Chapter 3 - THE GRAVERain began before sunrise.
By eight o'clock, Damian Caruso stood beneath an umbrella at Green-Wood Cemetery watching three cemetery workers uncover the grave of a child supposedly buried two years earlier.
Elena stood beside him.
She hadn't slept.
Neither had he.
A judge had signed the emergency exhumation order at 4:17 a.m., largely because Julian Cross knew exactly which legal arguments would move fastest when kidnapping evidence was involved.
Damian hadn't interfered.
For once.
Official channels mattered now.
If Sofia had been stolen at birth, Damian needed proof that couldn't disappear inside somebody's private safe.
The small coffin came out of the earth at 8:43.
Elena covered her mouth.
Damian stepped closer.
An investigator from the district attorney's office watched while the funeral home director broke the seal.
The lid opened.
Nothing.
No remains.
No ashes.
No baby.
Only a folded hospital blanket.
Elena collapsed to her knees.
Damian caught her under the arms.
She laughed once.
A horrible, broken sound.
“I cried over an empty box.”
Damian didn't know what to say.
“I visited every Sunday.”
Her hands dug into the wet grass.
“Every birthday. Christmas. Mother's Day.”
“Elena.”
“I talked to nobody.”
“You talked to your daughter.”
“She wasn't here!”
“No.”
The rain covered her tears.
“She was with me.”
The words silenced both of them.
Damian looked toward Sofia.
She waited inside an SUV with her nanny.
His daughter.
Elena's daughter.
Maybe both.
The DNA results arrived that afternoon.
Julian entered Damian's penthouse carrying the envelope.
Elena stood immediately.
Damian remained seated.
He didn't trust his legs.
“The lab tested three separate samples,” Julian explained. “Sofia's saliva, Elena's sample, and the preserved newborn blood sample found in Teresa Moretti's hospital box.”
“Just say it,” Elena whispered.
Julian looked at her.
“Probability of maternity exceeds 99.99 percent.”
Elena closed her eyes.
Damian felt something inside him crack.
Julian continued.
“Sofia Caruso is Elena Moretti's biological daughter.”
Silence.
Then Sofia wandered into the room carrying a stuffed rabbit.
She saw Elena.
“Mama.”
The word was softer now.
Almost certain.
Elena dropped to her knees.
Sofia ran toward her.
Elena gathered her into her arms.
Damian looked away.
He had faced men with guns without blinking.
This hurt more.
Because there was nobody to fight.
No enemy standing directly in front of him.
Only the truth.
Elena kissed Sofia's hair.
“My baby.”
Damian stood and walked toward the window.
He heard every word.
“My sweet baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
Sofia touched Elena's face.
Then she turned toward Damian.
Her small hand reached for him.
“Da.”
Damian froze.
Elena stared.
Sofia smiled.
“Da.”
Two words.
Mama.
Da.
Damian crouched.
She reached both arms toward him.
Elena hesitated.
Then released her.
Sofia climbed into Damian's arms.
He buried his face in her hair for a moment.
When he looked up, Elena was watching him differently.
Not like the monster she'd expected.
Like another parent who had been deceived.
“We're not taking her from you tonight,” Elena said.
Damian studied her.
“We?”
“You think I'm going to walk into a courtroom tomorrow and demand a terrified two-year-old be ripped away from the only father she's ever known?”
His shoulders loosened slightly.
“But understand something.”
Elena stepped closer.
“I lost two years.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
“I lost Victoria.”
“She stole my daughter.”
“We don't know that.”
“You showed me the photograph.”
“Victoria may have been involved. That doesn't prove—”
“She brought my baby home!”
Damian's voice rose.
“And died three months later!”
Sofia flinched.
Both stopped instantly.
Damian lowered his voice.
“Victoria told me she gave birth in another wing of St. Agnes.”
“There'd be records.”
“There are.”
Julian spoke.
“Apparently legitimate ones.”
Elena looked at him.
“What?”
“Victoria Caruso was admitted under a private maternity arrangement. Medical records show delivery by emergency C-section at 1:34 a.m.”
“What time was Sofia actually born?”
Julian consulted the documents.
“1:31.”
Three minutes.
Elena stared.
“So somebody created a second birth.”
“Exactly.”
“Who signed the certificate?”
“A Dr. Samuel Keene.”
Damian's face changed.
Elena noticed.
“You know him.”
“He delivered Sofia.”
Julian looked up.
“And died six months later.”
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
Damian shook his head.
“That's what they said.”
Marco entered.
“We found something else.”
He connected a tablet to the television.
Security footage appeared.
St. Agnes Hospital.
November 14, two years earlier.
The video quality was poor.
A corridor.
A nurse pushing an infant bassinet.
Timestamp: 1:47 a.m.
Elena leaned forward.
“Who's that?”
Marco paused the recording.
“Teresa Moretti.”
Elena's mother.
She pushed the bassinet into an elevator.
Inside waited Victoria Caruso.
Elena stood.
“No.”
The elevator doors closed.
Marco advanced the video.
At 2:03 a.m., Teresa emerged alone.
Elena stared at the screen.
“My mother gave Victoria my baby.”
Nobody answered.
Then Damian's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Caruso.”
A man's voice spoke.
“You opened the grave.”
Damian signaled Marco to trace.
“Who is this?”
“You should've left the dead alone.”
“Where is Teresa?”
The voice laughed.
“Ask Elena why her mother stole the baby.”
Elena stepped closer.
Damian put the phone on speaker.
“Let my mother go.”
“Oh, Elena.”
Her blood chilled.
“You sound exactly like your father.”
Elena turned pale.
Damian saw it.
“Who is this?” she whispered.
“You really don't remember me?”
A pause.
“I remember you.”
Elena's breathing stopped.
Damian looked at her.
The voice continued.
“Your daughter was never meant for Caruso.”
Another pause.
“She was meant for me.”
The line disconnected.
Marco cursed.
“Burner phone.”
Damian stared at Elena.
“You know him.”
She backed away.
“Elena.”
Her eyes filled with fear.
“My daughter's father didn't disappear.”
May you like
Damian waited.
“He tried to kill me.”
Related Stories
