PART 4
I stared at the message.
I NEVER TOLD YOU WHO NOAH REALLY IS.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
The courtroom seemed to shrink around me.
The rain hit the boarded windows.
Mr. Foster pressed one hand against his bleeding shoulder.
Agent Collins kept her gun pointed toward the door.
And Noah stood beside me, completely silent.
I looked at him.
He looked back at me.
Six years old.
Small.
Confused.
Terrified.
But there was something else in his eyes now.
Something I’d never seen before.
Recognition.
“Who is Noah?” I whispered.
Nobody answered.
Then Mark knocked again.
Three slow knocks.
“Sarah.”
His voice sounded almost calm.
“You need to hear me.”
Collins shook her head.
“Don’t listen to him.”
Mark laughed softly from the other side.
“Agent Collins.”
She froze.
“You really shouldn’t be pretending anymore.”
Collins tightened her grip on the gun.
Mark continued.
“Tell Sarah what happened in Room 312.”
Collins’ face went pale.
I looked at her.
“What is Room 312?”
She didn’t answer.
Mark laughed again.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No,” I said.
“Of course she didn’t.”
I stepped toward the door.
Collins grabbed my arm.
“Don’t.”
“What happened in Room 312?”
“Sarah, you don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked at Mr. Foster.
He was staring at the floor.
“You know too,” I said.
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I pulled my arm away from Collins.
“Everyone seems to know something except me.”
Noah tugged at my sleeve.
“Aunt Sarah.”
I knelt.
“What?”
He whispered:
“Mommy said not to tell you until the man with the scar came.”
My heart stopped.
“What man?”
Noah pointed toward the courtroom doors.
“The man outside.”
A cold sensation moved through my body.
I looked at Mark’s silhouette beneath the door.
“Mark?”
Noah shook his head.
“No.”
He whispered:
“Not Daddy.”
The courtroom fell silent.
I looked at Collins.
“Who is outside?”
She didn’t answer.
Then the lights went out.
Again.
Someone screamed in the hallway.
A gunshot followed.
Then another.
Mr. Foster grabbed Noah.
“Stay down!”
I dropped behind the judge’s bench.
Collins moved toward the door.
“Don’t open it!” I shouted.
She stopped.
A shadow moved beneath the gap.
Slowly.
Then disappeared.
We waited.
Nothing.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Finally, Collins whispered:
“They’re gone.”
I stood.
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“The people we’ve been trying to stop for six years.”
“Westbridge?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
She swallowed.
“The people who created Westbridge.”
She walked toward the judge’s bench.
Her face had changed.
The confidence was gone.
What remained was exhaustion.
Fear.
And something that looked dangerously close to guilt.
“You need to understand something, Sarah.”
“I’m listening.”
“The financial operation wasn’t the real investigation.”
“What was?”
She looked at Noah.
“The children.”
My stomach twisted.
“What children?”
“Children whose identities were altered.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because some people needed certain children to disappear.”
“Disappear from where?”
“Everywhere.”
She lowered her voice.
“Birth records. Medical records. School records. Government databases.”
I felt sick.
“And Noah?”
Collins nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Noah wasn’t supposed to exist under his current identity.”
I looked at the little boy standing beside Mr. Foster.
“But he’s Noah.”
“That’s the name your family knows.”
I shook my head.
“You’re not making sense.”
Collins reached into her coat.
She pulled out a file.
The cover was old.
Brown.
Stamped with a red number.
312.
My eyes locked onto it.
“Room 312.”
She nodded.
“Exactly.”
She opened the file.
Inside were photographs.
Documents.
Birth certificates.
Medical records.
Names.
Dozens of them.
Some had been crossed out.
Some had been replaced.
Then I saw one photograph.
A baby.
Wrapped in a white blanket.
The date was six years ago.
Underneath it was a name.
NOAH REYNOLDS.
I stared at the photograph.
“That’s him.”
Collins nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
She turned the page.
The name underneath the next photograph was different.
ELIAS REYNOLDS.
Same birthday.
Same hospital.
Same mother.
Different child.
I looked at Collins.
“What am I looking at?”
“Two birth records.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if someone changed the records.”
“Why would they?”
Collins looked at Noah.
“Because the original child died.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“What?”
“Noah Reynolds died six years ago.”
I shook my head violently.
“No.”
“Sarah—”
“No.”
I looked at Noah.
He was staring at us.
Alive.
Breathing.
Standing right there.
“No.”
Collins continued.
“The child you’re raising as Noah is legally registered as Noah Reynolds.”
