Chapter 4
I flew to London a week later.
Serena stayed behind with Sage and my sister.
Marcus came with me.
He didn't want me going alone.
Not after Dubai.
Not with Vanessa's people still out there.
I was grateful.
The private school was in the countryside.
Exclusive.
Expensive.
Secure.
We posed as wealthy Americans looking to enroll our daughter.
The headmistress gave us a tour.
And we saw her.
Sophia.
Seven years old.
Long dark hair.
My eyes.
My smile.
She was sitting in the courtyard.
Reading a book.
Alone.
She looked sad.
Lonely.
My heart broke.
"Who is that?" I asked the headmistress.
"Oh, that's Sophia," she said. "She's a student here. Very bright. Very quiet. Her parents travel a lot. Business. They rarely visit. Poor dear. She's quite alone."
Her parents.
Vanessa.
And whoever she was pretending I was.
Rarely visited.
Never visited.
She'd abandoned my daughter.
Left her in a strange country.
Alone.
I could barely contain my anger.
But I had to be patient.
Smart.
I couldn't just grab her and run.
I needed to do this properly.
Legally.
So she'd know she was safe.
So she'd never have to be afraid again.
We left the school.
We contacted the authorities.
We presented the evidence.
The birth certificate.
Vanessa's fraud.
Everything.
They agreed to help.
The next day, we went back to the school.
With social workers.
With police.
With proof that I was Sophia's father.
That Vanessa had no legal right to keep her from me.
They brought Sophia to the office.
She was scared.
Confused.
She looked at the strangers.
And then she looked at me.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
I knelt down in front of her.
"I'm your father, Sophia," I said. "My name is Sylvester. And I've come to take you home."
She stared at me.
Disbelief.
Hope.
Fear.
"My mother says my father is dead," she said.
"Your mother lied," I said. "I'm not dead. I've been looking for you. For a very long time. And I'm never going to let you go again."
I held out my arms.
She hesitated.
For a long moment.
And then she ran to me.
She threw her arms around my neck.
And she cried.
"I knew you were alive," she whispered. "I knew it. I dreamed about you. Every night."
I held her.
Tighter than I thought possible.
"I'm here, baby," I said. "Daddy's here. And I'm never leaving you again."
We took her back to the hotel.
We talked for hours.
She told me about her life.
At the school.
Alone.
Scared.
Waiting for parents who never came.
She told me about the letters she'd written.
To the father she'd never known.
Letters she'd never sent.
Because she didn't know where to send them.
I cried with her.
I held her.
I told her how sorry I was.
That I hadn't known about her.
That Vanessa had hidden her from me.
And I promised her.
Over and over.
That she was safe now.
That she was loved.
That she would never be alone again.
The next day, we flew back to the States.
Sophia was nervous.
About meeting her brother and sister.
About her new life.
About everything.
But she held my hand the whole flight.
And she didn't let go.
Sage and Serena were waiting for us.
Sage ran to Sophia.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Sage. Your big brother."
Sophia looked at him.
And she smiled.
"Hi."
Serena reached for her.
Sophia picked her up.
And Serena snuggled against her.
And just like that, they were siblings.
Bonded.
Connected.
Family.
I watched them.
Three of my children.
Together.
And my heart was almost full.
Almost.
Robert was still missing.
My three-year-old son.
Somewhere in Connecticut.
With people who might hurt him.
Who might sell him again.
Who knew what Vanessa had told them to do.
The investigator called that evening.
"We found them," he said. "The foster family. They're in a motel in Hartford. They're scared. Desperate. Vanessa's people are looking for them. They want to talk. They want to give Robert back. In exchange for immunity and witness protection."
"Make the deal," I said. "I want my son back. Now."
It took two more days.
Days of negotiations.
Days of fear.
Days of wondering if Robert was okay.
If he was safe.
If he was being fed.
If he was being loved.
And then the day came.
The exchange.
In a parking lot.
In broad daylight.
With police watching.
With Marcus and his men.
With me.
Waiting.
A car pulled up.
A woman got out.
Holding a small boy.
Robert.
Three years old.
Blonde hair.
My eyes.
He was scared.
Clinging to the woman.
I walked toward them.
Slowly.
Hands up.
"Hi, Robert," I said. "I'm your daddy."
He looked at me.
Shy.
Scared.
But he didn't look away.
The woman handed him to me.
"I'm sorry," she said. "We didn't know. She told us his parents didn't want him. That he was better off with us. We didn't know who you were. We didn't know she was lying."
I held Robert.
He was warm.
Real.
Alive.
"You can tell the police everything," I said. "And if you're telling the truth, you'll be protected. But if you're lying, if you hurt my son in any way, I will find you. And you will regret it."
She nodded.
Tears in her eyes.
"We never hurt him," she said. "We loved him. He's a good boy."
I turned and walked away.
I didn't look back.
I held Robert.
He didn't cry.
He just looked at me.
Curious.
Calm.
"You're my daddy?" he asked.
"I'm your daddy."
"Okay," he said.
And he put his head on my shoulder.
And he closed his eyes.
And he fell asleep.
I got in the car.
Marcus drove.
Robert slept in my arms the whole way home.
When we got to the house, the others were waiting.
Sage.
Sophia.
Serena.
They ran to me.
They looked at Robert.
Sleeping in my arms.
"He's beautiful," Sophia whispered.
"Can we wake him up?" Sage asked.
"Let him sleep," I said. "He's had a long day. He'll meet everyone soon enough."
I carried Robert inside.
I laid him down on the couch.
And I sat beside him.
Watching him sleep.
My four children.
All under one roof.
All safe.
All mine.
I should have been happy.
Elated.
Complete.
But something was wrong.
Vanessa's words kept echoing in my head.
*You'll never find them all.*
And the investigator had found something else.
In Vanessa's records.
A reference to a fifth child.
A boy.
Born a year before the plane crash.
Given up for adoption.
Or sold.
Vanessa had hidden him too well.
There were no records.
No names.
No clues.
Just a single line in an email.
*The first one is gone. No loose ends.*
The first one.
Before Sage.
Before any of them.
A child I'd never even known existed.
A child Vanessa had gotten rid of.
Fifteen years ago.
I had another son.
Somewhere.
May you like
And I was going to find him.
No matter how long it took.
