Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Knew Too Much

# Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Knew Too Much

The photograph showed a six-year-old boy begging his father to save a brother he had never met.

Dominic Moretti stared at the image on his phone, unable to move.

Gabriel sat in a wheelchair beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of an unfamiliar room. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his thin shoulders disappeared beneath an oversized gray sweatshirt.

A newspaper rested across his knees.

In his trembling hands, he held a white sheet of paper.

Daddy, please don't send Matteo back. They told me what happens to boys who come here.

Dominic read the message three times.

Then he noticed something that made his blood run colder.

Gabriel wasn't looking at the camera.

His eyes were directed toward someone standing beyond the frame.

Someone he appeared to be afraid of.

"Dominic?"

Sloane Barrett's voice barely reached him.

They were still inside Adrian Cole's private downtown office, where Sloane had just shown him footage connecting his dead father to the neonatal transfer that had separated five newborn boys six years earlier.

Dominic raised the phone to his ear.

"Marco. Tell me everything about the package."

"The container was delivered by a private courier. The driver said he received instructions through an automated dispatch system."

"Did you detain him?"

"No. We verified his identity and obtained the delivery details. He appeared unaware of the contents."

"Surveillance?"

"We have footage."

"Preserve it. Don't let anyone access the original without your authorization."

"Understood."

Dominic looked at Gabriel's photograph again.

"Was there anything else?"

A pause.

"Yes."

His fingers tightened around the phone.

"What?"

"A hospital wristband. It carries Matteo's name."

Dominic went still.

"Matteo?"

"Yes. But the identification number doesn't match the records Evelyn brought."

"Read it."

Marco recited the number.

Dominic wrote it on the back of Sloane's discarded engagement invitation.

Then he compared it with the copy of the neonatal register.

The numbers were different.

Not by one digit.

Completely different.

Someone had created another identity for Matteo.

And that identity was now being used to threaten Gabriel.

"Keep the package secured," Dominic said. "And Marco?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Nobody takes my sons anywhere. Not Richard. Not Charles Barrett. Not anyone claiming to represent a hospital."

"Understood."

Dominic ended the call.

Sloane watched him from across the table.

"What happened?"

He turned the phone toward her.

She examined the photograph.

Her face changed.

"Oh, Gabriel."

Dominic noticed the tenderness in her voice.

"You know him."

"I told you I met him."

"That's not what I mean."

Sloane looked up.

"You care about him."

Her eyes filled.

"Of course I do."

"Why?"

She hesitated.

Dominic leaned forward.

"Sloane, if you know something about that boy, now is the time to tell me."

She looked back at the photograph.

"Because he once asked me whether his father was a bad man."

Dominic stopped breathing for a moment.

"What did you tell him?"

"I said I didn't think so."

"Why would he ask that?"

Sloane swallowed.

"Because someone at Bellwether told him his father had chosen to leave him there."

The room became silent.

Dominic slowly lowered himself into a chair.

For six years, Gabriel had been separated from his parents.

But apparently someone had made sure the boy believed his father knew where he was.

Someone had turned Dominic into the villain of his own son's childhood.

"Who told him that?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Think."

"Gabriel never said. He was frightened whenever I asked questions about the adults caring for him."

Dominic looked at the photograph.

Gabriel's fingers were curled tightly around the paper.

"Why would they make him write that message?"

Sloane considered the question.

"To control you."

"Obviously."

"No, Dominic. Not just to make you frightened."

She looked toward the closed door.

"To make you choose."

At Seabrook, Elena sat beside Matteo while he built a crooked castle from wooden blocks.

The boy had refused to leave her side since the attempted abduction.

He followed her into the kitchen.

Waited outside the bathroom.

And twice asked whether the woman from his bedroom knew where they lived.

Elena had answered gently, but every question made her chest tighten.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"If somebody says you're not my real mommy, does that mean I have to go away?"

The block in Elena's hand slipped.

She looked at him.

"Who told you that?"

"The lady."

His eyes dropped to the castle.

"She said I belonged somewhere else."

Elena moved closer.

"Matteo, look at me."

He obeyed.

"You are my son."