“Legally?”
“Yes.”
“But biologically…”
She stopped.
“Biologically, he isn’t Noah Reynolds.”
The room went silent.
I couldn’t hear the rain anymore.
Couldn’t hear anything.
Only Noah’s breathing.
I turned toward him.
He looked frightened.
“Who am I?” he whispered.
Nobody answered.
Then a sound came from the hallway.
A man’s voice.
Not Mark.
Not Collins.
Not Foster.
A stranger.
“His name is Elias.”
Noah looked toward the door.
The man’s voice continued.
“And I’m his father.”
The courtroom door opened.
A man stepped inside.
Tall.
Thin.
Dark hair.
A scar ran from his left temple down toward his jaw.
The scar Noah had described.
The man with the scar.
I stared at him.
Collins raised her gun.
“Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
Mr. Foster whispered:
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Daniel smiled.
“I was.”
He looked at me.
“Sarah.”
I couldn’t move.
“You’re Daniel Reynolds.”
He nodded.
“I owe you an explanation.”
I pointed at Noah.
“Is that your son?”
Daniel looked at the boy.
His eyes filled with emotion.
“Yes.”
Noah stared at him.
“Are you my daddy?”
Daniel’s expression broke.
He slowly lowered himself to one knee.
“I am.”
Noah didn’t move.
“Mommy said you were gone.”
“I know.”
“She said you couldn’t come home.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked at Emily’s message on my phone.
Then at me.
“Because your mother made a deal.”
“What deal?”
Daniel stood.
“A deal to keep you alive.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about Emily.
My sister.
My best friend.
The person I’d trusted more than anyone.
She had sent Noah to me.
She had warned me about Mark.
She had left clues.
She had hidden the blue envelope.
And now Daniel was telling me she had made a deal.
“What did she do?”
Daniel looked at Collins.
“Tell her.”
Collins shook her head.
“No.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“You don’t get to decide anymore.”
Collins looked away.
Daniel turned to me.
“Emily agreed to testify.”
“Against Westbridge?”
“No.”
“Then against who?”
Daniel said:
“Against someone much closer to you.”
I felt a chill.
“Who?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a photograph.
Then handed it to me.
I looked down.
It showed Emily.
Pregnant.
Standing outside a hospital.
Beside her was Mark.
And beside Mark was another woman.
I recognized her immediately.
My mother.
I dropped the photograph.
“No.”
Daniel caught it before it hit the floor.
“Sarah.”
“My mother died before Noah was born.”
“I know.”
“Then why is she in this picture?”
Daniel stared at me.
“Because your mother wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked at Mr. Foster.
“Tell her.”
Mr. Foster shook his head.
“I can’t.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“You already lied to her.”
Mr. Foster’s face hardened.
“Some truths destroy people.”
Daniel replied:
“So do secrets.”
Noah suddenly screamed.
Everyone turned.
He was staring at the photograph.
“That’s her!”
I rushed to him.
“Who?”
He pointed at the woman beside Mark.
“My grandma.”
My entire body went cold.
“Where did you see her?”
Noah looked confused.
“At Mommy’s house.”
“When?”
“Before we came here.”
“Did she talk to you?”
He nodded.
“What did she say?”
Noah’s eyes filled with tears.
“She told me to forget my name.”
I stared at Daniel.
“What is happening?”
Daniel looked at Collins.
“We’re out of time.”
“Why?”
He pointed toward the courthouse windows.
“Because they know we’re here.”
A distant siren sounded.
Then another.
Collins checked her phone.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“The police are surrounding the building.”
“Good.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t call them.”
Mr. Foster whispered:
“They did.”
Daniel nodded.
“Exactly.”
I looked around the courtroom.
“Then what do we do?”
Daniel walked toward the judge’s bench.
He pressed his hand against the wooden panel.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a small black device.
He pulled it out.
“This is what they want.”
“What is it?”
“The original database.”
I frowned.
“What database?”
“Every identity they changed.”
I stared at him.
“How many?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Thousands.”
The courthouse doors shook.
Someone was trying to break through.
Collins moved toward the exit.
“There’s a tunnel beneath the building.”
Mr. Foster shook his head.
“They’ll know about it.”
“Then we don’t use the tunnel.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Where do we go?”
He stared at Noah.
“There’s another way.”
“Where?”
“The hospital.”
My stomach dropped.
“What hospital?”
“The one where Noah was born.”
“Why?”
Daniel answered quietly:
“Because that’s where the original records are.”
“And what will we find there?”
He looked directly at me.
“The truth about your mother.”
