Chapter 9: My Father's Confession
I stared at the signature until the letters seemed to move.
Robert Monroe.
My father's name.
Again.
"He's dead," I whispered.
Sheriff Brooks looked at me.
"Who?""
"Lucas. That's what everyone told us. They said he was gone.""
The sheriff lowered the phone.
"I understand.""
"No, you don't.""
My voice cracked.
"You're telling me my father signed a document releasing my sister's baby from the hospital. You're telling me the hospital never recorded his burial. And you're expecting me to stand here calmly?""
Gerald stepped closer.
"Natalie, we need to establish what happened before drawing conclusions.""
I turned toward him.
"How many more secrets are there?""
He didn't answer.
I looked at Sheriff Brooks.
"Take me to my father.""
He nodded.
"We're going back to the church.""
The drive felt endless.
I sat in the back of the sheriff's vehicle, staring at the scanned document.
The signature was unmistakable.
My father had signed the release at 10:16 p.m.
The same night Grace died.
The same night Travis claimed he had been upstairs when she fell.
The same night Victor called emergency services.
The same night someone had made a decision about my sister's baby.
I remembered my father holding me in the hospital corridor.
His face had been pale.
His shirt had been stained with rain.
He'd told me Lucas hadn't survived.
He'd told me there was nothing left to do.
And I'd believed him.
When we arrived at the church, most of the funeral guests had already left.
My mother sat alone in the front pew.
My father stood near the altar.
He looked up when we entered.
One glance at my face was enough.
"What happened?"" he asked.
I held out the phone.
"Tell me why you signed this.""
He stared at the document.
Then his shoulders dropped.
"Where did you get that?""
"From the hospital.""
My mother stood.
"What is it?""
I turned the screen toward her.
She read the form.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Robert?""
My father closed his eyes.
"I can explain.""
I laughed bitterly.
"That's what everyone says.""
He looked at Sheriff Brooks.
"Can we speak privately?""
"No," I answered.
My father turned toward me.
"Natalie, please.""
"No more private conversations. No more promises. No more telling us to wait until the right time.""
My mother began crying.
"Robert, what did you do?""
My father looked at the casket.
Then he looked at me.
"I didn't kill Lucas.""
The words were so quiet that I almost didn't hear them.
I stepped closer.
"Then why did you sign for his release?""
He rubbed both hands over his face.
"Because I was told he was alive.""
Everything stopped.
I stared at him.
"What?""
My father swallowed.
"At the hospital, a nurse came to find me. She said the baby had been born and was alive, but he needed immediate specialist care.""
My mother gripped the pew.
"Why didn't you tell us?""
"Because Travis told me the situation was complicated.""
"Travis?"" I repeated.
My father nodded.
"He said Grace had been moved to intensive care and that the baby needed to be transferred to a private neonatal facility.""
Gerald stepped forward.
"Which facility?""
My father shook his head.
"I don't remember the name.""
"Robert, this is important.""
"He gave me an address.""
"Did you go there?""
My father hesitated.
"Yes.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Where?""
"An office building outside town.""
"That isn't a hospital.""
"I know that now.""
My mother began shaking her head.
"Robert, please tell me you didn't hand Lucas to a stranger.""
My father covered his face.
"I thought I was saving him.""
I felt something inside me crack.
"Saving him from what?""
My father looked at me.
"Travis told me the hospital was under investigation. He said someone had falsified the medical records and that if Lucas stayed there, he might be taken into state custody.""
Gerald's expression hardened.
"That is not a legitimate reason to remove a newborn from a hospital.""
"I know!""
My father shouted the words.
Then he lowered his voice.
"I know that now.""
Sheriff Brooks stepped closer.
"Who gave you the release form?""
"Travis.""
"Did you read it?""
"Yes.""
"Did you understand what you were signing?""
My father shook his head.
"He told me it was temporary guardianship paperwork.""
Gerald looked at the signature.
"This document specifically authorizes the transfer of the infant to a private medical custodian.""
My father stared at him.
"I thought that's what it meant.""
"Who was the custodian?""
My father looked toward the floor.
"Victor Hale.""
My mother made a broken sound.
I gripped the back of a pew.
"Victor?""
My father nodded.
"He was waiting outside the hospital. Travis said he had arranged everything.""
Sheriff Brooks's expression changed.
"Where did you take the baby?""
My father gave him an address.
The sheriff wrote it down.
"Did you see Lucas after the transfer?""
My father nodded.
"Yes.""
"Where?""
"In a house.""
"What house?""
"An old property outside Cedar Ridge.""
Gerald looked up sharply.
"Who owned it?""
My father swallowed.
"Victor Hale.""
I felt dizzy.
"Did you see my nephew?""
My father looked at me.
"Yes.""
"Was he alive?""
Tears filled his eyes.
"Yes.""
My mother collapsed into the pew.
I couldn't move.
For several seconds, the only sound in the church was my mother's crying.
Then I whispered:
"How long?""
My father shook his head.
"I don't know.""
"How long was Lucas there?""
"I don't know.""
"Did you see him again?""
He nodded.
"Once.""
"When?""
"Two days later.""
I stepped closer.