"But she said—"

"Whatever that woman said, she had no right to frighten you."

Matteo considered this.

"Even if she knows something?"

Elena felt a sharp pain in her chest.

She could not promise him that the medical records were false.

She could not yet explain biological parentage, guardianship, or the possibility that someone had changed newborn identities.

But she could tell him something true.

"Nothing anyone discovers will change how much I love you."

His bottom lip trembled.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

Matteo leaned into her arms.

Elena held him tightly.

Across the room, Luca watched them.

Unlike his brothers, Luca had become unusually quiet that morning.

He hadn't asked for breakfast.

He hadn't complained when Leo took his favorite chair.

And he kept glancing at the front door.

Elena noticed.

"Luca, honey? Are you all right?"

He nodded too quickly.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

Another nod.

Then he asked, "Mom, if somebody tells you a secret, but they say something bad will happen if you tell, what do you do?"

Elena went still.

She carefully released Matteo.

"Who told you a secret?"

Luca looked down.

"Nobody."

"Luca."

He shifted his weight.

"I was just asking."

Elena moved toward him.

"Sweetheart, if someone threatens you, you can always tell me."

His eyes filled.

"Even if they say you'll get hurt?"

Her heart began pounding.

"Especially then."

Luca opened his mouth.

Before he could speak, a security officer appeared in the doorway.

"Miss Rossi, Mr. Moretti is calling."

Luca immediately stepped backward.

Elena noticed.

"Tell him I'll call back."

The guard nodded and withdrew.

Elena crouched in front of her son.

"Luca, what happened?"

The boy's expression crumpled.

"The man at the restaurant."

Elena felt cold.

"The man in the gray coat?"

Luca nodded.

"He didn't just give me the paper."

"What else did he do?"

The boy reached into his pajama pocket.

And removed a small silver key.

Forty minutes later, Dominic returned to Seabrook.

He entered the living room expecting Elena to demand answers about the photograph.

Instead, she placed a silver key in his palm.

"Where did this come from?"

"Luca."

Dominic looked toward the staircase.

"What?"

"The man in the gray coat gave it to him at Bellamy House."

"Why didn't he tell us?"

"Because the man threatened him."

Dominic's expression changed.

"What did he say?"

Elena swallowed.

"He told Luca that if he showed us the key too soon, his brother would disappear."

Dominic closed his fist around the metal.

"Which brother?"

"Gabriel."

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Dominic asked, "Where is Luca?"

"Upstairs with the others."

"I want to speak to him."

"Dominic."

He stopped.

Elena stepped closer.

"He's six. He already thinks he did something wrong."

Dominic closed his eyes.

His instinct had been to interrogate.

To demand every detail.

To find out precisely what the stranger had said.

But this was Luca.

His son.

A frightened little boy who had carried a threatening secret in his pajama pocket.

Dominic nodded.

"You're right."

Together, they went upstairs.

Luca sat on the edge of his bed, holding the stuffed dinosaur he had taken from Matteo the night before.

When Dominic appeared, his shoulders stiffened.

"Am I in trouble?"

Dominic felt his chest tighten.

"No."

"But I didn't tell you."

"I know."

"The man said—"

Dominic crouched.

"Listen to me, Luca. That man did something wrong. You didn't."

Luca studied his face.

"He said you were dangerous."

Dominic went still.

"What else?"

"He said if I gave you the key, you'd get mad and somebody would hurt Gabriel."

Dominic carefully kept his voice calm.

"Did he tell you who Gabriel is?"

Luca nodded.

"Our brother."

Elena covered her mouth.

Dominic looked at the child.

"How did he explain that?"

"He said there were five of us when we were babies."

Luca frowned.

"But he said someone made a mistake, and one brother went away."

Dominic felt anger rising.

Not at Luca.

At the man who had placed this burden on a child.

"What else did he say?"

Luca looked toward the door.

"He said Gabriel remembers things."

Dominic leaned closer.

"What things?"

"The hospital."

Dominic frowned.

"Gabriel was a newborn. He couldn't remember that."

Luca shrugged.

"That's what the man said."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

The boy hesitated.