We ran.
Down a narrow staircase.
Through a maintenance corridor.
Behind a wall that opened into an underground passage.
Noah held my hand.
Daniel walked ahead.
Collins stayed behind us.
Mr. Foster followed, still bleeding.
Nobody spoke.
Until Noah asked:
“Daddy?”
Daniel stopped.
“What?”
“Why did Mommy lie?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Because she thought lying would keep you alive.”
“Did it?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Until now.”
We kept moving.
The tunnel opened behind an abandoned train station.
A black SUV was waiting.
We climbed inside.
Daniel drove.
Rain blurred the windshield.
I sat in the back with Noah.
Collins sat beside me.
Mr. Foster was in the passenger seat.
For several minutes, nobody said anything.
Then I asked:
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“Who is the real enemy?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said:
“The person who knew exactly where you would run.”
I looked at him.
“Meaning?”
“Someone has been predicting every move you’ve made.”
“How?”
“Because they know you.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
Daniel looked at me through the rearview mirror.
“Your sister.”
I felt my heart sink.
“Emily?”
He nodded.
“Emily isn’t being hunted.”
I stared at him.
“She’s helping them.”
I wanted to believe he was wrong.
I wanted to scream at him.
But then my phone vibrated.
A message.
From Emily.
I opened it.
There was a photograph.
A live photograph.
Emily was sitting in a dark room.
Her hands were tied.
Her face was bruised.
Behind her stood a man.
I recognized him.
Mark.
Underneath the photograph was a message.
THEY MADE ME DO IT.
Another message appeared.
I’M SORRY.
Then a third.
BUT IF YOU WANT NOAH TO LIVE, BRING DANIEL TO THE HOSPITAL.
I stared at the screen.
Daniel saw my face.
“What happened?”
I showed him.
He pulled the SUV to the side of the road.
For the first time since I’d met him, Daniel looked genuinely afraid.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“Emily is supposed to be dead.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He took the phone from my hand.
He studied the photograph.
Then zoomed in on the background.
A metal door.
A clock.
A white wall.
And a small sign.
Room 312.
Daniel whispered:
“They found her.”
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“The people who killed Noah’s original identity.”
Then he looked at the photograph again.
His face went pale.
“Sarah…”
“What?”
“The photograph was taken today.”
I felt cold.
“How do you know?”
He pointed at the clock.
“The time.”
I looked.
11:47.
Daniel checked his watch.
It was 11:48.
He stared at me.
“They’re still there.”
“Then we go there.”
“No.”
“That’s my sister.”
“And that’s exactly why it’s a trap.”
I shook my head.
“I’m going.”
Daniel looked at Noah.
Then at me.
Finally, he started the engine.
“Then we do this my way.”
Twenty minutes later, the hospital appeared through the rain.
The same hospital where Emily had given birth.
The same hospital where Noah’s records had been changed.
The same place where Daniel claimed the original records were hidden.
We parked behind the emergency entrance.
Daniel handed me a small flashlight.
“Stay with Noah.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going inside.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Sarah, there are people in that building who have been waiting six years for this moment.”
“Then you’re not going alone.”
Collins stepped forward.
“I’m going with him.”
Mr. Foster shook his head.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
He pointed toward the hospital.
“There is another entrance.”
“Where?”
“The maternity wing.”
I stared at him.
“How do you know?”
He didn’t answer.
I understood immediately.
“You’ve been here before.”
He nodded.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“Why?”
His voice became barely audible.
“Because I was there the night Noah disappeared.”
Nobody moved.
I stared at him.
“You were there?”
Mr. Foster nodded.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Noah wasn’t Noah.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Daniel was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my mother was involved.”
His silence answered.
I stepped toward him.
“What else do you know?”
He looked at me.
Then said:
“Your mother wasn’t Noah’s grandmother.”
I felt the world tilt.
“What?”
Mr. Foster whispered:
“She was the person who ordered the identity change.”
I couldn’t speak.
Noah was standing behind me.
Daniel closed his eyes.
Collins lowered her weapon.
And somewhere inside the hospital…
a baby began crying.
A baby.
At midnight.
In a hospital that had no maternity ward anymore.
We all heard it.
Daniel looked at the building.
“That’s impossible.”
The crying continued.
Louder.
Closer.
Then my phone vibrated.
One final message from Emily.
SARAH, WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T GO TO ROOM 312.
I looked at the hospital.
Then at Daniel.
Then at Noah.
And realized the worst part.
We were already standing outside Room 312.
And someone had just opened the door from the inside….
