Chapter 5 - Nobody Takes Bed Nine
We reached Pine Valley Children's Hospital in twenty-three minutes.
Sebastian didn't tell Marco to speed.
He didn't need to.
When we pulled beneath the emergency entrance, three police vehicles were already outside.
Detective Morrison stood beside them.
His expression suggested he was considering arresting Sebastian simply to improve his morning.
Then Isabella stepped out of the car.
Everything changed.
Morrison stared at her.
“Is that—”
“Yes,” I said.
Isabella didn't stop walking.
“Where's my son?”
Morrison moved with us.
“Hospital security stopped the transfer before the transport team reached the elevator.”
She nearly collapsed with relief.
Sebastian steadied her elbow.
She looked at his hand.
For a second I thought she would pull away.
She didn't.
“Is Luca okay?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What about the people who tried to take him?”
“Two are being questioned. One ran.”
Sebastian's jaw tightened.
“Who?”
Morrison pointed a finger at him.
“You stay out of it.”
“I asked a question.”
“And I heard it.”
“Then answer.”
“One of the transport workers used forged credentials. The other appears to be an actual employee who thought the order was legitimate.”
“Who authorized it?”
“We're checking.”
Sebastian looked toward the elevators.
“Vale.”
“Maybe.”
“You know it's him.”
“No. I know his name appeared on a hospital ID found inside Margaret's abandoned car.”
Isabella stopped walking.
“Where is Dr. Vale now?”
Morrison looked at her.
“According to his office, he canceled his schedule this morning.”
“Where did he go?”
“Nobody knows.”
Sebastian muttered something in Italian.
I didn't ask for a translation.
When we entered the NICU, Nurse Jenkins rushed toward me.
“I didn't let them take him.”
I hugged her.
“You did exactly right.”
She looked at Isabella.
Then understanding crossed her face.
“Oh.”
Isabella looked terrified.
“Can I see him?”
Jenkins glanced at me.
I nodded.
“Wash your hands first.”
Isabella almost laughed through her tears.
“Yes, ma'am.”
Sebastian remained several feet away while she scrubbed.
He could have walked directly to Luca.
Instead, he waited.
That mattered.
When Isabella approached bed nine, Luca was sleeping.
His chest rose and fell beneath a pale blue blanket.
She pressed both hands against the incubator.
“Hi, baby.”
Her voice broke.
Luca shifted.
His eyes remained closed.
Isabella cried silently.
Sebastian turned away.
I saw him wipe his face.
Nobody commented.
“Can I hold him?” Isabella asked.
I checked the monitor.
His numbers were stable.
Dr. Patel had cleared skin-to-skin care again.
“Yes.”
I helped Isabella into the recliner.
Then I lifted Luca.
The moment I placed him against her chest, the room changed.
His breathing slowed.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Mother and child seemed to remember each other instantly.
Sebastian stood near the doorway.
Isabella noticed.
“You can come closer.”
He did.
One step.
Then another.
He stopped beside her.
Luca stretched one tiny hand.
Sebastian offered his finger.
The baby's hand closed around it.
Isabella looked down.
Then at Sebastian.
“He did that before?”
“The first time I held him.”
“He likes you.”
Sebastian's mouth moved slightly.
“He has questionable judgment.”
She laughed.
It surprised both of them.
For half a minute, they looked almost like a normal family.
Then Detective Morrison entered.
“Sorry.”
Sebastian's expression hardened.
“No, you're not.”
“Not particularly.”
Morrison held a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a printed transfer order.
“I thought you'd want to see this.”
I studied the form.
It looked legitimate.
Hospital logo.
Patient number.
Electronic authorization.
“Who signed it?” I asked.
“Dr. Evan Vale.”
Isabella tightened her arms around Luca.
Sebastian's voice went cold.
“Find him.”
“We're trying.”
“Try harder.”
Morrison ignored him.
“There is another problem.”
Of course there was.
“The request wasn't created this morning.”
“When?” I asked.
“Six days ago.”
I frowned.
“Before Luca was born?”
“Yes.”
Nobody spoke.
Morrison pointed to the order.
“The transfer template was created using the mother's admission number four hours before delivery.”
Isabella looked confused.
“What does that mean?”
I answered.
“It means someone expected your baby to need NICU care before you delivered.”
Her face drained of color.
“Margaret knew he might be premature.”
Sebastian looked at her.
“How?”
“She kept telling me not to come here.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I started bleeding.”
“And Margaret?”