Then whispered, "He said Gabriel knows which one of us is supposed to go back."

Elena's eyes filled.

Dominic placed a gentle hand on Luca's shoulder.

"Nobody is going to send you or your brothers away because a stranger says so."

Luca looked uncertain.

"Promise?"

Dominic took a breath.

He had already learned how dangerous promises could be.

So he chose his words carefully.

"I promise I will do everything I can to keep you safe."

Luca finally nodded.

Then he leaned forward and hugged him.

Dominic froze for a fraction of a second.

Before wrapping his arms around his son.

It was the first time Luca had embraced him.

And it nearly undid him.

At 12:32 p.m., Adrian Cole arrived to examine the key.

Marco stood beside him.

They placed it under a magnifying lamp in Dominic's study.

The object was small, silver-colored, and unusually heavy.

A five-pointed star had been engraved into its head.

Beneath the star were the letters:

B.F. — 05

Adrian frowned.

"Bellwether Foundation."

"Probably," Dominic said.

Marco examined the grooves.

"Looks like a cabinet or locker key."

Adrian shook his head.

"Possibly. But the pattern is unusual."

He took a photograph.

"There's a manufacturer code on the edge. I'll have it checked."

Dominic looked at the engraving.

Five.

Again.

Five newborn boys.

Five infant records.

Five identification bracelets.

And now a key marked with the number five.

"Could it belong to the hospital?" Elena asked.

"Maybe," Adrian replied.

"Or the private residence?"

"Also possible."

Dominic stared at the key.

"Peter Voss gave it to Luca."

Adrian looked up.

"The man in the gray coat?"

"Almost certainly."

"Then why?"

Dominic considered the question.

Peter Voss had worked for Vittorio Moretti.

He had disappeared after Vittorio's death.

Now he was moving through Boston, delivering cryptic messages, threatening children, and apparently providing information that might expose Richard.

His behavior was contradictory.

Unless Voss wasn't trying to help or harm them exclusively.

Unless he was doing both.

"He wants us to find something," Dominic said.

Adrian nodded.

"But he doesn't want to be the one who reveals it."

"Or he wants us to walk into a trap."

Marco's phone vibrated.

He checked the message.

Then looked up.

"Boss. My team identified the access account used to disable the terrace camera."

Dominic straightened.

"Who?"

"The credentials belonged to a former Moretti security administrator."

"Name?"

Marco hesitated.

"Peter Voss."

Dominic slowly looked at the key.

The same man who had warned Luca about Gabriel had apparently enabled an attempt to abduct Matteo.

"Find him," Dominic said.

Marco nodded.

"And this time," Dominic added, "I want him alive and talking."

At 1:18 p.m., Evelyn Hart requested a private conversation with Elena.

They sat in the conservatory overlooking the ocean.

Sunlight warmed the glass walls, but Elena felt cold.

Evelyn placed a thin folder on the table.

"I owe you an explanation."

Elena stared at her.

"You owe me six years."

The doctor lowered her head.

"Yes."

"Did you know Gabriel was alive?"

Evelyn hesitated.

"I suspected it shortly after the delivery."

Elena's eyes filled.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't have proof."

"You could have told me you were suspicious."

"I was afraid they would take the other children."

Elena laughed bitterly.

"Everyone keeps saying they were protecting my children. And somehow every one of them ended up helping Richard."

Evelyn accepted the accusation.

Then she opened the folder.

"There's something about Gabriel's medical history you need to understand."

Elena stiffened.

"What?"

"The neonatal records indicate that he experienced a significant period of oxygen deprivation and required intensive respiratory support."

"Does he have brain damage?"

"I can't determine that from these records alone. His current neurological status needs independent assessment."

Elena looked away.

"He's in a wheelchair."

"Yes."

"Will he ever walk?"

"I don't know."

The answer was painful, but Elena appreciated that Evelyn didn't pretend otherwise.

Then she noticed a photograph inside the folder.

It showed Gabriel standing beside a hospital bed.

Not sitting.

Standing.

He appeared younger, perhaps four years old.

Elena picked it up.

"When was this taken?"

"Approximately two years ago."

"He could stand?"

