CHAPTER 2: THE THIRD BABY
CHAPTER 2: THE THIRD BABY
My hands trembled so violently that the paper nearly slipped from my grasp.
A third baby.
The words echoed inside my head like a gunshot.
I stared at the handwritten note again.
"If Ryan ever discovers the truth, make sure he never learns what happened to the third baby."
My chest tightened.
What truth?
What happened?
And why would anyone go to such lengths to hide it?
The private investigator shifted uncomfortably across the desk.
"Mr. Bellamy... I didn't know about that page until recently."
I looked up sharply.
"What do you mean?"
He swallowed.
"Someone paid a lot of money to keep parts of the file buried."
"Tiffany."
He nodded.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too hot.
For months, I had blamed Emily.
For months, I had convinced myself she was a liar, a thief, a cheater.
Meanwhile, Tiffany had been standing beside me, smiling, planning our wedding, helping me choose honeymoon destinations...
While hiding my children.
My children.
The realization hit me like a freight train.
The twins.
The little boys standing on that roadside.
My sons.
And somewhere out there...
A third child.
Or at least there had been one.
"Tell me everything."
The investigator hesitated.
Then he slid another envelope across the desk.
"I shouldn't have this."
Inside were hospital surveillance photos.
The timestamp showed three days after the twins were born.
My heart stopped.
Emily was sitting in a wheelchair outside the maternity ward.
Weak.
Pale.
Barely able to hold herself upright.
Three newborn bassinets stood beside her.
Three.
Not two.
Three.
Then the next photo appeared.
A woman wearing sunglasses entered the hospital.
Even with half her face covered, I recognized her instantly.
Tiffany.
I felt sick.
The following image showed Tiffany speaking with a nurse.
Then another.
Tiffany pushing one of the bassinets down a hallway.
Alone.
Without Emily.
Without hospital staff.
Without permission.
The final image was blurry.
But it showed Tiffany leaving through a side exit.
One bassinet.
One baby.
Gone.
I jumped to my feet.
"What the hell is this?"
The investigator's face was pale.
"We never found the child."
The words punched the air from my lungs.
"What do you mean you never found the child?"
"All records disappeared. Security footage vanished. The nurse who signed the discharge papers resigned two days later."
I could barely breathe.
A baby had vanished.
My baby.
And Tiffany had somehow erased every trace.
The investigator lowered his voice.
"Ryan... I think the child was taken."
The room spun.
Kidnapped.
The word formed silently in my mind.
Kidnapped.
For a moment, I couldn't think.
Couldn't move.
Couldn't process what I was hearing.
Then another realization hit me.
Emily.
She had known.
Of course she had known.
Which explained the look she gave me on the roadside.
Not anger.
Not hatred.
Pity.
Because while I spent a year believing lies...
She had spent a year mourning a missing child.
Alone.
I rushed out of the office.
By the time I reached my SUV, night had fallen across Tennessee.
My hands clenched the steering wheel.
I needed answers.
Now.
I drove straight to the mansion Tiffany and I shared.
Every mile fueled my rage.
Every memory became poison.
The engagement party.
The romantic vacations.
The promises.
The kisses.
Every second felt like a manipulation.
When I arrived, the house was glowing with warm light.
Wedding magazines covered the dining table.
Samples for floral arrangements sat in the kitchen.
Tiffany was humming happily as she arranged invitations.
The sight made my stomach turn.
She looked up and smiled.
"You're home early."
For a brief second, I wondered how many lies could hide behind one smile.
Then I threw the hospital photos onto the table.
The color drained from her face.
Instantly.
She knew.
She knew exactly what she was looking at.
Neither of us spoke.
The silence stretched.
Dangerous.
Heavy.
Finally, I asked the question.
"Where is my child?"
Tiffany froze.
Completely froze.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Fear.
Raw fear.
My voice shook.
"Where is the third baby?"
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then something terrifying happened.
She laughed.
A small laugh at first.
Then louder.
And louder.
Until it echoed through the room.
The sound raised every hair on my body.
Because it wasn't the laugh of someone caught.
It was the laugh of someone who had been waiting for this moment.
When she finally stopped, her eyes met mine.
Cold.
Empty.
Unrecognizable.
"You still don't understand, do you, Ryan?"
My pulse thundered.
"Understand what?"
A slow smile spread across her face.
The kind that belongs in nightmares.
Then she whispered five words that changed everything.
"The baby was never missing."
I felt my blood run cold.
"What are you talking about?"
Tiffany stepped closer.
Her eyes glittering.
Her voice barely above a whisper.
"You've already met your third child."
The room went silent.
Every sound disappeared.
Every breath stopped.
I stared at her.
Unable to move.
Unable to speak.
Unable to comprehend what she had just said.
Then Tiffany smiled.
And pointed toward a framed photograph sitting on the fireplace.
A photograph I had walked past every day for nearly a year.
A photograph of a little blond-haired girl.
The child Tiffany claimed was her orphaned niece.
The child who had been living under my roof the entire time.
The child who looked exactly like my mother.
May you like
And suddenly...
I realized why.
