Chapter 13 - The Woman at the Window
We spent hours trying to explain Owen's statement.
Children invent things.
Imaginary friends.
Dreams.
Memories mixed together.
There had to be an explanation.
Then Mara showed me the security footage from their old house.
At 2:14 a.m., a woman appeared outside the children's bedroom.
Gray coat.
Dark hair.
She stood there for eleven seconds.
Then disappeared.
I watched it three times.
"Can you enhance the face?"
The technician did.
The image sharpened.
I stopped breathing.
It was my mother.
Or someone who looked exactly like her.
I called the police.
They identified the woman as a person who had no record.
Then Daniel made one phone call.
An hour later, he had an answer.
"Her name is Claire Cross."
"Cross?"
"My mother's maiden name."
I stared.
"You're saying she's alive?"
"I'm saying someone is using her identity."
We traced the woman to a small coastal town in Maine.
We drove there before sunrise.
The house was empty.
But a photograph sat on the kitchen table.
My mother.
Me.
The boys.
All taken recently.
Someone had been watching us.
Again.
Then I saw a note.
Adrian,
If you want to know why I disappeared, come alone.
Mara grabbed my arm.
"Don't."
"I have to."
"No."
She shook her head.
"We've already lost six years."
I looked at her.
"I'm not losing another day."
We entered the house together.
A door opened upstairs.
A woman stepped onto the balcony.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
Familiar eyes.
My knees nearly gave out.
"Mom?"
She cried.
"Adrian."
I couldn't move.
She came downstairs.
I stared at her.
"You died."
"I had to."
"Why?"
"To protect you."
I laughed bitterly.
"Protect me?"
She reached for me.
I stepped back.
"You let me believe you were dead."
"I had no choice."
"You let me believe Dad loved me."
"He didn't."
"You let me believe Grandfather was protecting us."
"He wasn't."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
She looked toward Mara.
"Because I knew they were watching you."
Then she looked at the boys.
"And because I knew what they wanted."
I swallowed.
"What?"
She whispered:
"One of the boys."
"Which one?"
She looked at Owen.
My heart stopped.
"Why Owen?"
"Because Owen is the only one who wasn't supposed to be born."
I stared.
"What does that mean?"
She began to cry.
"Because he was the result of an experiment."
Mara stepped forward.
"What experiment?"
My mother looked at her.
"Genetic selection."
Silence.
"Your grandfather wanted a male heir who carried specific genetic markers."
My stomach turned.
"He used my DNA."
"Yes."
"And Mara?"
"She was chosen because of her family history."
Mara went pale.
"They chose me?"
"Yes."
My mother nodded.
"They manipulated your relationship."
I felt sick.
"Then none of it was real?"
"No."
She looked at Mara.
"Not at first."
Mara's eyes filled with tears.
"What do you mean?"
My mother smiled sadly.
"Because somewhere along the way, you two actually fell in love."
I looked at Mara.
Everything we had shared.
Every memory.
Every kiss.
Every argument.
Every dream.
They might have started as a plan.
But they had become ours.
My mother continued.
"Owen was conceived using genetic material they believed would create the perfect heir."
I stared at my youngest son.
"But he's my son."
My mother nodded.
"Because you and Mara were already together."
She wiped her eyes.
"They tried to control biology."
"But they couldn't control love."
Mara began crying.
I reached for her hand.
My mother looked at us.
"There is one final secret."
I swallowed.
"What?"
She said:
"Owen isn't the heir."
"Then who is?"
She looked toward the four boys.
"All four."
I frowned.
"The trust recognizes all direct descendants."
"Then why the experiment?"
"Because your grandfather wanted one child he could control."
I understood.
He hadn't wanted an heir.
He wanted a puppet.
My mother whispered:
"And that's why he took Lucas."
I froze.
"Lucas?"
She nodded.
"Lucas was the child your grandfather believed he could legally claim."
"But why?"
"Because Lucas was the only one whose medical records gave him leverage."
Then my mother's phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face went white.
"What?"
She listened.
Then whispered:
"They found me."
A gunshot shattered the window.
My mother collapsed.
I caught her.
"Mom!"
Blood spread across her coat.
Mara screamed.
Daniel dragged us behind the wall.
Another shot.
Then silence.
I looked at my mother.
She was still breathing.
Barely.
She grabbed my wrist.
"Adrian."
"I'm here."
"Find the ledger."
"I have it."
"No."
She shook her head.
"The real one."
Her eyes closed.
"The one inside the hospital."
Then she whispered one final sentence.
"Your father isn't Richard."
I stared at her.
"What?"
She looked at Daniel.
Then me.
"Richard isn't your biological father."
Daniel stepped forward.
My mother whispered:
May you like
"Neither is Daniel."
Then she lost consciousness.