"At least when the photograph was taken."

Elena stared.

"Then why is he in a wheelchair now?"

Evelyn looked troubled.

"That's one of the questions I've been trying to answer."

Elena examined the photograph.

Gabriel held a stuffed rabbit.

His left hand gripped the bedrail.

He was smiling.

A small, uncertain smile.

But unmistakably real.

"Where did you get this?"

"From a former Bellwether nurse."

"Can we speak to her?"

Evelyn hesitated.

"She disappeared after contacting me."

Elena set down the photograph.

"Another person who disappeared."

Evelyn looked ashamed.

"I know how it sounds."

"Do you?"

Elena's voice grew sharper.

"My son has been hidden inside a medical facility for six years. A facility connected to your foundation. And every person who could explain his condition is either dead, missing, or afraid."

Evelyn closed her eyes.

"Bellwether wasn't always what it became."

"What was it supposed to be?"

"A research and charitable organization supporting children with complex developmental and neurological conditions."

"And what did it become?"

Evelyn looked toward the ocean.

"A place where the interests of wealthy families sometimes mattered more than the children."

Elena felt her stomach twist.

"Did they experiment on Gabriel?"

"I don't have evidence sufficient to say that. But I found treatment authorizations that appear to have been signed by guardians whose identities weren't properly verified."

Elena stood.

"Then we need him out."

Evelyn nodded.

"Yes."

"Today."

"I want that too."

Elena looked at her.

For the first time, she noticed how exhausted the older woman seemed.

But exhaustion wasn't innocence.

And regret wasn't redemption.

"Then stop protecting whoever you're protecting," Elena said.

Evelyn looked up sharply.

"What?"

"You keep holding something back."

The doctor went very still.

Elena continued.

"I can see it every time Dominic asks you about his father."

Evelyn's hands tightened around the folder.

"Elena—"

"What are you afraid he'll find out?"

The older woman's eyes filled.

"That Vittorio Moretti may have tried to save Gabriel."

Elena stared.

"What?"

Evelyn swallowed.

"And that Richard may not have been the person who prevented him."

At 2:06 p.m., Dominic received the first reliable information about the key.

Adrian had traced the manufacturer's code to a company supplying secure medical record cabinets.

The model had been discontinued seven years earlier.

Only a limited number had been sold in Massachusetts.

One shipment had gone to Bellwether's original neonatal research center.

"Where is that?" Dominic asked.

Adrian opened a map.

"A building in Brookline."

"Still operational?"

"No. It was closed after the foundation relocated its pediatric services."

"Who owns it now?"

Adrian glanced at his notes.

"Moretti Medical Investments."

Dominic gave a cold smile.

"Of course."

Marco leaned over the map.

"Security?"

"Private contractor. Current occupancy unclear."

Dominic studied the floor plan Adrian had obtained from municipal records.

The building was three stories tall with a basement archive area.

And one section was marked:

RESTRICTED RECORD STORAGE — UNIT 05

Dominic placed the silver key on the table.

"That's where we're going."

Adrian frowned.

"Not without legal access."

"I'm not planning to break in."

"Good. Because if evidence is inside, an unlawful entry could damage the case."

Dominic nodded.

"Contact the attorneys. Find out who can authorize a lawful inspection and preserve the records."

Marco looked surprised.

Dominic noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing, boss."

"Say it."

Marco hesitated.

"Your father wouldn't have waited."

Dominic stared at him.

Then glanced toward the staircase.

"No," he said quietly. "He wouldn't have."

At 3:44 p.m., Sloane arrived at Seabrook under Adrian's supervision.

Elena met her in the entrance hall.

For several seconds, the two women stared at each other.

Sloane looked exhausted.

Elena looked furious.

"You knew about my son."

Sloane lowered her gaze.

"Yes."

"For three years."

"Yes."

"And you sat across from Dominic at family dinners, knowing he had a child hidden somewhere?"

Sloane swallowed.

"I believed he knew."

Elena stepped closer.

"Did you believe that when Gabriel asked you whether his father had abandoned him?"

Sloane's expression crumpled.

"No."

Silence.

