Chapter 10 - The Caldwell SecretRichard Caldwell’s letter was fourteen pages long.
Sophie backed away.
“That’s impossible.”
Elena remained calm.
“The probability of paternity is greater than ninety-nine-point-nine percent.”
“No.”
Sophie looked at Ethan.
He seemed equally stunned.
“That cannot be right.”
Elena held out the report.
“It is.”
Ethan did not take it.
“Run it again.”
“We already did.”
“Different laboratory.”
“Ethan—”
“Different samples. Independent lab.”
“Elena said the result is accurate,” Sophie snapped.
“I know what she said.”
“Then explain it.”
He stared.
“I can’t.”
Sophie looked furious now.
“Those babies were conceived eight months ago.”
“Yes.”
“I hadn’t seen you in five years.”
“I know.”
“You were in Chicago.”
“Yes.”
“I was in Indianapolis.”
“I know.”
Daniel watched from near the incubators.
Rachel quickly intervened.
“Why don’t Danny and I go find the snack room?”
Daniel looked suspicious.
“Is this grown-up complicated stuff?”
Rachel smiled.
“Very.”
“Okay.”
They left.
Sophie turned back to Ethan.
“I want an explanation.”
“So do I.”
Then suddenly both stopped.
There had been one night.
Eight months earlier.
A medical charity gala in Indianapolis.
Sophie had been working for a catering company temporarily.
Ethan had attended as keynote speaker.
They had seen each other.
Only briefly.
Or so Sophie remembered.
Her face changed.
“The St. Vincent gala.”
Ethan went pale.
“You were there.”
“I served your table.”
“I saw you across the ballroom.”
“You came into the service hallway.”
“To talk.”
“You were drunk.”
“So were you.”
“I had two glasses of wine.”
“You were crying.”
“You had just given a speech praising your father.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
He remembered more now.
Sophie had confronted him near the loading dock.
She told him Richard had destroyed her life.
Ethan, already carrying suspicions about the falsified financial leak, had tried to apologize.
She had slapped him.
Then cried.
Then he had cried too.
There was a hotel bar afterward.
A storm delayed flights.
Sophie’s catering shift ended.
They talked.
For hours.
Ethan whispered, “Room 814.”
Sophie stared.
“No.”
“You remember.”
“No.”
“I do.”
Her eyes filled with panic.
Fragments returned.
An elevator.
Ethan giving her his jacket.
Sophie telling him she had once waited eleven weeks for him to come after her.
Ethan saying he had hated himself every day.
A kiss.
Then another.
Then a hotel room.
Sophie sat down.
“Oh my God.”
Ethan looked equally shaken.
“We…”
“Yes.”
“I thought that was a dream.”
“So did I.”
“How do two adults mistake an entire night for a dream?”
“You left before I woke.”
“I woke in another room.”
“What?”
Sophie pressed her fingers to her temples.
“My supervisor found me asleep in one of the catering suites downstairs.”
Ethan frowned.
“I woke alone.”
“I thought I’d imagined everything because I was exhausted.”
“We weren’t that drunk.”
“No.”
Something darker entered the conversation.
Ethan looked at her.
“Did you feel strange that night?”
Sophie froze.
“Yes.”
“Dizzy?”
“Yes.”
“Memory gaps?”
“Yes.”
Ethan went cold.
“Me too.”
Elena frowned.
“You think someone drugged you?”
“I don’t know.”
Sophie’s breathing changed.
“Andrew was there.”
Ethan looked at her sharply.
“What?”
“He worked for one of the event sponsors.”
“Did he know you?”
“Not yet.”
“When did you start dating him?”
“Three weeks later.”
The pieces began moving.
Too quickly.
Andrew appeared after the gala.
Sophie discovered she was pregnant six weeks later.
Andrew immediately assumed paternity.
Sophie assumed it too because she believed the night with Ethan had never happened.
“What if he knew?” Sophie whispered.
Ethan’s eyes hardened.
“Knew what?”
“That I’d been with you.”
Elena stepped forward.
“Before we speculate, we need evidence.”
Ethan looked toward the NICU doors.
“My father was dead by then.”
“Yes,” Sophie said.
“So who would care whether we reunited?”
Neither answered.
Then Ethan remembered Martin’s warning.
Richard’s organization was larger than Richard.
Executives.
Lawyers.
People whose careers depended on keeping old secrets buried.
And Daniel was still alive.
If Ethan and Sophie reunited, perhaps someone feared they would reopen the past.
