Chapter 18 - The Last Hostage
Victor remained missing for forty-eight hours.
Blood samples confirmed he had suffered a significant injury.
Police believed he could not travel far.
Claire believed desperation would make him unpredictable.
Eleanor asked to see Ethan.
This time he agreed.
Claire went with him.
Eleanor saw the new paternity report.
She stared for nearly a minute.
Then she began laughing.
Not happily.
Not sadly.
Just with disbelief.
“Thomas was your father.”
Ethan’s voice was hard.
“Yes.”
Eleanor covered her mouth.
“All those years.”
“You believed Victor.”
“Yes.”
“You let him use it.”
“Yes.”
“You let him call himself my father.”
“I never told you.”
“You let him believe he owned part of me.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan shook his head.
“No.”
“You don’t get to use that word yet.”
She nodded.
“Fair.”
Claire watched him.
He had stopped seeking explanations that could make the past reasonable.
Some things were not reasonable.
They were simply true.
Eleanor leaned closer.
“Victor will come here.”
Quinn, listening nearby, stepped forward.
“Why?”
“Because I’m the last person he blames.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“He blames everyone.”
“No.”
Eleanor’s voice was quiet.
“He blames me first.”
“Ruth chose Thomas’s money.”
“Thomas kept Lily.”
“Thomas raised Ethan.”
“But I was the one who told Victor he would never be part of this family.”
Claire stared at her.
“When?”
“Thirty-six years ago.”
“What exactly did you say?”
Eleanor remembered.
“You can stand beside us for the rest of your life, Victor, but you will never be one of us.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Claire almost recoiled.
It sounded exactly like something Eleanor would say.
“And he built his life around proving you wrong.”
“Yes.”
Quinn increased security at the detention center.
Victor did not come.
Instead he went to Ruth.
She had returned to the farmhouse that morning.
At 6:20 p.m., her emergency alarm triggered.
Police arrived six minutes later.
The house was empty.
Ruth was gone.
On the kitchen table was a note.
One daughter was taken from me.
One daughter was given to you.
Now choose which family you belong to.
Claire read it.
“He took Ruth.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Quinn looked at Eleanor.
Eleanor stared at the note.
“I know.”
The answer was St. Matthew’s Hospital.
The abandoned maternity wing.
The same corridor where Rose had been carried away seven years earlier.
Renovation had closed it months ago.
Victor entered using old maintenance access codes.
Police surrounded the building.
Ruth was somewhere inside.
Victor called Claire.
“You brought police.”
“Yes.”
“I told you once what happens when people refuse instructions.”
“You kidnapped Ruth.”
“I brought her back to the beginning.”
“What do you want?”
“Eleanor.”
Claire stared.
“She’s in prison.”
“Bring her.”
“You know that isn’t possible.”
“Then Ruth dies where Sophie disappeared.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“You don’t want Ruth dead.”
Victor became silent.
Claire continued.
“You loved her.”
“I did.”
“You still do.”
“No.”
“You kept Lily’s necklace.”
Silence.
“You built Sophie’s rooms from things Ruth told you she liked.”
Victor breathed into the phone.
Claire knew she had reached something.
“You wanted a family.”
“You could have had one.”
“No.”
“You chose revenge.”
“You know nothing about what I chose.”
“I know enough.”
Claire’s voice hardened.
“You spent thirty-six years blaming Thomas and Eleanor for taking people from you.”
“Then you became worse.”
Victor hung up.
Quinn looked at Claire.
“He stayed on long enough.”
“For what?”
“We located the floor.”
Police entered through two stairwells.
Claire remained outside.
Ethan stayed with her.
Then gunfire sounded inside.
One shot.
Then another.
Claire jumped.
Quinn’s radio came alive.
“Suspect moving east.”
“Hostage located.”
Claire exhaled.
“Ruth?”
Quinn listened.
“Alive.”
Ethan grabbed Claire’s hand.
Then another message came.
“Suspect heading toward roof access.”
Police pursued Victor upward.
He reached the roof.
Floodlights illuminated him.
Claire could see from the street below.
Victor stood near the edge.
His left arm hung awkwardly from the cemetery injury.
Police surrounded the rooftop access.
He had nowhere to go.
Then he shouted.
“Ethan!”
Ethan looked up.
Victor saw him.
“Come here!”
Quinn grabbed Ethan.
“No.”
Victor laughed.
“Thomas always hid behind other people too!”
Ethan stared upward.
Claire held his arm.
“You owe him nothing.”
Ethan nodded.
Then he called back.
“You were never my father.”
Victor’s face changed even from a distance.
Ethan continued.
“You were never Lily’s father in the way she needed.”
“You were never Sophie’s grandfather.”
“You were a man who wanted ownership and called it love.”
Victor raised his gun.
Police aimed.
Claire stopped breathing.
Ethan did not move.
Victor’s hand shook.
For one second, Claire thought he would fire.
Instead he lowered the weapon.
His shoulders collapsed.
Police moved forward.
Victor looked at the sky.
Then at Ethan.
“You look like Thomas.”
Ethan answered.
“I know.”
Victor dropped the gun.
Officers tackled and restrained him.
Claire closed her eyes.
It was over.
At least she believed it was.
Then Quinn’s radio sounded.
A detective from the maternity floor.
“Lieutenant.”
“We found something in the old records room.”
“What?”
A pause.
“You need to see it.”
Hours later, Claire stood in a locked records archive.
Behind a false wall, police had discovered eleven sealed infant files.
Not one.
Eleven.
All connected to Dr. Vale.
Claire stared at the names.
Different years.
Different families.
Different babies declared dead.
Her stomach turned.
“Rose wasn’t the first.”
Quinn shook her head.
“No.”
“And Victor?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Claire stared at the files.
The conspiracy that destroyed her family might have destroyed ten others.
The truth was not ending.
May you like
It was getting larger.
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