Then she whispered, "That's when I started looking for answers."

Elena studied her.

"Why didn't you come to me?"

"Richard told me you were dangerous."

Elena gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Me?"

"He said you were involved in a custody dispute. That you had threatened to expose Gabriel's location and interfere with his treatment."

"And you believed him?"

"At first."

Elena turned away.

Sloane continued.

"I know I can't undo what happened."

"No," Elena said. "You can't."

"But I can help you find him."

Elena looked back.

"Then tell us everything."

Sloane nodded.

"That's why I'm here."

In Dominic's study, Sloane placed a second flash drive on the desk.

"This contains internal Bellwether correspondence."

Adrian connected it to a secured computer.

Folders appeared.

Financial reports.

Board minutes.

Medical transport authorizations.

And a directory titled:

PROJECT LEGACY — CONFIDENTIAL

Dominic leaned forward.

"Open it."

Adrian clicked.

Inside were several documents dated seven years earlier.

One contained a proposed agreement between Vittorio Moretti and Charles Barrett.

Another described a complicated family trust arrangement.

And a third carried a heading that made Dominic's skin crawl.

BENEFICIARY IDENTITY MANAGEMENT

Adrian opened it.

The document described procedures for maintaining confidentiality around minors whose identities were connected to sensitive inheritance arrangements.

Several passages were redacted.

But one sentence remained visible.

Where multiple qualifying descendants exist, the identity of the designated beneficiary shall remain sealed until the prescribed verification date.

Dominic frowned.

"Why would the beneficiary's identity need to be concealed?"

Sloane shook her head.

"I don't know."

Adrian scrolled lower.

A handwritten annotation appeared beside a section discussing succession.

ONE CHILD MUST REMAIN OUTSIDE DIRECT PATERNAL CUSTODY.

Elena felt a chill.

"Gabriel."

"Possibly," Adrian said. "But we don't know whether the provision is legally valid, or whether this is even the final executed version."

Dominic looked at Sloane.

"Who wrote that annotation?"

She hesitated.

"My father."

Dominic leaned back.

Charles Barrett.

Again.

Then Adrian opened another file.

A scanned memorandum.

Its date was two weeks before Elena's emergency delivery.

The subject line read:

CONTINGENCY ARRANGEMENTS — MULTIPLE MALE INFANTS

Dominic stared.

"They knew Elena was carrying five boys."

Evelyn, standing near the doorway, nodded.

"Multiple births had been confirmed during prenatal imaging."

Adrian read the document silently.

His expression changed.

"What?" Dominic asked.

Adrian looked up.

"This says two separate infant identity transfers were considered."

Elena gripped the edge of the desk.

"Two?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Adrian continued reading.

"One transfer involved the designated beneficiary. The second involved an external guardianship arrangement."

Sloane went pale.

"Jonathan."

Dominic turned toward her.

"Your son?"

She nodded slowly.

Adrian scrolled.

Then stopped.

A table contained three entries.

INFANT E — DESIGNATED BENEFICIARY

INFANT D — GUARDIANSHIP REASSIGNMENT

INFANT J.B. — EXTERNAL PLACEMENT

No names.

Only identifiers.

Dominic stared at the table.

Gabriel.

Matteo.

Jonathan.

Three infant records.

Two proposed transfers.

And a family trust that appeared to depend on concealing at least one child's identity.

But the document did not prove which transfers had actually occurred.

"Look at the revision history," Adrian said.

He opened the file properties.

The document had been modified several times.

The final modification date was October 15.

The day after the children were born.

The author field contained a name.

C. BARRETT

Dominic felt his anger return.

Charles.

Sloane's father.

The man who had spent years smiling across dinner tables while concealing the existence of Dominic's fifth son.

"Where is your father?" Dominic asked.

Sloane swallowed.

"I don't know."

"Call him."

"He won't answer."

"Try."

She took out her phone.

Before she could dial, a message appeared.

Her face drained of color.

"What is it?" Dominic asked.

She turned the screen toward him.

The message came from Charles Barrett.

You were warned not to involve Dominic. Come home before I have to explain what really happened to Jonathan.

Sloane stared at the words.

