Chapter 5
1011 Words
The message lights up my screen. "Find Margaret."
Julian reads over my shoulder.
"Who's Margaret?"
"I don't know." I try calling back. Dead. Disconnected.
Of course.
We're in Julian's study. The fire crackles but the warmth doesn't reach me. Cold seeps through the old windows. The photo of Elena and the baby sits on the desk between us. Staring. Accusing.
Six years before their marriage. Alex confirmed it at the cabin.
"How do you hide a whole child?" I ask.
"I don't know." Julian stares at the photo. "I never saw Elena pregnant. Never saw her with a baby."
"Could it be a relative's child?"
"Look at those eyes. That's my blood."
He's right. Deep gray eyes stare out from an infant's face. Julian's eyes.
"Who knew you before you married Elena?"
"My family. Close friends. Nobody mentioned a baby."
"Could it be yours from before?"
Julian goes still. His jaw tightens.
"I wasn't exactly a saint before Elena. But I was careful. Always."
"Careful isn't the same as impossible."
He doesn't argue.
The fire pops. A log shifts in the hearth. Sparks fly.
"I need to look into closed adoption agencies," I say.
"Why?"
"Because that baby came from somewhere. If Elena wasn't the mother, someone else gave birth."
"Then that someone is who Elena was protecting."
"Or hiding from."
I pull out my laptop. The keys are cold under my fingers. Julian's secure Wi-Fi hums through the walls.
"Any agencies you know of that the Blackwoods used?"
Julian's face darkens. Shadows cross his eyes.
"My father had connections everywhere. Law firms. Medical practices. If he wanted something buried, he knew people."
"Is he still alive?"
"No. Heart attack. Three years ago."
"Convenient timing."
"Nothing about my father was convenient."
I start searching. Old adoption agencies. Ones that closed around when the baby would have been born.
Two hours of digging. My eyes burn from the screen.
I find twelve that shut down in the relevant window. But one catches my eye.
"Hope's Promise Adoption Services."
Julian leans in. "What about it?"
"It closed in 2019. Same year as the cabin photo. But the address is familiar."
He grabs a map. Spreads it across the desk. Paper crinkles.
"Where?"
I point to a road. "Shady Grove Lane."
His hand stops moving.
"That's Blackwood land."
"What?"
"The whole road. Part of the family trust. My grandfather donated it."
"For the agency?"
"For a women's shelter. It never opened. The project fell through."
I dig deeper. Public records. Business filings. Tax documents.
"Look at the board members."
Julian reads over my shoulder. His breath catches.
"Marcus Webb."
"Your driver?"
"My father's driver. Marcus Webb."
The name from Elena's note. "If I disappear, look at Marcus."
"Your father employed someone connected to this agency?"
"Marcus has been with the family for thirty years."
"And he never mentioned it?"
"Why would he?"
I scroll further. More names appear. My heart pounds.
"Arthur Blackwood."
Julian's father.
"Lydia Webb."
Marcus's wife.
"Elena Vance."
Julian goes white. His hands grip the desk edge.
"Elena was on the board?"
"Before she married you. Six years ago. Look at the dates."
He reads them. His hands shake.
"She was involved before we even met."
"Which means she knew about the baby. About the agency. About everything."
"Before she became my wife."
We stare at each other. The air between us goes heavy.
This isn't just a secret child.
This is a conspiracy.
"She married you on purpose," I whisper.
Julian doesn't answer.
"Your father was on the board. Marcus was connected. Elena was connected. The only person who wasn't part of this was you."
"I was the mark."
It's not a question. He already knows.
"What happened at that agency? Why shut it down and walk away?"
Julian picks up the photo. His thumb traces the baby's face.
"That's what we need to find out."
My phone buzzes.
Same unknown number.
"Stop digging. Last warning."
I show Julian.
He doesn't blink.
"The text earlier told us to find Margaret."
"Yes."
"Whoever sent it wants us to find her."
"But now they're warning us off."
"Because we're getting close."
"To what?"
Julian holds up the photo.
"To why this baby was hidden."
I search deeper. Archived files. Dusty records.
"Hope's Promise had a license revocation in 2019."
"For what?"
"Improper record keeping. Falsified documents."
"Who filed the complaint?"
"Anonymous."
"Convenient."
"Very."
I dig into the complaint. Find the original file.
"Filed by Blackwood and Associates."
"Your father's firm."
"Your father filed a complaint against his own agency?"
"Why would he do that?"
"To shut it down. To bury the records."
Julian sits back. The chair creaks.
"He knew someone was looking."
"Elena."
"She was on the board. She could have exposed everything."
"So your father shut it down first. Destroyed the paper trail."
"But Elena already had copies."
"The photos. The birth certificate."
"She hid them."
"And someone killed her before she could use them."
The fire crackles. Smoke curls in the air.
"Who knew Elena had the evidence?"
"Everyone. Marcus. Alex. My father."
"Your father is dead."
"His network isn't."
I close my laptop. The screen goes dark.
"We need to find Margaret Webb."
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"She's Marcus's wife."
"She was on the board. She knows what happened."
"Marcus might be watching her."
"Then we'll be careful."
Julian stands. Paces. His footsteps echo on the hardwood.
"If my father shut down the agency to protect the secret, and Elena had evidence, and someone killed her for it..."
"Then the killer wanted the secret buried forever."
"Someone who's still alive."
"Someone close."
We look at each other. The weight of it settles between us.
"It could be anyone."
"It could be."
"But we're going to find out."
Julian nods slowly. Resolve hardens his face.
"First thing tomorrow. Margaret Webb."
I check my phone. No new messages.
But I feel them coming.
Another warning. Another clue.
The night stretches long.
I don't sleep.
I wait for the next piece.
Someone out there is helping us.
And someone else wants us dead.
- Writer
