Chapter 20 - The Third Baby in the Delivery Room

The third baby had been in Sophia Sterling's delivery room for less than eleven minutes before someone removed every trace of its existence.

That was the first thing Sophia discovered when a hidden medical file appeared on her phone.

The second was far worse.

According to the file, the infant had been registered as dead before Sophia's labor had even ended.

Sophia stood frozen inside Room 106 of Blackwood House, staring at the timestamp.

02:06 A.M. — Neonatal Death Recorded.

02:17 A.M. — Infant Transfer Completed.

Eleven minutes.

An official death entered into the hospital system before a living infant was transported elsewhere.

Margaret Hale leaned closer.

"Where did that document come from?"

Sophia shook her head.

"Alexander sent it."

"Before the call disconnected?"

"Apparently."

Margaret examined the screen carefully.

"It may be an exported hospital record, but the timestamps alone don't establish whose baby this was."

Sophia barely heard her.

Alexander Mercer's final words still echoed in her mind.

There were three babies in your delivery room.

She had spent eight years believing she had given birth to one child.

Then she discovered Toby and Emily.

Now someone was claiming a third baby had been present.

Another child.

Another death certificate.

Another life concealed behind the walls of Saint Catherine's.

Sophia looked toward Caroline.

Her sister stood beside Samuel, who was quietly examining the small silver key he had carried for years.

"Caroline, you gave birth around the same time I did."

Caroline nodded slowly.

"Yes."

"Do you remember the exact date?"

Caroline's expression changed.

"April seventeenth."

Sophia stopped breathing.

Her own children had been born on April seventeenth.

The same day.

The same hospital network.

The same physician.

"Where?" Sophia whispered.

"Saint Catherine's private maternity wing."

Julian turned sharply.

"What?"

Caroline looked at him.

"Charles arranged my delivery there."

Sophia felt her stomach tighten.

"Was your baby born before mine?"

Caroline hesitated.

"I don't know. I was heavily medicated afterward."

Sophia looked down at the document.

A terrible possibility began forming.

Perhaps there hadn't been three babies born to her.

Perhaps there had been three babies inside the same delivery suite because Charles had arranged two deliveries at nearly the same time.

Toby.

Emily.

Samuel.

Three infants.

Two mothers.

And one medical team capable of changing every record.

"Margaret," Sophia whispered, "what if Alexander meant three babies were present, not that I delivered three?"

Margaret nodded.

"That's a critical distinction."

Caroline stared at Sophia.

"Samuel was there?"

Sophia looked toward the little boy.

He was eight.

His appearance resembled Toby's.

His birth had been concealed.

And Charles had told Caroline he died shortly after delivery.

For the first time, the pieces seemed to fit without requiring Sophia to have secretly given birth to another child.

But one question remained.

Why had Charles brought Samuel into Sophia's delivery room?

At the Manhattan police station, Toby was refusing to leave Daniel's side.

A child-protection officer had arrived to arrange temporary accommodations, but the boy had become distressed when she mentioned another facility.

"No."

His voice was small but determined.

Daniel crouched beside him.

"Toby, nobody is punishing you."

The child shook his head.

"I don't want another home."

"I understand."

"They always say it's temporary."

Daniel's chest tightened.

Toby continued.

"Then they lock the doors."

Daniel looked toward the officer.

"He's had traumatic experiences in residential care. We need to make sure any arrangement is safe and explained to him."

The officer nodded.

"We can coordinate with the investigating team and explore an appropriate placement that keeps his family connections in mind."

Toby gripped Daniel's sleeve.

"Can I stay with Mommy?"

Daniel swallowed.

"That's what we're trying to arrange."

The boy looked down.

"Does she still want me?"

Daniel felt a painful ache.

"More than anything."

Toby considered that.

Then he whispered, "Even if Samuel looks like me?"

Daniel's expression changed.

"Of course."

"But if he looks the same, maybe Mommy won't know which one is me."

Daniel crouched lower.

"Toby, look at me."

The child raised his eyes.

"Your mother isn't going to love you because you look a certain way."

Toby frowned.

"Then why?"

"Because you're you."

The boy remained silent.

Daniel continued.

"You're the boy who saved crackers for later. The boy who shared his food with Samuel. The boy who kept Emily's ribbon even when you had almost nothing."

Toby's eyes filled with tears.

"That's me."

