Chapter 2 - THE DEAD MAN'S PASSWORD
My father had died when I was thirteen.
At least that was the story I had lived with for more than a decade.
His name was Dr. Michael Carter.
To most people, he had been a brilliant genetic researcher who died in a private plane crash somewhere over northern Nevada.
To me, he had been the man who taught me how to ride a bicycle.
The man who burned pancakes every Sunday.
The man who used to tell me that questions were more important than answers.
His company survived him.
Carter Biomedical grew into a billion-dollar medical research empire controlled by a board of directors.
I owned shares through a trust.
But I had never worked there.
And I had certainly never used my father’s executive credentials.
The hospital administrator turned the tablet toward me.
“There were three access attempts.”
My hands shook.
“What were they trying to see?”
“Your daughter’s blood type.”
Luka’s eyes narrowed.
“And?”
The administrator swallowed.
“Genetic screening results.”
Ryan interrupted.
“This is ridiculous.”
He pointed toward Luka.
“He probably did it.”
Luka laughed softly.
“If I wanted the file, Ryan, I wouldn’t need your father-in-law’s password.”
Vanessa looked at Ryan.
“You said her father’s company had nothing to do with this.”
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“With what?”
Ryan’s face hardened.
“Vanessa, shut up.”
Her expression changed immediately.
That was the first crack.
Small.
But visible.
I stepped away from Ryan.
“What did you tell her?”
“Elena, you’re exhausted.”
“Answer me.”
“You just had a baby.”
“Answer me.”
He lowered his voice.
“Your father conducted research before he died.”
“I know.”
“Research that people still care about.”
“What people?”
He looked toward Luka.
“The kind of people he works for.”
Luka’s expression darkened.
“I don’t work for them.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“You worked for Moretti.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Luka’s jaw tightened.
I looked between them.
“What is Moretti?”
Luka answered.
“My family.”
“And what does your family have to do with my father?”
He did not respond.
Ryan seized the moment.
“You see?”
He pointed toward Luka.
“This man didn’t come here to protect you.”
“He came because of the baby.”
My arms tightened around Grace.
“Why?”
Ryan looked at my daughter.
For one terrible second, I saw calculation in his eyes.
Not love.
Not tenderness.
Calculation.
Then he looked away.
Luka noticed.
So did I.
The administrator stepped toward the door.
“We’re locking the newborn file.”
“Do that.”
Luka’s tone was immediate.
“No remote access.”
Ryan snapped.
“You don’t have authority here.”
Luka turned.
“No.”
Then he nodded toward me.
“She does.”
Everyone looked at me.
For most of my marriage, Ryan had made decisions.
Financial decisions.
Medical decisions.
Travel plans.
Insurance.
Even which obstetrician I used.
I had called it efficiency.
Standing there in a hospital gown, I suddenly wondered how much of it had actually been control.
I looked at the administrator.
“Lock the file.”
Ryan closed his eyes briefly.
“Elena.”
“No one accesses anything without my written approval.”
The administrator nodded.
Then left.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“This is insane.”
I turned to her.
“Why are you still here?”
She opened her mouth.
Then Ryan grabbed her elbow.
“Go downstairs.”
She pulled away.
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“Vanessa.”
“I’m tired of being told half the truth.”
My pulse quickened.
“What truth?”
She looked at me.
Ryan stepped between us.
“Don’t.”
Vanessa gave him a cold smile.
“You promised me the child wouldn’t matter.”
The sentence hit like ice water.
Ryan froze.
I could barely speak.
“What did you just say?”
Vanessa’s face changed.
Maybe she realized how terrible it sounded.
Maybe she didn’t care.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You promised her my daughter wouldn’t matter?”
Ryan reached for me.
“Elena, listen.”
I stepped back.
Luka moved between us instantly.
Ryan stopped.
Vanessa shook her head.
“He said once the DNA test came back, everything would be settled.”
I stared at Ryan.
“What DNA test?”
Nobody answered.
Then Grace stirred against my chest.
Her tiny hand emerged from the blanket.
Wrapped around her wrist was the hospital identification band.
GRACE CARTER.
Below it was another number.
A number I had not noticed before.
M-17-2.
Luka saw it.
May you like
His entire body went still.
“That shouldn’t be there.”
