Chapter 15 - THE CHILD IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The newborn photograph remained unexplained.
Investigators eventually identified the private adoption agency Vanessa had visited.
The agency denied involvement.
Its director, Helen Price, agreed to meet Nathan voluntarily.
She recognized Vanessa immediately.
“She called herself Victoria Reed.”
Nathan showed her the infant photograph.
Helen’s face changed.
“That’s Lily.”
“Who?”
“A child whose adoption fell through.”
Nathan felt cold.
Helen explained.
Lily had been born to a nineteen-year-old mother named Jenna.
Jenna initially considered adoption.
She later changed her mind.
Vanessa had contacted the agency pretending to represent a wealthy couple interested in a private placement.
She repeatedly asked unusual questions.
How quickly could a newborn be transferred?
What documents did adoptive parents receive?
Were DNA tests routine?
Could birth records remain confidential?
Helen eventually refused to work with her.
“How did she get Lily’s photograph?”
Nathan asked.
Helen looked disturbed.
“I don’t know.”
They contacted Jenna.
She was terrified.
Someone had offered her seventy thousand dollars privately if she surrendered custody immediately after birth.
She refused.
Three days later, someone broke into her apartment.
Nothing valuable was taken.
But Lily’s hospital paperwork disappeared.
Claire covered her mouth when Nathan told her.
“This went far beyond fraud.”
Nathan nodded.
They had been preparing to take another woman’s baby identity and rebuild it into a fictional Caldwell heir.
Ethan sat silently.
The story no longer felt clever.
It felt cruel.
“What would have happened to the real mother?”
Nobody answered.
Nathan finally said, “We’re not going to find out.”
Later that evening, Ethan went outside.
Nathan followed him.
They sat on the back steps.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Ethan asked, “Why did you do it?”
Nathan knew what he meant.
The affair.
“I was angry.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“No.”
Nathan looked toward the yard.
“Your mother and I had been fighting for months.”
“So?”
“So I started believing every argument meant we were finished.”
“You weren’t.”
“No.”
Nathan rubbed his hands together.
“I wanted someone to tell me I wasn’t the problem.”
“And Vanessa did.”
“Yes.”
Ethan nodded.
“So you believed her.”
Nathan looked at him.
“Yes.”
“That seems to be your thing.”
The sentence hurt.
Nathan accepted it.
“You’re right.”
Ethan looked surprised.
Nathan continued.
“I believed what was comfortable.”
He pointed toward the house.
“You questioned what was comfortable.”
“The pregnancy?”
“Everything.”
Ethan looked down.
“Mom might still leave.”
“I know.”
“You okay with that?”
“No.”
Nathan’s voice broke slightly.
“But she gets to choose.”
Ethan finally looked at his father.
Nathan continued.
“The best thing I can do now is stop trying to control the consequences.”
For the first time in weeks, Ethan saw something different in him.
Not fear.
Not guilt.
Responsibility.
The next morning, police received an anonymous tip.
Daniel and Vanessa were staying at a lakeside property owned by one of Daniel’s shell companies.
Officers approached quietly.
By the time they entered, Vanessa was gone.
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Daniel was there.
And he had been waiting for Nathan.
