Chapter 8 - AMELIA’S MEMORY
Charles survived the gunshot.
The bullet passed through his shoulder without striking an artery.
Ethan felt no relief.
Not yet.
Before allowing paramedics to sedate him, Ethan demanded the location of Amelia.
Charles finally gave it.
A farmhouse near Beacon, New York.
Ethan’s security team arrived first.
The property was empty.
But Amelia had been there.
Her medication sat beside the bed.
A half-finished glass of water rested on the nightstand.
On the wall, someone had scratched four numbers repeatedly into the paint.
11.
12.
13.
14.
Samuel studied them.
“Could be dates.”
Ethan knew better.
“Account numbers.”
Charles had said Amelia remembered an account.
The numbers might be part of it.
Then Ethan noticed something beneath the bed.
A piece of folded paper.
It contained a child’s drawing.
Three people holding hands.
A mother.
A father.
A little girl.
Above them, Amelia had written one sentence.
LILY IS ALIVE.
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed.
For seven years, Amelia had lived between drugged confusion and brief moments of clarity.
Yet somewhere inside that fog, she had continued searching for their child.
Samuel entered.
“We found security footage from a gas station two miles away.”
Victor’s vehicle had passed forty minutes earlier.
“Direction?”
“South.”
“Toward Manhattan?”
“Looks that way.”
Ethan’s phone rang.
Margaret Sloan.
“The board meeting starts in ninety minutes.”
“Proceed.”
“Without you?”
“I’ll join remotely.”
“Victor is already here.”
Ethan looked toward the highway.
“Good.”
Margaret lowered her voice.
“He brought Malcolm Reed.”
Ethan almost smiled.
Victor believed Reed was his strongest witness.
He had no idea Ethan had Nora.
Charles.
Medical records.
Hospital footage.
And Lily.
But Ethan still did not have Amelia.
That mattered more than the company.
Then Lily called.
Her voice was shaking.
“Daddy?”
Ethan’s heart tightened at the word.
“What happened?”
“There’s a lady outside.”
“Where are you?”
“At the safe house.”
“Stay inside.”
“She says she knows Mommy.”
Ethan signaled security immediately.
“What lady?”
Lily whispered.
“She says her name is Rebecca Cole.”
Ethan remembered.
The mother of the dead baby whose identification band had been switched with Lily’s.
Rebecca had been searching for the truth for seven years.
“How did she find you?”
“She said somebody called her.”
“Who?”
Before Lily could answer, a loud crash sounded through the phone.
Then shouting.
Ethan stood.
“Lily!”
The connection died.
Within seconds, the safe-house security commander called.
“We have an attempted breach.”
“Is my daughter safe?”
“Yes.”
“But Rebecca Cole was shot outside the front gate.”
“By whom?”
“We don’t know.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Victor was cleaning up everyone connected to the hospital fire.
Rebecca might be the next witness he feared.
“Keep her alive.”
“She was conscious for a few seconds.”
“What did she say?”
The commander hesitated.
“She kept repeating one sentence.”
May you like
Ethan waited.
“She said Amelia gave birth to two babies.”