Andrew’s sudden entrance into Sophie’s life might not have been coincidence.
Elena’s phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Her expression darkened.
“We need to move Sophie and Daniel.”
“Why?” Ethan asked.
“Andrew’s attorney just requested an emergency restraining order.”
“On what grounds?”
“He claims Ethan has used his position as Sophie’s physician to manipulate her into denying Andrew access to the twins.”
Sophie laughed bitterly.
“Unbelievable.”
“That isn’t the dangerous part.”
“What is?”
Elena looked at Ethan.
“They included copies of Sophie’s psychiatric records.”
Sophie went still.
“My what?”
“They allege you were treated for severe depression after your miscarriage and therefore may be emotionally unstable.”
“My therapy records are private.”
“Yes.”
“How did they get them?”
No one answered.
Sophie whispered, “Richard.”
Ethan shook his head.
“He’s dead.”
“But his people aren’t.”
The court hearing was scheduled for the next morning.
Sophie spent the night in a hospital family room with Daniel asleep beside her.
Ethan sat outside the door.
At two in the morning, Sophie stepped into the hallway.
“You’re still here.”
“Yes.”
“You have a home.”
“So do vending machines. I’m developing a relationship with one.”
She sat beside him.
For a while, they said nothing.
Then Sophie asked, “Do you regret it?”
“The gala?”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at her.
“No.”
“You barely remember it.”
“I remember enough.”
“I don’t.”
“I remember you telling me you never stopped loving me.”
Sophie looked away.
“That sounds inconvenient.”
“I remember telling you the same thing.”
She gave a quiet laugh.
“Also inconvenient.”
“I remember kissing you.”
Her cheeks colored.
“That part is becoming clearer.”
“And I remember asking you if you were sure.”
She looked at him.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“You told me to stop talking.”
“That sounds like me.”
“It does.”
Silence.
Sophie looked through the glass toward the NICU.
“So Lily and Noah are yours.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“All three.”
Ethan’s voice cracked.
“All three.”
She shook her head.
“This is insane.”
“It is.”
“You became a father three times in five days.”
“Four days.”
“Stop being precise.”
“Occupational hazard.”
She smiled despite herself.
Then grew serious.
“I don’t know what this means for us.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything yet.”
“For them, it means everything.”
“Yes.”
“You’re their father.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll have rights.”
“I don’t care about rights.”
“You should.”
“I care about responsibility.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It isn’t.”
He turned toward her.
“I missed Daniel’s first word.”
Sophie’s expression softened.
“Truck.”
“I missed his first steps.”
“Eleven months.”
“I missed his first day of school.”
“He cried for ten minutes and then told Margaret she could leave.”
Ethan smiled sadly.
“I missed everything.”
“You didn’t know.”
“But now I do.”
He looked toward the NICU.
“I won’t miss anything else voluntarily.”
Sophie studied him.
“You mean that.”
“Yes.”
“Even if I never forgive you?”
“Yes.”
“Even if we never get back together?”
His face tightened, but he answered.
“Yes.”
That mattered more than any declaration of love.
Sophie leaned her head back against the wall.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m starting to forgive you.”
He stopped breathing.
“Don’t make me regret saying it.”
“I won’t.”
“You probably will.”
“Statistically possible.”
She laughed.
Then their hands touched between them.
Neither moved away.
For several minutes, they simply sat there.
Two people who had lost five years.
Three children who had somehow brought them back into the same hallway.
And a past that was still not finished with them.
At sunrise, Martin arrived carrying another box.
“This came from Richard’s personal safe.”
Ethan frowned.
“I thought we emptied everything.”
“So did I.”
Martin placed a handwritten envelope on the table.
Ethan recognized his father’s handwriting.
Across the front were four words:
FOR ETHAN — AFTER DANIEL
Sophie stared.
“Daniel?”
Ethan opened it.
Inside was a letter written two months before Richard’s death.
Ethan read the first line.
Then stopped.
“What?” Sophie asked.
He handed it to her.
She read aloud.
Ethan, if you are reading this, then someone has discovered the boy, and everything I did to keep him hidden has failed.
Sophie’s face went white.
She continued.
You will hate me. You should. But before you decide I stole your son out of cruelty, you need to understand one thing.
Her voice trembled on the final sentence.
Daniel was never the child I was trying to protect from Sophie.
She looked at Ethan.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan unfolded the second page.
And found a name neither of them recognized.
Victoria Caldwell.
May you like
Ethan’s sister.
A sister he had never known existed.