Daniel nodded.

"Exactly."

The boy suddenly threw his arms around him.

Daniel closed his eyes.

For the first time since discovering his own hidden identity, he understood something Richard Whitmore had never managed to teach him.

A family was not made real by a document.

But documents could still be used to destroy one.

And somewhere in Blackwood House, Sophia was fighting to recover the truth those documents had concealed.

Inside Room 106, Margaret connected with an investigator who had obtained access to archived Saint Catherine's records.

The records were incomplete, but several original entries had been preserved in an independent backup.

Margaret reviewed the summary while Sophia watched.

"Two deliveries were scheduled that night," Margaret said.

Sophia felt her pulse quicken.

"Mine and Caroline's?"

"Yes."

Caroline covered her mouth.

Margaret continued.

"Your delivery was recorded first. Two live infants, one male and one female."

Sophia closed her eyes.

Toby and Emily.

The truth she had fought so desperately to establish.

Then Margaret looked at Caroline.

"Your delivery is recorded several hours earlier, but some timestamps conflict with the surgical and recovery notes."

Caroline's hands began shaking.

"Was my baby alive?"

Margaret read the entry.

"A male infant was delivered alive."

Caroline began crying.

Samuel slowly looked up.

"Was that me?"

The room fell silent.

Caroline turned toward him.

For a moment, she couldn't speak.

Then she knelt.

"We're trying to find out, sweetheart."

Samuel studied her face.

"Did you want your baby?"

The question broke her.

"Yes."

"Then why did they take him?"

Caroline covered her mouth.

Sophia stepped closer.

"Because some adults made terrible decisions. Not because the baby did anything wrong."

Samuel lowered his eyes.

He seemed to consider that.

Then he looked at Caroline again.

"If I am your baby, can I still be Samuel?"

Caroline began sobbing.

"Yes."

The boy nodded.

"Good."

He returned to his chair.

For him, that answer seemed more important than any inheritance, bloodline, or legal document.

Sophia watched him.

A child who had spent his life being told to become someone else.

And all he wanted was permission to keep his own name.

Julian was standing beside the window when Sophia approached.

His face was exhausted.

He had not spoken much since Helena revealed that Thomas Sterling was the biological father of both him and Daniel.

Now another layer of the hospital conspiracy was emerging.

"Did you know Caroline gave birth at Saint Catherine's?" Sophia asked.

Julian turned.

"No."

"Did you know she was pregnant?"

"No."

Sophia studied him.

"Did you ever have a relationship with her?"

Julian shook his head.

"I barely knew her at university."

"Then how could her son be biologically related to you?"

Julian looked toward the documents.

"Charles had access to samples from the Sterling family."

Sophia nodded slowly.

"Alexander said biological material was used without the donors' knowledge."

Julian's expression darkened.

"If that's true, Charles may have used my genetic material without my consent."

Sophia looked away.

She did not know what to feel.

Anger.

Disgust.

Pity.

All three.

She remembered Julian holding her while she mourned Toby.

The same man who had knowingly concealed their children's survival.

Now he might also have been exploited by Charles's fertility program.

Two things could be true.

Julian could have been victimized.

And Julian could still be responsible for the harm he inflicted on Sophia.

"Whatever happened," she said quietly, "we need independent testing."

Julian nodded.

"I agree."

Sophia looked directly at him.

"And you must tell investigators everything you know."

He lowered his head.

"I will."

She watched him for another moment.

Then turned away.

She wasn't ready to forgive him.

Perhaps she never would be.

But the truth mattered more than either of their feelings.

In a secluded house outside Albany, Alexander Mercer was bleeding from a wound above his eyebrow.

He sat on the floor beside an overturned chair, breathing heavily.

Across from him stood Charles Voss.

The doctor wore a dark coat and leather gloves.

His silver hair was neatly combed.

His expression was almost painfully calm.

"You shouldn't have contacted Sophia," Charles said.

Alexander pressed a hand against his injury.

"She's my daughter."

Charles smiled faintly.

"That's what you believe."

Alexander looked up.

"I know what happened in that laboratory."

"Do you?"

"I know Eleanor carried the twins."

Charles's expression hardened.

"And I know you altered the paternal records."

Charles stepped closer.

"You're remembering events selectively."

Alexander laughed bitterly.

"Twenty-seven years, Charles. That's how long you've been hiding what you did."

