Chapter 4 - The Dead Man’s NameDaniel Cross had been declared dead on a rainy night in October.
Car accident.
Immediate death.
No witnesses.
No funeral open to the public.
No photographs.
Just a closed coffin.
He had been my former fiancé.
And he had once promised me that if anything happened to him, I should never trust the Vale family.
Marcus knew almost nothing about him.
I had told Marcus Daniel was a painful chapter of my past.
Nothing more.
Now his name was sitting in my hospital room.
Written on a strip of paper hidden inside Isabella’s red heel.
Room 814 was three floors above us.
The hospital said the room had been vacant for two months.
Marcus wanted security to accompany him.
I wanted answers.
So we went together.
The hallway was dark.
Room 814 stood at the end.
The door was locked.
The hospital administrator used a master key.
Inside, there was nothing.
No bed.
No furniture.
Only a metal cabinet.
Marcus opened it.
A blue folder sat inside.
My hands started shaking.
The folder contained photographs.
Hundreds.
Me.
Marcus.
Evelyn.
Isabella.
Daniel.
Some photographs were recent.
Some were years old.
Someone had been following us.
At the back was a list of dates.
Every hospital appointment I had attended.
Every ultrasound.
Every blood test.
Every time Marcus left work.
Then I saw one date circled in red.
The day of my wedding.
Underneath it were three words.
THE TRANSFER.
Marcus looked at me.
“What transfer?”
I didn't know.
Then he found a USB drive.
He plugged it into an old hospital computer.
A video appeared.
Daniel Cross was sitting in front of a camera.
Alive.
My knees almost gave out.
Daniel looked thinner than I remembered.
But it was him.
He stared directly into the lens.
“Khloe, if you're seeing this, I failed to stay dead.”
Marcus looked at me.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“I didn't die in that crash.”
I covered my mouth.
“The crash was staged because I found out what the Vale family was doing.”
Marcus stepped away from the screen.
“My family?”
Daniel nodded in the recording.
“They run a private reproductive program using falsified medical records.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“They take pregnancies, alter identities, and use wealthy families as legal parents. They call it legacy protection.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“The mother is usually told she is carrying her husband's child.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Then he said,
“But sometimes she is carrying someone else's.”
Marcus whispered,
“Why?”
Daniel answered before the question left his mouth.
“Money.”
The video flickered.
Daniel looked toward the door.
“If Evelyn discovers I recorded this, she'll come after Khloe.”
The video paused.
Then restarted.
Daniel’s face was bruised.
“I made a mistake.”
He held up a document.
“The baby isn't the problem.”
He looked directly into the camera.
“The real secret is whose DNA they used.”
Marcus stared.
The video ended.
The computer displayed one final file.
DNA_ORIGIN_FINAL.
We opened it.
The file contained a genetic sequence.
At the top was a name.
Marcus Vale.
Below it was another.
Daniel Cross.
I stared at the screen.
Marcus's face turned pale.
The result showed that the embryo used in my pregnancy had been created from two donors.
One was Marcus.
The other was Daniel.
But that was not the worst part.
The maternal record listed someone else.
Not me.
A third name.
A woman named Claire Mercer.
Marcus whispered,
“Who is Claire Mercer?”
I shook my head.
I had never heard the name.
Then the door behind us clicked shut.
We turned.
Nobody was there.
A voice came from the speaker system above us.
“Now you know enough.”
Marcus moved toward the door.
The lock clicked.
“Let us out!”
The voice continued.
“But you still don't know whose child you're carrying.”
Then the ventilation system released a sharp hiss.
I suddenly felt dizzy.
Marcus caught me.
May you like
The last thing I heard before everything went black was a woman's voice whispering through the speaker.
“Welcome back, Khloe.”
Related Stories