Her hands shook.

Dominic looked at Adrian.

"Preserve that message."

Adrian nodded.

Then Sloane whispered, "He knows."

Dominic turned.

"Knows what?"

"That I've found the records."

"No," Elena said quietly.

Everyone looked at her.

Elena pointed toward the message.

"He knows you still care about Jonathan."

Sloane's eyes filled.

"And he's using that."

At 5:23 p.m., Luca found Dominic alone on the back terrace.

The ocean was dark beneath the gathering clouds.

Dominic stood with both hands on the railing.

He had spent the afternoon examining documents that treated children like entries in an accounting ledger.

Beneficiaries.

Transfer subjects.

Guardianship assignments.

Nowhere in those records was there any indication that someone had considered what the children might feel.

"Hey," Luca said.

Dominic turned.

"Hey, buddy."

The boy approached cautiously.

"Mom said you're working."

"I was."

"Are you mad?"

Dominic crouched.

"Not at you."

Luca studied him.

"At the bad man?"

"Yes."

The boy nodded.

Then he looked toward the ocean.

"Can I ask something?"

"Anything."

"Is Gabriel really my brother?"

Dominic felt his throat tighten.

"Yes. I believe he is."

"Where is he?"

"I'm trying to find him."

Luca frowned.

"Does he know about us?"

Dominic thought about the photograph.

The handwritten warning.

Please don't send Matteo back.

"I think he does."

Luca considered this.

"Is he lonely?"

Dominic swallowed.

"Maybe."

The boy looked troubled.

"Then we should get him."

Dominic's eyes burned.

"I'm working on it."

Luca reached for his hand.

"Can I help?"

Dominic smiled faintly.

"You already have."

"With the key?"

"Yes."

Luca nodded proudly.

Then his expression changed.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"The man in the gray coat said something else."

Dominic became still.

"What?"

"He said Gabriel remembers a song."

"A song?"

Luca nodded.

"A song Mom used to sing."

Dominic frowned.

"How would Gabriel know that?"

The boy shrugged.

"He said Gabriel sings it when he's scared."

Dominic thought about the photograph.

Gabriel's frightened eyes.

His trembling hands.

Then Luca began humming softly.

A simple melody.

A lullaby.

Dominic recognized it immediately.

Elena used to sing that song while working late at his apartment.

An old Italian lullaby her grandmother had taught her.

But Gabriel had been separated from Elena as a newborn.

There was no obvious reason he should know it.

Unless someone who knew Elena had taught it to him.

Or unless he had spent more time with his mother than the official records suggested.

Dominic placed a hand on Luca's shoulder.

"Who told the man about the song?"

Luca frowned.

"He said Gabriel told him."

Dominic felt a chill.

Peter Voss had spoken to Gabriel.

Recently enough to know what the child remembered or had learned.

And perhaps closely enough to know where Bellwether had moved him.

At 6:11 p.m., Adrian received a call from a former Bellwether employee.

The woman refused to provide her name.

She claimed to have worked in the residence where Gabriel had been photographed.

Adrian put the call on speakerphone with her permission.

"I can't talk long," she said.

Dominic leaned forward.

"Is Gabriel alive?"

"Yes."

Elena covered her mouth.

"Have you seen him?"

"Not since last week."

"Was he walking?"

A pause.

"Sometimes."

Dominic looked at Evelyn.

The doctor leaned closer.

"Was he receiving neurological treatment?"

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"I wasn't authorized to access all his records."

"Did he require a wheelchair?"

"Sometimes. He tired easily, but he could walk short distances when I knew him."

Elena began crying quietly.

Dominic asked, "Why did they move him?"

The woman hesitated.

"Because he learned something."

"What?"

"He found a restricted room."

Dominic became still.

"What room?"

"The old archives. They brought materials from the original Bellwether facility there."

Adrian looked at the silver key on the desk.

Unit 05.

"What did he find?" Dominic asked.

"I don't know everything. But afterward, he started asking questions about a boy named Matteo."

Elena stared.

"How did he know Matteo's name?"

The woman lowered her voice.

"He found photographs."

"What photographs?"

