Chapter 8 - The Twin Who Wasn’t Stolen
Tessa slapped Walter before anyone could stop her.
He accepted it.
We met in a private conference room at a Denver hotel.
Walter looked older than I remembered.
The limp was worse.
But dead men apparently age too.
“You followed her.”
“Yes.”
“You terrorized my children.”
“No.”
Tessa laughed bitterly.
“They changed schools four times because of you.”
“I was keeping other people away.”
“Who?”
Walter looked at me.
“Arthur's people.”
“My father is dead.”
“His instructions aren't.”
That sentence bothered me.
Then we reached the claim.
Lucas was Walter's son.
Tessa called him a liar.
So did I.
Walter placed a DNA report on the table.
Old.
Six years.
He claimed Arthur ordered it.
Probability Walter was Lucas's biological father: 99.98%.
Impossible.
Tessa had never slept with him.
Walter agreed.
“I never touched her.”
“Then how?”
“Dr. Vance.”
The pregnancy had begun naturally.
Tessa became pregnant with Noah.
At approximately seven weeks, she experienced bleeding.
She visited Vance's clinic because Lorraine recommended him.
Vance told her everything was normal.
According to Walter, it wasn't.
Arthur had ordered an experimental embryo transfer without Tessa's knowledge.
The second embryo had been created using Walter's genetic material and an egg from—
Walter stopped.
“Say it.”
“Tessa.”
She went completely still.
A stored egg had supposedly been taken during an earlier procedure years before.
Tessa stared at him.
“I never donated eggs.”
“No. Vance took them during an ovarian cyst surgery when you were twenty-one.”
Silence.
It was grotesque.
A child manufactured without consent.
Then carried beside a naturally conceived sibling.
Two boys born as twins who were genetically half-brothers through their mother.
It explained the late appearance of the second fetus.
It explained the DNA.
It explained Arthur's payment.
But not why.
“Why would my father do that?”
Walter's eyes moved toward me.
“To test succession.”
My grandfather's trust contained genetic language nobody had anticipated modern fertility medicine could manipulate.
Arthur wanted to know whether a child biologically descended from Daniel's branch and Tessa's Bellamy branch could claim assets over my child.
Lucas was an experiment.
Tessa stood so quickly her chair fell.
“No.”
She walked to the window.
I wanted to destroy everyone involved.
Most were already dead.
Convenient.
Walter continued.
“Arthur regretted it.”
“After using a woman and child as laboratory equipment?”
“Yes.”
I hated that answer.
Arthur discovered Vance had gone beyond instructions.
There were other embryos.
Other children.
The experiment had become a business.
Arthur tried shutting it down.
Then he died.
“Vance killed him?”
“I think so.”
“And you?”
“Arthur ordered me to disappear and watch Lucas.”
“Why fake your death?”
“Because Lorraine discovered who I was.”
My mother stiffened.
Walter looked at her.
“You thought Daniel's bloodline threatened Grant.”
Lorraine didn't deny it.
Then Tessa returned to the table.
Her eyes were dry.
Cold.
“You said Lucas is your son.”
Walter nodded.
“No.”
She pointed toward herself.
“He is my son.”
Then toward me.
“And Grant is the man he thinks may be his father.”
Walter looked down.
Tessa leaned closer.
“You are DNA.”
That ended that argument.
Then the door opened.
Noah stood there.
He had heard enough.
“Mom?”
Tessa rushed to him.
But Noah wasn't looking at her.
He was looking at Walter.
“Why do you have Lucas's teddy bear?”
Everyone froze.
Walter looked down.
A small brown bear protruded from his bag.
The twins had arrived at the airport with one teddy bear.
I remembered Lucas holding it.
Tessa whispered:
“Where did you get that?”
Walter's face changed.
“I didn't.”
He reached into his bag.
Inside the bear, something was blinking.
A tracker.
Then a tiny speaker activated.
Dr. Simon Vance's voice filled the room.
“Now that the family is finally together, perhaps we can discuss the boy who actually matters.”
Walter went pale.
“Vance.”
The supposedly missing doctor was listening.
Then he said:
“And Grant, stop worrying about Lucas.”
Pause.
“He was never the target.”
I looked at Noah.
May you like
The speaker crackled.
“Noah was.”