The doctor said nothing.

Alexander continued.

"You used the fertility program to gain control over families who trusted you."

Charles lowered his eyes.

"I created a confidential system for people who needed protection."

"You created a market for false identities."

Charles's jaw tightened.

Alexander leaned forward.

"You told Eleanor her daughters were at risk. You told Richard the Vale family wanted to abduct them. You told Victor that Richard had stolen his child."

Charles remained silent.

"And every one of them paid you to solve a danger you helped create."

For several seconds, Charles didn't move.

Then he quietly answered.

"You have no idea what those families would have done without me."

Alexander stared at him.

"They did terrible things with you."

Charles's expression changed.

He looked toward a black medical case resting on the table.

Alexander followed his gaze.

Inside were several labeled sample tubes and an encrypted storage device.

Alexander felt cold.

"The original records."

Charles said nothing.

Alexander continued.

"You kept them."

"Of course."

"Why?"

Charles looked almost offended.

"Because information is the only thing that survives when powerful people decide to rewrite history."

Alexander stared.

"And you believe that makes you better than them?"

Charles closed the case.

"No."

For the first time, his voice sounded tired.

"It makes me the man who knows what really happened."

Alexander struggled to stand.

"Then tell Sophia."

Charles looked toward the door.

"She's already discovered enough."

"Not enough."

Charles turned.

Alexander's voice hardened.

"She still doesn't know why you placed Samuel in her delivery room."

The doctor stopped.

A long silence followed.

Then Charles whispered, "Because the original transfer plan failed."

Alexander felt sick.

"What plan?"

Charles looked at him.

"The trust required a surviving male descendant recognized by Sophia."

Alexander stared.

"And you intended to give her Samuel?"

Charles did not answer.

Alexander's voice rose.

"You were going to replace Toby before she ever knew he existed!"

Charles looked away.

Alexander took a step forward.

"Then what happened?"

The doctor's expression darkened.

"Martha."

Alexander froze.

Charles continued.

"She refused to surrender Toby."

"She saved him."

"She complicated everything."

Alexander stared at him in horror.

Charles looked toward the case.

"When the separation arrangement became unstable, we needed another solution."

Alexander felt cold.

"Samuel."

Charles nodded.

"The boy was already biologically connected to the Sterling line according to our records. He resembled Toby closely enough to support a substituted identity."

Alexander's expression twisted.

"You treated those children like interchangeable objects."

Charles remained silent.

Then Alexander asked the question that had haunted him for years.

"What did you do to the baby registered dead at 2:06?"

For the first time, Charles Voss looked frightened.

Back at Blackwood House, Sophia noticed another inconsistency in the archived records.

The third infant's death entry had been created at 2:06 a.m.

But Caroline's delivery record placed her son alive in neonatal care before midnight.

Sophia frowned.

"Margaret, look."

The retired detective approached.

"What?"

"If Samuel was born several hours before my delivery, why was another infant recorded dead at 2:06?"

Margaret examined the timestamps.

"That suggests the third entry may refer to a separate identification record, not necessarily a third distinct child."

Sophia's heart pounded.

"Then we need to know which child it belongs to."

Margaret nodded.

She contacted the investigator again.

While they waited, Sophia studied the neonatal transport log.

Three identification codes appeared.

N-0417-A.

N-0417-B.

N-0417-C.

The first two corresponded to Toby and Emily.

The third was unfamiliar.

Sophia compared the codes against Caroline's delivery record.

Samuel had originally been assigned another number.

N-0416-S.

A different code.

A different date.

Sophia slowly looked up.

"Margaret."

The detective turned.

"What?"

"Samuel's original identifier doesn't match the third baby."

Margaret examined the screen.

Her expression changed.

"You're right."

Sophia felt the blood drain from her face.

"Then who was N-0417-C?"

Margaret searched the archive.

A missing record warning appeared.

IDENTITY RESTRICTED.

Sophia's heartbeat accelerated.

Another missing child.

Another hidden entry.

But this time, she refused to jump to conclusions.

"Could the code have been a duplicate?" she asked.

"Possibly. We need the original admission and transport documents."

Sophia nodded.

Then she noticed a small icon beside the restricted entry.

A linked attachment.

She clicked.

A scanned bracelet appeared.

It was pale green.

Across its surface were printed the words:

BABY C — FEMALE.

Sophia stopped breathing.