"Five babies. A woman in a hospital bed. And a man holding one of the children."

"Who was the man?"

"I don't know."

Dominic looked toward the portrait of his father on the study bookshelf.

"Was he older? Dark-haired?"

"I never saw the photograph clearly."

"Then what happened?"

The woman took a shaky breath.

"Gabriel started telling the staff that somebody had stolen his brother."

Elena covered her face.

"Did anyone believe him?"

"Most people thought he was confused."

"And you?"

"I saw how frightened he was."

Dominic leaned closer.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

"Who ordered the move?"

"Dr. Whitmore."

The pediatric neurologist.

"Under whose authority?"

"I don't know."

The woman hesitated.

Then added, "There's something else."

Dominic's pulse quickened.

"What?"

"Gabriel wasn't the only child transferred."

Silence.

"How many?" Adrian asked.

"Three."

"Who were the others?"

"I don't know their names."

"Where were they taken?"

The woman began breathing faster.

"I have to go."

"Wait," Dominic said.

"Please. If they discover I called—"

The line went dead.

At 7:02 p.m., Dominic received an email from an address Adrian had been monitoring.

The subject line was:

YOUR BROTHER REMEMBERED

Inside was a video attachment.

Adrian insisted on opening it using an isolated computer.

The recording showed Gabriel sitting at a small table.

He looked pale.

A white hospital bracelet encircled his wrist.

Someone behind the camera asked, "Gabriel, can you tell us what you saw?"

The boy hesitated.

Then nodded.

"There were pictures."

"What pictures?"

"Of babies."

"How many?"

"Five."

"Did you recognize anyone?"

Gabriel looked down.

"Me."

"How did you know?"

"Because my name was there."

"Who else?"

The child hesitated.

"Matteo."

Dominic leaned toward the screen.

The unseen adult asked, "How do you know Matteo?"

Gabriel's expression changed.

"He came to see me."

The room went silent.

Elena gripped Dominic's arm.

The voice behind the camera continued.

"When?"

Gabriel looked frightened.

"A long time ago."

"How long?"

The boy shrugged.

"Before I got sick."

Dominic frowned.

That didn't fit.

Matteo had lived with Elena his entire life.

There was no reason he would have visited a secret medical facility.

Unless someone had taken him there without Elena's knowledge.

The interviewer asked, "Who brought him?"

Gabriel began twisting his fingers.

"I don't want to say."

"Why?"

"Because he told me not to."

"Who did?"

Gabriel looked toward the camera.

Then whispered, "The man who looks like Daddy."

Dominic froze.

The man who looked like him.

Richard was Vittorio's younger brother and shared some family resemblance.

But Gabriel had never met Dominic, as far as Dominic knew.

Perhaps he meant Richard.

Perhaps someone had shown him photographs.

The interviewer asked, "What did the man do?"

Gabriel looked down.

"He said Matteo was supposed to stay with me."

Elena's face crumpled.

"Why?" the voice asked.

Gabriel hesitated.

Then whispered, "Because they got us mixed up."

The video ended.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Adrian leaned back.

"The recording is undated."

Dominic nodded.

"We can't assume when Matteo was supposedly there."

Elena stared at the blank screen.

"I never took Matteo to Bellwether."

"I believe you," Dominic said.

She looked at him.

"Then someone took him without telling me."

"Possibly. Or Gabriel was shown someone he believed was Matteo."

Adrian nodded.

"We need corroboration."

Dominic looked at the silver key.

The hospital records.

The missing footage.

The conflicting infant identities.

Every clue suggested that the children had been moved or mislabeled, but none yet established the full sequence.

And someone had designed the deception well enough that even the people who participated seemed to know only fragments.

At 8:36 p.m., Dominic confronted Evelyn again.

This time, Elena remained beside him.

"Gabriel said someone brought Matteo to Bellwether," Dominic said.

Evelyn looked startled.

"When?"

"We don't know."

"That's impossible."

Elena's expression hardened.

"People have been telling me impossible things for two days."

Evelyn lowered her gaze.

Dominic placed the silver key on the table.

"Unit Five. The old Bellwether archives."