"Was he okay?""
My father hesitated.
"He was in a crib. There was a woman caring for him.""
"Did you hold him?""
He nodded.
"Yes.""
"Did you bring him home?""
My father began crying.
"No.""
I felt the room spin.
"Why?""
"Travis said I couldn't.""
"Why not?""
"He told me there were legal complications. He said if I tried to take Lucas, I would be arrested for kidnapping.""
My mother stared at him.
"Robert, you should have called us.""
"I know.""
"You should have called the police!""
"I KNOW!""
His voice broke.
He sank into a chair.
"I was afraid.""
I stared at him.
"Of Travis?""
He shook his head.
"Of what I had done.""
The confession came slowly after that.
My father admitted that he had known about Travis's financial problems.
He had discovered the forged documents when Grace asked him to help search the office.
He had also learned that Travis and Victor were involved in an arrangement to obtain money using Grace's insurance policy and property.
But he hadn't understood the full extent of it.
Travis had convinced him that Grace's death was a terrible accident and that the hospital's handling of Lucas was a separate medical emergency.
He had used my father's fear to keep him quiet.
Then he had threatened to accuse him of stealing company documents and illegally removing the baby.
My father had obeyed.
Not because he believed Travis was innocent.
Because he believed he had already become part of something criminal.
And the longer he waited, the harder it became to tell the truth.
When he finished, my mother stood in front of him.
"You let me bury my daughter without telling me her baby might be alive?""
My father looked up.
"I thought I could get him back.""
"When?""
He had no answer.
"Tomorrow? Next week? When Travis decided you were allowed to see him?""
My father began sobbing.
My mother slapped him.
The sound echoed through the church.
Then she stepped away.
"I don't know who you are anymore.""
Sheriff Brooks crouched in front of my father.
"Robert, I need you to understand something. You may have committed an offense by removing that child from the hospital without proper authority.""
My father nodded.
"I understand.""
"You're going to have to cooperate fully.""
"I will.""
"Where is the house?""
My father gave the address again.
The sheriff stood.
He spoke into his radio.
"Dispatch, I need units sent to the old Hale property outside Cedar Ridge. Possible missing infant. Request medical personnel immediately.""
My heart began pounding.
"Lucas is there?""
The sheriff looked at me.
"We don't know.""
My father stood abruptly.
"He's there.""
"How do you know?"" I asked.
"Because Victor told me he was keeping him safe.""
I looked at Gerald.
"Call the hospital. Tell them to send a neonatal team.""
He nodded.
Sheriff Brooks motioned toward the door.
"Let's go.""
But before we could leave, my father's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
The color drained from his face.
"Who is it?"" I asked.
He didn't answer.
I took the phone.
The caller ID displayed an unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice came through.
It was calm.
Almost amused.
"Natalie Monroe?""
"Who is this?""
"Someone who thinks you should stop looking for your nephew.""
I felt my blood turn cold.
"Where is Lucas?""
The man laughed softly.
"Your father made a mistake bringing you into this.""
"Where is he?""
"Ask your attorney what Grace really signed.""
I looked toward Gerald.
The caller continued.
"Because the baby wasn't the only thing your sister left behind.""
Then the line went dead.
I lowered the phone.
Gerald was staring at me.
"What did he say?""
I repeated the words.
His expression changed.
"What did Grace really sign?""
He slowly opened his briefcase and removed a sealed document I'd never seen before.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to show you this until we located Lucas.""
My heart hammered.
"What is it?""
Gerald placed the document on the pew.
"An emergency guardianship agreement.""
I looked at the signature.
Grace Calloway.
But beneath her name was another signature.
Travis Calloway.
And beside it was a date.
October 13.
One day before Grace fell down the stairs.
Gerald looked at me.
"Your sister had already taken legal steps to protect Lucas from his father.""
My father stared at the paper.
Then he whispered:
"That means Travis knew.""
I turned toward him.
"Knew what?""
My father looked at the casket.
"That Grace was planning to take the baby away from him.""
Before anyone could answer, Sheriff Brooks's radio crackled.
"Unit Three to Sheriff Brooks. We've reached the Hale property.""
The sheriff lifted the radio.
"Status?""
A pause.
Then a deputy's voice came through.
"Sir, the house is empty.""
My stomach dropped.
"Where is Lucas?""
The deputy continued.
"But we found a recently used nursery. There's a crib, bottles, formula, and a handwritten note on the kitchen counter.""
Sheriff Brooks closed his eyes.
"What does the note say?""
The deputy hesitated.
Then he read it aloud.
"To whoever finds this: The child has been moved. If you want him back, stop looking into Grace Calloway's death.""
I grabbed Gerald's arm.
"No.""
The deputy continued.
"There's also a photograph.""
"What photograph?"" the sheriff demanded.
"A photograph of a woman holding the baby.""
My heart nearly stopped.
"Can you describe her?"" I shouted.
The deputy paused.
Then he answered.
"Yes, ma'am.""
A long silence followed.
"She's wearing a hospital uniform.""
And when he described the woman, I recognized her.
May you like
It was Olivia Carter.
The nurse who had just given us Grace's original medical records.
