Chapter 6: The Third Baby In The Record
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The photograph sat on the table between us.
A piece of paper.
A piece of history.
A piece of a truth my family had spent fourteen years burying.
Three babies.
The words kept repeating in my mind.
Three.
Not two.
Not me and Lucas.
Three.
I looked at my mother.
“You knew?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“No.””
The answer came quickly this time.
But there was something different.
She wasn’t hiding.
She was terrified.
“Then why did you say that?””
She looked at the photograph.
“Because I remember hearing something.””
“What?””
She swallowed.
“When I woke up after surgery, I heard the nurses talking.””
The room became quiet.
“What did they say?””
My mother closed her eyes.
“They said there was another baby.””
Lucas stepped closer.
“Another baby from you?””
She nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
My heart started pounding.
“But nobody told you?””
“No.””
“Why?””
Her hands shook.
“Because when I asked, they told me I was confused.””
“That makes no sense.””
“I know.””
She looked at the picture again.
“But I was weak. I was on medication. I had just lost the belief that Lucas was alive.””
She looked at me.
“And then I had you.””
The pain in her voice was obvious.
“You were the only thing I thought I had left.””
I looked away.
Because part of me wanted to understand.
And another part of me couldn’t forgive.
A missing brother was already impossible.
Now there was another missing child.
William carefully examined the photograph.
“This isn’t from the official hospital archive.””
“How do you know?””
“Because St. Catherine removed every photograph from that delivery room.””
I stared at him.
“Someone kept this.””
“Yes.””
“Who?””
William turned the photograph over.
There was a small mark in the corner.
A symbol.
A circle with three lines through it.
His face changed.
“What?””
He looked worried.
“I’ve seen this before.””
Lucas immediately asked:
“Where?””
William didn’t answer.
He walked to his briefcase and pulled out an old folder.
He opened it.
Inside was a newspaper clipping.
The headline was faded.
*LOCAL MEDICAL FOUNDATION ANNOUNCES NEW RESEARCH PROGRAM*
I read the date.
Fourteen years ago.
“What does this have to do with us?””
William pointed at the bottom of the article.
There was the same symbol.
The circle.
The three lines.
“The organization that funded this program.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who were they?””
William looked at my mother.
She whispered the name.
“The Aurelius Foundation.””
Lucas frowned.
“Why does that sound familiar?””
William looked at him.
“Because they funded your adoption.””
Silence.
I looked at Lucas.
“What?””
Lucas shook his head.
“I didn’t know.””
William nodded.
“Your adoptive parents probably didn’t either.””
I picked up the newspaper.
The article talked about medical research.
Genetic studies.
Advancements.
It sounded harmless.
Too harmless.
“What were they actually studying?””
William hesitated.
“Families with rare inherited traits.””
The same phrase again.
I looked at Lucas.
“They knew about us.””
“Yes.””
“And Grandpa worked with them.””
William didn’t answer.
But he didn’t need to.
My grandfather’s signature.
The adoption papers.
The hidden DNA report.
It all connected.
I felt sick.
“My entire life was an experiment?””
“No.””
Lucas’s voice surprised me.
I looked at him.
He shook his head.
“Don’t let them make you think that.””
“What do you mean?””
“Because that’s what they wanted.””
He looked at the photograph.
“They wanted us to see ourselves as something they owned.””
His words stayed with me.
For the first time, I saw Lucas differently.
Not as the missing piece of my family.
But as someone who had spent his entire life fighting to be seen as a person.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Again.
Everyone froze.
I looked at the screen.
Another message.
*You found the third record.*
My hands went cold.
William stepped closer.
“Don’t respond.””
But another message appeared.
*You want answers? Come to St. Catherine Medical Center. Alone.*
Lucas immediately shook his head.
“No.””
I looked at him.
“You know who this is?””
“No.””
“But you’re scared.””
He didn’t deny it.
“I’ve received messages like this before.””
My mother looked horrified.
“How many?””
Lucas looked down.
“Three.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
He gave a sad smile.
“Because I didn’t know if you would believe me.””
The guilt hit me.
He had spent years searching.
Years afraid.
And I had lived in a comfortable world where I never knew he existed.
William took my phone.
“We’re not going anywhere.””
But I noticed something.
He wasn’t looking at the message.
He was looking at the hospital name.
St. Catherine Medical Center.
Like it meant something.
“You know something.””
William looked at me.
“No.””
“You do.””
He sighed.
“When Thomas started investigating, he discovered something unusual.””
“What?””
“The hospital records were altered.””
I frowned.
“What kind of alterations?””
“One birth certificate was changed.””
My heart stopped.
“Whose?””
William looked at Lucas.
“Lucas.””
My brother went silent.
“What did they change?””
William opened the file.
“Originally, there were three babies listed under Rebecca Hale’s delivery record.””
I felt dizzy.
“Three?””
“Yes.””
“And then?””
“One record disappeared.””
“Which baby?””
William looked at the page.
“The third.””
My mother whispered:
“What was the baby’s name?””
William turned the paper around.
There was a blank space.
No name.
Only one note.
*Transferred immediately after birth.*
I stared.
“Transferred where?””
William shook his head.
“That’s what Thomas spent years trying to discover.””
Lucas looked at the photograph.
“Maybe the third child is why they separated us.””
Everyone looked at him.
He continued:
“Maybe Grandpa wasn’t afraid of me and Lena.””
My heart raced.
“Then what was he afraid of?””
Lucas pointed at the three babies in the photograph.
“He was afraid of all three of us being together.””
A cold silence filled the room.
Then my mother suddenly gasped.
“What?””
She grabbed the photograph.
Her hands shook violently.
“What is it?””
She looked closer.
Then she pointed.
“There.””
We all leaned in.
In the corner of the picture, behind the nurse’s arm, was a small hospital tag.
Not mine.
Not Lucas’s.
The third baby.
The tag was partially hidden.
But one thing was clear.
The baby’s last name.
Hale.
And underneath it…
A first name.
My mother covered her mouth.
“No…”
“What?””
She looked at me.
Then at Lucas.
Her voice barely worked.
“That’s impossible.””
William grabbed the photograph.
His expression changed.
Because he recognized the name too.
“Who is it?””
Nobody answered.
I looked at the tag.
The third child’s name.
The child who vanished before anyone knew they existed.
The child my grandfather erased.
The child who shared our blood.
And then William finally whispered:
“The third baby was named after your father.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
He looked at the photograph.
“The baby’s name was Thomas Hale.””
My entire body went cold.
Because my father had died three months ago.
But the photograph was fourteen years old.
May you like
And according to the hospital record…
There had been another Thomas Hale born the same night as me and Lucas.
