Chapter 8: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Arthur Pike stepped into the library as if he had been invited.
He closed the front door behind him.
Then he looked at Evelyn.
“You look tired.””
Evelyn stared at him.
“You're dead.””
Arthur gave a faint smile.
“That was the point.””
Harrison moved between Arthur and the rest of us.
“Arthur Pike, I'm placing you on notice that you are trespassing.””
Arthur barely glanced at him.
“You always did hide behind paperwork, Harrison.””
“Where have you been?””
“Alive.””
“For thirty years?””
Arthur's smile disappeared.
“For thirty years, I stayed where people like Evelyn couldn't find me.””
Evelyn's voice was low.
“I never stopped looking.””
“No,” Arthur said.
“You stopped looking when you received the photograph.””
My mother stiffened.
“What photograph?””
I looked at her.
“You know what he's talking about.””
Arthur turned toward me.
“Julian.””
I said nothing.
He held up the yellow hospital envelope.
“Before we continue, I want you to understand something.””
He pointed at Lily.
“That baby is in danger.””
Sarah instinctively moved backward.
“Who are you?””
Arthur looked at her.
“Your grandfather's former trustee.””
Sarah's eyes narrowed.
“You're one of the men who disappeared.””
“Yes.””
“You know about me?””
“I know everything about you.””
She held Lily tighter.
“Then stay away from us.””
Arthur's expression softened.
“I didn't come here to hurt you.””
“Then why are you here?””
“To finish what Thomas Bennett started.””
I stepped forward.
“You knew my father.””
Arthur nodded.
“He trusted me.””
“My mother says you were part of the group trying to control the trust.””
“She isn't entirely wrong.””
Evelyn snapped,
“Don't listen to him.””
Arthur looked at her.
“You still believe you can control this?””
She didn't reply.
I moved closer.
“Why did you fake your death?””
“Because someone wanted me gone.””
“Who?””
Arthur looked at Harrison.
“You've read the names.””
Harrison's jaw tightened.
“Vale. Pike. Cross.””
“My name is on that list.””
“Yes.””
“Then why should I trust you?””
“You shouldn't.””
The answer caught me off guard.
Arthur took another step.
“Trust the documents.””
He placed the yellow envelope on the desk.
“Not me.””
Harrison reached for it.
Arthur stopped him.
“Julian opens it.””
I looked at the envelope.
“What is inside?””
“The original Saint Agnes maternity report.””
Harrison stared.
“That report was destroyed.””
Arthur shook his head.
“No. It was hidden.””
“By whom?””
Arthur looked at Evelyn.
“She knows.””
My mother turned away.
I took the envelope.
It was heavier than it looked.
Inside was a stack of official papers and photographs.
The first page was dated November 3, 1996.
I read the names.
*Mother: Margaret Bennett.*
*Father: Thomas Bennett.*
Then a second entry.
*Mother: Claire Mercer.*
My breath caught.
Sarah stepped closer.
“That's my mother's name.””
I continued reading.
*Father: Unknown.*
Then a third.
*Mother: Anonymous.*
*Father: Unknown.*
A fourth.
*Mother: Evelyn Bennett.*
I looked up.
Everyone was silent.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Sarah whispered,
“You.””
Evelyn nodded.
Arthur said quietly,
“Four births.””
Harrison reached for the report.
“There should have been four separate infant IDs.””
“There were.””
“Why are there only three?””
“Because one was erased.””
I looked at the final entry.
“Which one?””
Arthur answered.
“Yours.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I laughed once.
“No.””
Arthur pointed to the fourth line.
“The hospital registered Evelyn's child as Baby Four.””
“My mother had a baby?””
Evelyn whispered,
“Yes.””
I looked at her.
“When?””
“That night.””
“Who was the father?””
She stared at the floor.
“Arthur.””
Every sound disappeared.
I looked at him.
“You're the father?””
Arthur nodded.
Sarah looked from him to Evelyn.
“Then the third child…”
“Is mine,” Evelyn said.
Arthur corrected her.
“Ours.””
I couldn't breathe.
“You two had a child.””
“Yes.””
“Where is she?””
Arthur's eyes hardened.
“That's why I'm here.””
Harrison examined the documents.
“There is no discharge record.””
“Because she was removed.””
“By whom?””
Arthur looked at Evelyn.
“She gave the order.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“I didn't know where they took her.””
“You knew enough.””
“I was told she died.””
“Just like you were told Margaret's child died.””
She flinched.
Arthur continued.
“Someone was cleaning the hospital records.””
I looked at the papers.
“Why would they hide your daughter?””
Evelyn answered before Arthur could.
“Because Arthur was not supposed to be the father.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“He was involved in the trust.””
Arthur interrupted.
“And Thomas wasn't the only one who discovered the fraud.””
I looked at him.
“You did too.””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you disappear?””
“Because Cross threatened my family.””
“And you left?””
“I thought I was protecting them.””
Arthur's voice became bitter.
“I was wrong.””
Sarah stepped forward.
“What happened to the baby?””
Arthur looked at her.
