Chapter 12 - ELEVEN CHILDREN
Victor stepped from the shadows.
He wasn't alone.
Three men stood behind him.
Natalie moved closer to Lucas.
But Victor wasn't looking at the boy.
He was looking at the list.
"You have no idea what you've uncovered."
I stepped forward.
"I know enough."
"You know nothing."
"You stole children."
"I saved them."
"You tortured them."
"I treated them."
"You murdered families."
His expression hardened.
"Families who couldn't afford to protect their children."
I laughed.
"You expect me to believe you're a hero?"
"No."
He looked at Natalie.
"I expect you to understand that your wife would have died without me."
I stepped toward him.
"You falsified her diagnosis."
"I gave her access to treatment."
"She didn't have cancer."
Victor smiled.
"Not yet."
The words chilled me.
"What?"
He continued:
"The tumor was benign."
"Then why—"
"Because the treatment wasn't about cancer."
Natalie looked confused.
Victor explained:
"We needed a biological match."
"For what?"
"Lucas."
He believed Lucas's genetic marker could help treat a rare disease.
But instead of pursuing legitimate research, he had stolen children from vulnerable families.
I looked at the eleven photographs.
"What happened to them?"
"Some are alive."
"Where?"
"Scattered."
"Tell me."
He smiled.
"Give me the archive."
"No."
"Then you lose them."
I stepped closer.
"You already lost."
He laughed.
"You think the police can stop me?"
"Not the police."
I held up my phone.
"The whole country."
His smile disappeared.
The recorder had been transmitting.
Everything he said had been recorded.
Marcus had arranged it.
Victor realized it too late.
Sirens sounded above us.
His men panicked.
Victor turned.
I tackled him.
We crashed into the floor.
He fought like a desperate man.
But this time, I wasn't afraid.
I wasn't fighting for money.
I wasn't fighting for revenge.
I was fighting for twelve children.
The agents stormed the basement.
Victor was arrested.
Again.
This time, there would be no escape.
Chloe was found alive in another building.
She gave investigators the locations of several children.
Within weeks, the first three were rescued.
Then two more.
Then another.
One by one.
Families who had spent years grieving were reunited.
And our family began healing too.
Natalie underwent surgery.
The tumor was removed.
The doctors confirmed it was benign.
The scar remained.
So did the shaved head.
But she survived.
Lucas started school.
At first, he barely spoke.
Then one afternoon, he came home carrying a drawing.
It showed three people.
Me.
Natalie.
And him.
Above us was a yellow sun.
I looked at it for a long time.
"What's this?"
"Our family."
I smiled.
"You forgot something."
"What?"
I pointed to a small figure in the corner.
"You."
He laughed.
"That's you."
"No, that's you."
He shook his head.
"No. That's you."
We laughed.
For the first time, our house sounded like a home.
But there was one person still missing.
Diane.
She had testified against Victor.
In exchange, prosecutors reduced some of her charges.
But she still had to face prison.
Before she left, she asked to see Natalie.
I almost refused.
Natalie didn't.
They sat together.
Diane cried.
"I'm sorry."
Natalie looked at her.
"Sorry doesn't give me back seven years."
"I know."
"It doesn't give him back his childhood."
"I know."
"It doesn't erase what you did."
Diane nodded.
"I know."
Natalie stood.
Then said:
"But I don't want to carry your hatred anymore."
Diane cried harder.
"Why?"
"Because I've already carried enough."
She walked away.
I watched Diane disappear behind the prison doors.
I expected to feel satisfaction.
Instead, I felt tired.
Not empty.
Just finished.
At least, I thought I was.
Until Marcus called three days later.
He said:
"We found another document."
I asked:
"What document?"
"The retirement account."
"What's wrong with it?"
"The million dollars was never yours."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Marcus paused.
"It was a trap."
"Whose money was it?"
"Victor's."
My blood went cold.
"Then why offer it to me?"
Marcus said:
"Because they wanted you to sign away something worth much more."
"What?"
He sent me a document.
I opened it.
And my heart stopped.
It wasn't an asset transfer.
It was a medical consent form.
With my signature forged at the bottom.
The consent authorized experimental treatment—
May you like
for Lucas.
:::
