Chapter 8 - The Lie My Wife Left Behind
Claire had hidden one truth even from Emily
We escaped through an underground passage that opened behind an abandoned train station.
By the time we reached the street, Emily was shaking.
She had not released my hand.
Neither had I.
Maya was asleep against my shoulder.
Lena had survived the journey.
Daniel was bleeding from his arm.
Marcus appeared from a black sedan.
I had never been happier to see anyone.
"Where is Claire?"
I asked.
Nobody answered.
Marcus looked at Daniel.
Daniel said quietly,
"She stayed behind."
I stared at him.
"We are going back."
"Not yet."
"That's my wife."
Daniel shook his head.
"If she's alive, going back now gets her killed."
Emily was listening.
She looked at me.
"Mom always said you don't wait when someone is in danger."
I looked at my daughter.
"Your mother is right."
She nodded.
"Then let's save her."
We returned to New York under heavy security.
At the penthouse, Emily walked through rooms that felt like a museum of a childhood she no longer remembered.
She stopped at the fireplace.
There was still a small wooden horse.
I had bought it for her.
She touched it.
"I remember this."
I closed my eyes.
"You used to carry it everywhere."
"I called him Rocket."
"You did."
She smiled.
A tiny smile.
My first glimpse of the little girl I'd lost.
Then she noticed something behind the photograph.
"Aunt Lena?"
Lena approached.
Emily stared at her.
"You knew."
Lena froze.
"You knew he was alive."
Lena looked at me.
"Who?"
Emily's eyes filled with tears.
"My brother."
Silence.
I looked at her.
"You had a brother?"
She nodded.
"Mom said he was born after the accident."
My blood turned cold.
"What brother?"
"A baby."
Claire had never told me she was pregnant.
Ten years ago.
Before the accident.
If Claire was pregnant, the child would now be nine.
Lena started crying.
"Emily..."
"You promised Mom you would never tell him."
"Tell me what?"
Emily looked at me.
"His name is Noah."
My heart pounded.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
Lena closed her eyes.
"I haven't seen him in six years."
I stepped closer.
"Who has him?"
No answer.
Then my phone rang.
Victor.
I answered.
His voice was calm.
"You found Emily."
"Where is my wife?"
"Alive."
"Bring her to me."
"Give me Emily."
"No."
A pause.
"Then your son dies."
The room went silent.
Emily stared at me.
"My brother?"
Victor continued.
"You have one hour."
The call ended.
I stood motionless.
Nine years old.
Somewhere in New York.
Held by a man who had spent ten years controlling the truth.
Marcus immediately pulled up maps.
"We'll find him."
Daniel shook his head.
"Victor won't keep him at a predictable location."
"Then how do we find him?"
Emily answered.
"Mom knows."
We turned.
She was staring at the wooden horse.
"Mom hid things in places Daddy wouldn't look."
She opened the horse's base.
A tiny compartment clicked.
Inside was a memory card.
Daniel inserted it into a laptop.
A video appeared.
Claire.
She looked directly at the camera.
"Nathaniel, if you're watching this, Emily knows about Noah."
My throat tightened.
"I didn't tell you because I was afraid."
She paused.
"Noah is not your son."
Emily gasped.
I stared at the screen.
Claire continued.
"He is Victor's."
I could not breathe.
"Before you hate me, understand this."
She looked down.
"Noah was conceived before I married you."
The room disappeared.
Everything I knew about my marriage cracked apart.
Then Claire lifted her eyes.
"And Nathaniel..."
A tear rolled down her face.
"Victor is not Noah's father."
She took a breath.
"Your father is."
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then Emily whispered,
"That means Noah is..."
My phone received another message.
A photograph.
A nine-year-old boy.
May you like
And beneath it:
THE CROSS FAMILY TREE IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK.