A girl.

The third infant was recorded as female.

She looked toward Caroline.

Then toward Eleanor.

Both women appeared stunned.

Margaret examined the image.

"The bracelet could represent an actual child, but we still need to establish where the identification originated."

Sophia barely heard her.

A fourth document appeared.

A transport authorization.

The destination field had been obscured.

But the signature remained visible.

Evelyn Carter.

Sophia felt cold.

Victoria Vale.

Victor's daughter.

The nurse who had helped Toby find Sophia.

The woman who claimed to be investigating Charles from within.

Her signature was attached to the third infant's transfer.

Sophia immediately called her.

Victoria answered after several rings.

"Sophia?"

"Who was Baby C?"

Silence.

Then Victoria whispered, "Where did you find that?"

"Saint Catherine's records."

Another silence followed.

Sophia's voice hardened.

"Victoria, I am looking at a transfer authorization bearing your name."

Victoria began breathing heavily.

"That wasn't supposed to survive."

Sophia felt cold.

"Who was the baby?"

Victoria did not answer.

"Was she mine?"

A long pause followed.

Then Victoria whispered, "I don't know."

Sophia closed her eyes.

"Then what do you know?"

Victoria's voice trembled.

"Baby C was transferred under an emergency protection order."

"To where?"

"Rosehaven."

Caroline suddenly stood.

"Rosehaven?"

Victoria continued.

"The same facility where Caroline was raised."

Sophia felt sick.

"What happened to the infant?"

Victoria began crying.

"I was told she died."

Sophia's pulse thundered.

"Did you see her die?"

"No."

"Did you see a death certificate?"

"No."

Sophia closed her eyes.

Another child declared dead without reliable confirmation.

Victoria continued.

"Years later, I found evidence she might have survived."

Sophia froze.

"What evidence?"

"A childhood photograph."

Sophia's heart pounded.

"Show me."

Victoria hesitated.

Then a message arrived.

An image appeared on Sophia's phone.

A little girl approximately seven years old stood outside a residential facility.

She wore a white dress.

Her dark hair was tied with a red ribbon.

Sophia stared.

The child looked familiar.

Not identical to Emily.

But close enough to make Sophia's breath catch.

"Who is she?"

Victoria's voice broke.

"Her name was Lily."

Sophia felt cold.

"Was?"

Victoria began crying.

"She disappeared from Rosehaven a year ago."

Sophia stared at the image.

Then she noticed someone standing behind the girl.

A woman.

Long dark hair.

A pale blue coat.

A silver bracelet with three sapphires.

Sophia's stomach tightened.

"Eleanor?"

Her mother approached.

She looked at the photograph.

Then went completely still.

Sophia turned sharply.

"Mother?"

Eleanor's hands began trembling.

"No."

Sophia stared.

"You know her."

Eleanor slowly covered her mouth.

For several seconds, she couldn't speak.

Then she whispered:

"I thought she was safe."

Sophia felt the world tilt.

"Who?"

Eleanor looked directly into her daughter's eyes.

Her voice broke.

"Lily."

Sophia's heart thundered.

"Is she my child?"

Eleanor began crying.

"I don't know whether she's biologically yours."

Sophia stared.

"Then why did you hide her?"

Eleanor closed her eyes.

"Because Charles told me she was the child who could expose Project Mirror."

Sophia felt cold.

"What does that mean?"

Eleanor looked toward the photograph.

Then whispered:

"Lily wasn't hidden because of who her parents were."

Sophia's pulse quickened.

"Then why?"

Eleanor's voice became barely audible.

"She was hidden because she remembered what happened to the children who disappeared."

A silence followed.

Then Sophia's phone vibrated again.

A new message appeared.

This time, it contained a recent photograph.

The same girl.

Older now.

Standing beside a bus station.

And holding a handwritten sign.

MY NAME IS LILY. I KNOW WHERE TOBY'S SISTER IS.

Sophia stared at the image.

Emily was safe.

So who was Lily talking about?

Before Sophia could speak, another message arrived.

THE GIRL YOU FOUND AT WILLOWBROOK IS NOT THE GIRL WHO LEFT SAINT CATHERINE'S WITH TOBY.

Sophia's blood turned to ice.

She slowly turned toward Eleanor.

"Mother..."

Eleanor began shaking her head.

Sophia's voice broke.

"Who is Emily?"