Chapter 3 - The Child Someone Expected
I pulled Chloe behind me.
“Waiting for her?”
Marcus ordered security to seal the floor.
Dr. Winters removed the blood cooler.
Hospital administrators began shouting into phones.
The orderly insisted he had been told to deliver the bag.
By whom?
He didn’t know.
A nurse had called.
No name.
No badge number.
The request had appeared legitimate.
Marcus looked at me.
“That means someone inside this hospital knew Chloe was coming.”
“Only Dr. Winters knew.”
She stiffened.
“I did not contact the Carter family.”
“I believe you.”
Marcus’s answer surprised her.
“Then who?”
Nobody knew.
David was sedated again after his monitors destabilized.
Chloe sat against me.
“Mom, can we go home?”
Everything inside me wanted to say yes.
Then Dr. Winters entered.
“Natasha, I need to discuss the donation.”
I immediately shook my head.
“No.”
“I understand.”
“You said it would be safe.”
“Under controlled circumstances, yes. But given what just happened, I will not proceed until security clears every part of the process.”
Marcus looked relieved.
I hated that.
“Why are you so interested in Chloe?”
His face hardened.
“Because I’ve seen this before.”
“Seen what?”
“A Carter child with that blood profile.”
I froze.
“Who?”
He looked through the ICU glass.
“David.”
Obviously.
Then he added:
“And his sister.”
I had never heard of a sister.
“David doesn’t have one.”
Marcus looked at me.
“He did.”
Her name was Amelia.
Born three years after David.
Dead at six.
Officially from leukemia.
But Marcus said something strange.
“She didn’t die from the cancer.”
“What did she die from?”
He didn’t answer.
Then Chloe whispered:
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Who’s that lady?”
I followed her gaze.
At the far end of the corridor stood an elderly woman.
Silver hair.
Black wool coat.
Cane.
Margaret Carter.
Alive.
Eight years older.
Still terrifying.
She stared directly at me.
Then at Chloe.
The cane slipped from her fingers.
Marcus moved toward her.
Margaret ignored him.
She walked straight to us.
“Natasha.”
I couldn’t speak.
Her eyes shifted to Chloe.
For the first time since I had known Margaret Carter, her control disappeared.
She touched Chloe’s cheek.
My daughter instinctively leaned backward.
Margaret immediately removed her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
She was crying.
“Why?”
I found my voice.
“Why did you tell me to run?”
Margaret looked toward Marcus.
Then toward the ICU.
“Because David’s child was never supposed to exist.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
She looked at Chloe again.
“It means eight years ago I wasn’t hiding you from David.”
Pause.
“I was hiding you from his father.”
David’s father, Vincent Carter, had died twelve years earlier.
Or so everyone said.
I almost laughed from exhaustion.
“Is anyone in this family actually dead?”
Margaret didn’t smile.
“Vincent is.”
Then her eyes hardened.
“But before he died, he created something that made every future Carter child dangerous.”
“What?”
“A trust.”
Marcus interrupted.
“Margaret.”
She ignored him.
“A succession trust worth more than anyone outside the family understands.”
Money.
Of course.
But Margaret shook her head.
“It isn’t the money.”
“Then what?”
“The trust gives its beneficiary voting control over every legitimate Carter company.”
Shipping.
Construction.
Hotels.
Real estate.
Billions.
David had never activated it.
Why?
Because the trust required a direct biological heir.
A child.
Chloe.
I felt sick.
“So if they know about her—”
“They know David can no longer be removed without creating a successor.”
Marcus looked toward the ICU.
“And whoever tried killing him may now consider Chloe the bigger problem.”
Margaret suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“You need to take her somewhere no Carter knows.”
Before I could answer, Chloe’s backpack fell from the chair.
A small object rolled out.
Not hers.
A black tracking device.
Blinking.
Margaret stared at it.
Marcus reached for his weapon.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
May you like
A distorted male voice said:
“Thank you for bringing us the heir.”
