Chapter 5 - THE CHAPEL ABOVE THE OCEAN
Thomas called again at midnight.
He told me to come alone to an abandoned chapel near the Oregon coast.
Claire fitted me with a wire.
Daniel wanted to go.
I refused.
“You have done enough.”
The words broke something in him.
I drove through rain for ninety minutes.
The chapel stood above black water.
Candles burned inside.
Thomas waited near the altar.
He was sixty-eight.
Gray-haired.
Thin.
Alive.
Beside him was an infant warmer.
Sophia’s daughter lay beneath a clear cover, breathing through a small oxygen tube.
My knees nearly failed.
Thomas raised one hand.
“Do not touch her.”
“She needs a hospital.”
“She needs surgery.”
“Then why is she here?”
“The hospital would identify her.”
I stared at the man I once loved.
“You built this.”
“I corrected a broken system.”
“You stole children.”
“I placed them where they had the best chance.”
“You decided who deserved them.”
“Someone had to.”
The arrogance was familiar.
I had once called it certainty.
Thomas explained that the network began as illegal adoption help for desperate mothers.
Then wealthy families paid for secrecy.
Doctors joined.
Lawyers joined.
Hospitals learned to erase records.
Thomas became indispensable.
His staged death protected the operation.
“Why Daniel?” I asked.
“Because he is my son.”
“You abandoned him.”
“I watched him.”
“You trained him.”
“I gave him choices.”
“No. You taught him that children are solutions.”
The baby stirred.
I stepped closer.
Thomas raised a syringe.
“One move and the transfer ends badly.”
My blood ran cold.
“What is in that?”
“A sedative.”
“For a newborn?”
“Enough.”
Claire’s team waited outside.
I needed to move him away from the infant.
I asked about the heart defect.
Thomas explained that Sophia’s daughter carried a rare genetic marker found in my family line.
A biotechnology company wanted long-term access to children with the mutation.
“You turned our family into inventory.”
“You benefited from the money.”
“I never knew.”
“You never asked.”
The accusation was cruel.
It was also true.
I had accepted comfort without examining where it came from.
Then a side door opened.
Daniel entered.
He had followed despite orders.
Thomas smiled.
“I knew you would come.”
Daniel looked at the baby.
Then at his father.
“You’re alive.”
“Yes.”
Daniel began crying.
For one second, he was eight years old again.
Thomas stepped forward.
“My son.”
Daniel struck him.
The syringe fell.
Claire’s team rushed in.
Thomas grabbed the infant warmer.
The wheels rolled toward the edge of the platform.
I lunged and caught it.
Daniel tackled Thomas.
Security restrained him.
The newborn cried.
I lifted her carefully.
“She’s alive,” I whispered into the wire.
Thomas laughed from the floor.
“You found one.”
Claire turned.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas looked at Daniel.
“Sophia delivered twins.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
Hospital imaging was reopened.
The scans had been altered.
Sophia had carried two girls.
Leah had carried the boy.
Three babies were born that night.
One boy.
Two girls.
Only two had been found.
May you like
The second daughter was still missing.
And Thomas refused to say where she was.