Evelyn's face changed.

"You found the key?"

"Peter Voss gave it to Luca."

She stared at the object.

Then whispered, "Voss is still alive."

"You thought he was dead?"

"I hoped he had disappeared for good."

Dominic leaned forward.

"Why?"

Evelyn hesitated.

"Because Voss was responsible for transporting children between Bellwether facilities."

Elena's breath caught.

"Children?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I don't know."

Dominic watched her.

"And Unit Five?"

Evelyn looked frightened.

"That's where the original identity files were stored."

"Not the medical records?"

"Those too. But Unit Five held something else."

"What?"

"The unaltered intake photographs."

Dominic became still.

"Of all the babies?"

Evelyn nodded.

"And the original wristbands."

Elena stared.

"Then we can finally find out which baby was which."

"Possibly," Evelyn said. "If the archive hasn't been destroyed."

Dominic reached for the key.

"Then we get access."

Evelyn suddenly caught his wrist.

"Dominic, there's something you need to understand."

He looked at her.

"If those records are still there, Richard isn't the only person who will want them destroyed."

"Charles Barrett?"

She shook her head.

"Someone else."

"Who?"

Evelyn's lips trembled.

"The person who signed the original transfer order."

Dominic frowned.

"Richard signed the documents."

"Richard signed the amended order."

"Then who signed the original?"

Evelyn looked toward Elena.

And said nothing.

Elena slowly stood.

"Why are you looking at me?"

The doctor began to cry.

"Elena, I'm so sorry."

Dominic felt the room turn cold.

"What did you do?"

Evelyn shook her head.

"I thought I was protecting her."

"From what?"

"The truth about the delivery."

Elena stared at her.

"What truth?"

Evelyn reached into her folder.

She removed a sealed envelope.

Inside was a photocopy of a hospital consent form.

At the top were the words:

EMERGENCY NEONATAL TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION

The patient's name was Elena Rossi.

The date was October 14.

And beneath the authorization statement was a signature.

ELENA ROSSI

Elena stared.

"That's not my signature."

Evelyn swallowed.

"The hospital recorded it as yours."

"I was unconscious after surgery."

"I know."

Dominic looked at the form.

"What does the authorization allow?"

Evelyn hesitated.

"Transfer of two infants into temporary medical guardianship."

Elena stepped backward.

"Two?"

Evelyn nodded.

"Baby D and Baby E."

Matteo.

Gabriel.

Elena pressed a hand against her chest.

"Who signed this?"

Evelyn looked at Dominic.

Then whispered, "Your father ordered the signature placed on the form."

Dominic felt his stomach drop.

"But there's something worse."

Elena's voice shook.

"What?"

Evelyn closed her eyes.

"The original records show that when the hospital staff came to collect the children, Baby D was already missing from the neonatal unit."

Dominic stared.

"Missing?"

"Yes."

"Who took him?"

Evelyn began crying.

"We never found out."

Then she said the words that changed everything.

"Elena, the baby you brought home as Matteo may have been placed in your hospital room before the authorized transfer team ever arrived."

Dominic looked toward the staircase.

Matteo was upstairs, laughing with his brothers.

A happy six-year-old boy who had no idea that adults were arguing over his identity.

Elena gripped the table.

"Then where was my real fourth baby?"

Evelyn couldn't answer.

Before anyone spoke again, Dominic's phone vibrated.

A new message.

From Peter Voss.

It contained a photograph taken inside a dimly lit room.

Two six-year-old boys stood side by side.

Both had dark hair.

Both had familiar brown eyes.

One was Gabriel.

The other looked exactly like Matteo.

But he wasn't Matteo.

He wore a hospital identification bracelet.

And beneath the photograph was a single sentence.

Your fourth son never left Bellwether.

Dominic stared at the screen.

His breath stopped.

Because if the photograph was genuine, and the records were telling the truth, then somewhere inside Bellwether there might be another boy who had spent six years living under a stolen identity.

And the child Elena had raised as Matteo might belong to another mother.

A final message appeared.

You have forty-eight hours before they move both boys. Come to Unit Five if you want to learn which child was stolen—and which one was given away.