“She was taken by someone who claimed to be a nurse.””
“Do you know who?””
“We have a name.””
Harrison straightened.
“Who?””
Arthur's eyes moved to me.
“Claire Mercer.””
Sarah's face went completely still.
“My grandmother?””
“No,” Arthur said.
“Your mother.””
Sarah shook her head.
“My mother was at Saint Agnes.””
“Yes.””
“Why would she take a baby?””
“Because she thought the child was you.””
Sarah stared.
“I was the baby?””
“You were one of them.””
“But the record says I was born to Claire.””
“Another record does.””
Arthur spread the pages across the desk.
There were fingerprints, signatures, and handwritten corrections.
“Your mother gave birth to a girl.””
Sarah's lips parted.
“And someone switched two babies.””
Arthur nodded.
“Your mother was told her baby died.””
Sarah's eyes filled with tears.
“So I wasn't raised by my mother because…”
“Because Evelyn took the wrong child.””
Evelyn whispered,
“I thought I was saving Sarah.””
Arthur corrected her.
“You thought you were saving your own daughter.””
The entire room went silent.
My mother looked at me.
“I didn't know.””
Arthur said nothing.
I stared at Evelyn.
“You thought Sarah was your child?””
“I knew she was Margaret's granddaughter.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
Evelyn wiped away a tear.
“I thought the baby I took was connected to me.””
“But she wasn't.””
“No.””
Sarah's voice was quiet.
“Then whose baby am I?””
Arthur placed another photograph on the desk.
A young Claire Mercer stood beside a hospital crib.
Written on the back:
*Elizabeth — 2:14 a.m.*
Sarah touched the photograph.
“That name…”
Harrison nodded.
“Elizabeth Margaret Bennett.””
The name from the vault.
Sarah stared at her own face as a newborn.
Then she looked at Evelyn.
“You didn't know who I was.””
“No.””
“You stole me anyway.””
“I was trying to save you.””
Sarah shook her head.
“You didn't know me.””
“I knew enough.””
“No. You knew a child. Not me.””
Evelyn began crying.
Sarah turned away.
I stood beside her.
Arthur watched us.
“There is still one child unaccounted for.””
I looked at him.
“Lily.””
“No.””
My stomach tightened.
“Then who?””
Arthur pointed toward the original maternity report.
“Your father wrote a note beside Baby Four.””
Harrison read it.
“*Do not let Evelyn know the child is mine.*”
He looked up.
“Julian…”
I stared.
“My father wasn't writing about himself.””
“No,” Arthur said.
“He was writing about you.””
I couldn't speak.
Arthur took a final photograph from the envelope.
It showed my father standing in a hospital corridor.
Beside him was Margaret.
In front of them stood a nurse.
And in the nurse's arms was a newborn boy.
The back of the photograph read:
*Julian, November 3, 1996.*
My hands shook.
“That's me.””
Arthur nodded.
“According to the photograph.””
“Then why does the document say I was never supposed to survive?””
“Because the men controlling the trust needed you gone.””
Harrison stared at the photograph.
“Where was the boy sent?””
Arthur looked directly at me.
“That is the question we have spent thirty years trying to answer.””
A loud noise came from upstairs.
Glass breaking.
Sarah jumped.
Arthur immediately turned toward the ceiling.
“Someone else is in the house.””
I moved toward the stairs.
Arthur grabbed my arm.
“Wait.””
“You said Lily is in danger.””
“Yes.””
“Then I'm going up there.””
“No.””
“Let go.””
Arthur's voice became urgent.
“They want the baby.””
Sarah rushed toward the nursery.
“Lily!””
We all followed.
The nursery door was closed.
Sarah grabbed the handle.
Locked.
“Julian!””
I slammed my shoulder against it.
Once.
Twice.
The door burst open.
The crib was empty.
Sarah screamed.
“No!””
The window was open.
Lily's pink blanket lay on the floor.
A note was taped to the crib.
I tore it down.
Three words were written across it.
*COME ALONE, JULIAN.*
Beneath them was an address.
Saint Agnes Hospital.
Arthur took the note from me.
His face drained of color.
“What?””
He looked at the clock.
“They knew we'd find this.””
Harrison picked up the blanket.
“Where is Sarah's daughter?””
Arthur stared at the open window.
Then he whispered,
“They didn't take Lily.””
I turned.
“What?””
“They took the wrong baby.””
Sarah froze.
Arthur looked at her.
“Someone came here believing they were taking the fourth child.””
His eyes moved to the photograph in my hand.
“They were looking for you, Julian.””
My heart stopped.
Then, from somewhere outside the house, a baby's cry echoed through the rain.
Not from the nursery.
From the garden.
Sarah ran toward the window.
I followed.
At the edge of the property, a black car was disappearing through the gates.
And in the rear window, for one brief second, I saw a tiny pink blanket.
But as the car turned onto the road, another figure stepped out from behind the trees.
A woman.
She looked up at me.
Then she raised her hand.
In it was the hospital bracelet from the photograph.
She mouthed one name.
May you like
“Emma.””
And disappeared into the darkness.
