Chapter 8 - Harper couldn't stop staring at the birth certificate.The room seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
“No.”
Gabriel took the paper from her.
He read it again.
Then a third time.
“Derek's mother.”
Harper's voice trembled.
“Then who was Rachel?”
“Your adoptive mother.”
“And my father?”
“Your adoptive father.”
She shook her head.
“All my life…”
Gabriel looked at her.
“They lied to you to protect you.”
“From Derek?”
“From everyone.”
Harper backed away.
She couldn't think.
Her entire childhood had become a story written by strangers.
Gabriel opened another file.
Inside were photographs.
A woman.
Young.
Beautiful.
Standing beside a man Harper recognized.
Derek.
His younger self.
The woman's name was Evelyn Lawson.
The records showed she had worked for Black Wolf.
Harper looked at Gabriel.
“Why would my biological mother give me away?”
“She didn't.”
“What?”
Gabriel turned the page.
“She was murdered.”
Harper stared.
“By whom?”
“Unknown.”
“Then how did Rachel get me?”
Gabriel found another document.
The adoption was illegal.
No court approval.
No hospital record.
No official birth registry.
Only a handwritten agreement.
Harper's name had been replaced with another.
For years, she had technically never existed.
“Why?” she whispered.
Gabriel looked at the sealed files.
“Because someone wanted you erased.”
A phone rang.
Victor.
Gabriel answered.
“Talk.”
“We found something.”
“What?”
“Derek's bank records.”
Gabriel listened.
Then his expression darkened.
“How much?”
Victor gave him a number.
Harper couldn't hear it.
Gabriel said:
“Follow the money.”
Then he hung up.
“What?”
“He's receiving payments from someone.”
“Who?”
“We don't know yet.”
Gabriel opened another folder.
Inside was a list.
Payments.
Dates.
Names.
One name appeared again and again.
A. Vale.
Harper frowned.
“Who is A. Vale?”
Gabriel went silent.
Then he said:
“I don't know.”
She looked at him.
“You said you knew everyone.”
“Not everyone.”
“Who could hide that much money?”
Gabriel's eyes hardened.
“Someone with government access.”
Noah suddenly spoke.
“I know that name.”
Both turned.
“How?”
Noah pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket.
“I found it in Dad's old stuff.”
Harper took it.
The note contained one sentence.
Never trust A. Vale.
Gabriel looked at Noah.
“Where did you find this?”
“In your sister's old box.”
Harper stared.
“My what?”
Noah realized his mistake.
He looked at Gabriel.
“Sorry.”
“What did you just say?”
Noah swallowed.
“I found a box with Harper's childhood things.”
“When?”
“Before Dad died.”
Harper's heart pounded.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
Noah looked at Gabriel.
“You.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Me?”
“No.”
Noah shook his head.
“Dad told me never to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
Noah's eyes filled with tears.
“He said if Gabriel Ashford ever found Harper, everyone would die.”
Silence.
Gabriel's face went cold.
“Your father knew me.”
“Noah,” Harper whispered, “did Dad know Gabriel before tonight?”
Noah nodded.
“He met him once.”
“When?”
“The week before he died.”
Gabriel stared.
“Where?”
Noah's voice trembled.
“At the hospital.”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“Why?”
Noah reached into his pocket.
He pulled out an old hospital bracelet.
Gabriel looked at the date.
It was nine years old.
Then he saw the name printed on it.
Not James Queen.
Not Harper.
Not Noah.
A baby's name.
Gabriel's face drained of color.
“What?”
He handed it to Harper.
She read it.
Then looked at him.
“Gabriel?”
He nodded.
The bracelet belonged to a child named Gabriel Ashford Jr.
But Gabriel had never had a child.
He looked confused.
“That isn't possible.”
Harper stared at the date.
The bracelet was dated twenty years ago.
Gabriel would have been twelve.
Then Noah whispered:
“Dad said that was the day they switched the babies.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“Who?”
Noah opened his mouth.
The lights in the vault suddenly went out.
A red laser appeared on Harper's chest.
Gabriel grabbed her.
Gunfire erupted.
Glass shattered.
Shelves crashed.
Someone was inside the vault.
Gabriel fired into the darkness.
A man's voice echoed from behind the shelves.
“Enough.”
Harper froze.
It was not Derek.
It was older.
Colder.
A voice that sounded like someone who had been waiting a very long time.
The man stepped into the emergency light.
Gabriel raised his gun.
The stranger smiled.
“Hello, Gabriel.”
Gabriel stared.
He knew the face.
A face he'd seen every day in an old family portrait.
A face that had supposedly died thirty years ago.
His grandfather.
May you like
Alive.
And standing ten feet away.
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