Chapter 6 - THE BABY ARRIVES EARLY
The operating room lights were painfully bright.
Everything happened too quickly.
Nurses moved around me.
Doctors spoke in short sentences.
My father waited outside.
Vanessa stayed with him.
I kept thinking about Daniel.
Not because I wanted him there.
Because I couldn't understand how someone could become so cruel.
Dr. Keller leaned over me.
“Claire, look at me.”
I did.
“We're going to take care of you.”
I nodded.
“Your baby is showing signs of distress.”
My heart broke.
“Please save him.”
“We will.”
Minutes later, I heard a cry.
Small.
Weak.
But real.
My entire world stopped.
“Is he alive?”
The doctor smiled.
“Yes.”
I began sobbing.
“Is he okay?”
“He's premature, but he's breathing.”
They lifted him briefly where I could see him.
Tiny.
Red-faced.
Furious at the world.
My son.
I couldn't touch him.
That hurt more than anything.
They carried him toward the neonatal unit.
I whispered:
“His name is James.”
The nurse smiled.
“James.”
I closed my eyes.
For the first time in hours, I felt peace.
Then my father entered the recovery room.
He looked exhausted.
But he was smiling.
“He's beautiful.”
I cried.
“Did you see him?”
“Yes.”
“How small?”
“Small enough to fit in one arm.”
I laughed through tears.
Then Dad's expression changed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Daniel knows.”
My smile disappeared.
“How?”
“Someone told him.”
“Is he coming here?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because his lawyer told him he can't contact you.”
I breathed out.
“Good.”
Dad sat beside me.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“We found the person who prepared the forged property document.”
“Who?”
“A notary.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did she say?”
“She said Patricia brought the document to her.”
“And?”
“She refused to notarize it.”
“Then how was it filed?”
Dad looked at me.
“She wasn't the only notary Patricia contacted.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who signed it?”
Dad slid a photograph toward me.
The signature belonged to a man named Harold Vance.
I recognized him.
“That's Daniel's uncle.”
Dad nodded.
“Exactly.”
I stared at the photograph.
“This was a family operation.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your property is worth far more than Daniel ever told you.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Dad opened another folder.
“Your grandmother bought the surrounding lots decades ago.”
I stared.
“The surrounding lots?”
“She transferred some into your name before she died.”
I felt dizzy.
“How much?”
“Enough that the property is now worth several million dollars.”
I couldn't speak.
Daniel had always told me the townhouse was old.
That nobody would pay much for it.
That I should sell it and move somewhere cheaper.
He had even suggested refinancing it.
Suddenly every conversation sounded different.
Dad continued.
“Your grandmother had plans.”
“What plans?”
“She wanted the property preserved.”
“For what?”
He looked at me.
“A community center.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“She left me a fortune?”
“She left you an opportunity.”
My eyes filled again.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dad looked at me.
“Don't answer.”
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice said:
“Claire Monroe?”
“Yes.”
“This is Harold Vance.”
My blood froze.
“Why are you calling me?”
“I need to confess.”
Dad immediately motioned for me to put it on speaker.
I did.
Harold's voice trembled.
“Patricia brought me the documents.”
“We know.”
“No.”
He sounded terrified.
“You don't know everything.”
“What don't we know?”
“I signed more than one document.”
Dad leaned closer.
“What documents?”
Harold whispered:
“Your baby's inheritance.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“I was told the child would never survive.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Harold said:
“And Patricia wanted the inheritance transferred before the birth.”
I looked at my father.
He was already standing.
“Harold,” Dad said, “tell me exactly what you signed.”
The line went silent.
Then:
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because Patricia is here.”
My blood turned cold.
“Where?”
Harold whispered:
“She knows I'm talking to you.”
May you like
Then the call ended.
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