“She said Pine Valley was closest.”
Something didn't fit.
“If she wanted you away from Pine Valley,” I asked, “why bring you here?”
“She didn't.”
Isabella stared at Luca.
“Noah did.”
Sebastian's attention sharpened.
“Your boyfriend?”
“He found me when I collapsed outside a grocery store. Margaret wasn't home. Noah drove me here.”
“And then?”
“I called Margaret.”
“What did she say?”
Isabella's eyes filled.
“She screamed.”
Sebastian looked at Morrison.
“She knew someone was waiting.”
Morrison nodded slowly.
“Maybe.”
“And Noah?”
Isabella's voice shook.
“He disappeared a few hours later.”
Morrison wrote something.
“We'll locate him.”
Sebastian glanced at his phone.
“I already have people—”
“No.”
Morrison and I said it simultaneously.
Sebastian looked offended.
“You two are becoming irritating.”
“Good,” Morrison said. “Means we're doing our jobs.”
Isabella looked between them.
“Is this normal?”
“For your father?” I asked.
“Very.”
Sebastian gave me a look.
The tension eased for two seconds.
Then Nadia entered holding a consent form.
“I've spoken with legal.”
Isabella looked at her.
“About what?”
“DNA.”
The room fell silent.
Nadia sat beside her.
“You don't have to do anything. Nobody can force you.”
Isabella looked at Sebastian.
He took one step backward.
“I won't ask.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“You don't want to know?”
“More than anything.”
“Then why not ask?”
“Because everyone has been deciding things for you since you were born.”
He looked at Luca.
“I won't be another one.”
Isabella stared at him for a long time.
Then she looked at me.
“What would the test involve?”
“A cheek swab.”
“No needles?”
“No.”
“For Luca too?”
“We don't need Luca to determine whether Sebastian is your biological father.”
She nodded slowly.
Then picked up the pen.
Sebastian didn't move.
She signed.
“Do it.”
His eyes closed briefly.
The samples were collected.
Results would take hours even with expedited testing.
While we waited, Morrison returned to Margaret's records.
At three in the afternoon, he received a call.
His face changed.
“Where?”
He walked toward the conference room.
Sebastian followed.
I followed Sebastian.
Isabella refused to be left behind, though she agreed Luca would remain securely in the NICU with Jenkins.
Morrison ended the call.
“They found Margaret.”
Isabella grabbed the table.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Where?”
“A motel forty miles north.”
“Can I see her?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
Morrison hesitated.
“She was found unconscious.”
Isabella's face crumpled.
“Is she hurt?”
“She's being taken to a hospital.”
Sebastian's jaw tightened.
“What happened?”
“We don't know.”
“Was she alone?”
Morrison looked at him.
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who was with her?”
“A seventeen-year-old boy.”
Isabella gasped.
“Noah.”
Morrison nodded.
“He's alive.”
She covered her mouth.
“But there's something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“The motel room was registered under another name.”
Sebastian folded his arms.
“Whose?”
Morrison slid a photocopied registration form across the table.
I looked at the signature.
Then at him.
“That can't be right.”
“Oh, it's right.”
The name printed on the registration was:
ELENA MORETTI.
Sebastian's face went blank.
Isabella whispered, “My mother?”
Sebastian shook his head.
“No.”
Morrison watched him.
“Are you sure Elena died?”
Sebastian looked as though the room had tilted.
“I saw her body.”
That was different.
For Isabella, he had trusted a sealed casket.
For Elena, he had seen her.
“Then who registered the room?” I asked.
Morrison placed a second photograph on the table.
A motel security camera image.
An older woman stood outside room 214.
Silver hair.
Dark glasses.
Her face partially turned.
Sebastian stared.
“No.”
Isabella looked at him.
“What?”
He backed away from the table.
“No.”
“Who is she?”
His lips parted.
For the first time, Sebastian Moretti looked genuinely terrified.
“That woman…”
His voice barely worked.
“…is my mother.”
Isabella stared at the photograph.
“Your mother?”
“She died ten years ago.”
Morrison leaned back.
“Apparently your family has a complicated relationship with death certificates.”
Sebastian didn't react.
He just stared at the image.
Then Isabella asked:
“What was her name?”
Sebastian answered without looking away.
“Vittoria Moretti.”
The girl slowly sat.
“So my grandmother is alive?”
Sebastian looked toward bed nine.
“Either that…”
May you like
He picked up the photograph.
“…or someone has been lying to all of us for much longer than seventeen years.”
