriel was alive.
Outside Bellwether.
Possibly with the man who had tried to protect him.
Then Dominic noticed something else.
Gabriel was holding a newspaper.
And on the front page was today's date.
October 13.
Tomorrow was the boys' seventh birthday.
The deadline described in the trust.
Dominic looked up.
"Where was this taken?"
Richard swallowed.
"At a ferry terminal."
"Where?"
Richard's expression became grim.
"Maine."
Dominic felt his pulse quicken.
"Which terminal?"
His uncle hesitated.
Then said:
"Rockland."
Dominic looked toward Adrian.
"Get the police. We need to locate them."
Adrian was already reaching for his phone.
But before anyone moved, Isabella's telephone rang.
She looked down.
Unknown number.
Her hands trembled as she answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
Soft.
Exhausted.
"Mom?"
Isabella stopped breathing.
Dominic turned.
She pressed the phone harder against her ear.
"Anthony?"
A long silence.
Then the voice whispered:
"I'm sorry it took me forty-two years to come home."
Isabella began sobbing.
"Where are you?"
"I'm safe for now."
"Are you with Gabriel?"
"Yes."
Dominic stepped closer.
"Anthony, this is Dominic."
The man on the other end became silent.
Then he said:
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere Richard can't reach us."
Dominic looked toward his uncle.
"Gabriel needs medical care. We can arrange independent doctors and protection."
"I know."
"Then let us help."
A pause.
"Dominic, I didn't take Gabriel to hurt you."
"I understand."
"I took him because I found out what Whitmore planned to do tomorrow."
Dominic felt cold.
"What?"
Anthony's breathing became unsteady.
"The trust verification."
"What about it?"
"They were going to use Gabriel's medical records to certify him as the designated beneficiary."
"Isn't he?"
"No."
Dominic froze.
Anthony continued.
"Gabriel was never the child whose identity the trust required."
Dominic looked toward Richard.
His uncle had gone pale.
"Then who was?"
Anthony hesitated.
"Before I answer, you need to understand something."
"What?"
"The original Baby D wasn't merely switched with another infant."
Dominic's heartbeat hammered.
Anthony's voice dropped.
"His identity was divided between two children."
Dominic stared.
"What does that mean?"
"The medical records belonging to one boy were attached to another. The legal identity was assigned to a different child. Neither child grew up knowing the truth."
Dominic felt the world narrow.
"Which children?"
Anthony took a shaky breath.
"Matteo and Jonathan."
Dominic stopped breathing.
At Seabrook, two boys were sleeping under the same roof.
Matteo, whom Elena had raised from birth.
Daniel, whom Adriano identified as Jonathan.
And now Anthony was telling him that their identities had been intertwined since infancy.
"Anthony," Dominic said slowly, "which one is Elena's biological son?"
A long silence followed.
Then Anthony whispered:
"Neither record can answer that."
Dominic stared.
"What?"
"The records were designed to mislead. The truth requires the original genetic evidence."
"Where is it?"
Anthony's voice became urgent.
"Your father hid it."
Dominic looked toward the marble angel.
The grave.
The repaired base.
The registry numbers.
"Here?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Anthony hesitated.
Then said:
"Under the child your family buried."
Isabella closed her eyes.
Dominic felt his chest tighten.
Anthony continued.
"That grave isn't empty, Dominic."
Silence.
"And the child inside it isn't the baby Isabella gave birth to."
Dominic looked at the marble angel.
The white roses.
The earth beneath it.
Then Anthony whispered the final words.
"The child buried there was the first victim of Project Legacy. And if you open that grave, you'll discover why your father agreed to everything."
The call ended.