Chapter 31 - The Other Crib
The crying started again before anyone could tell me where it was coming from.
Not from the hallway.
Not from the archive terminal.
From behind the wall.
A thin, exhausted cry.
Then another.
I turned toward the sound.
“Where?”
Bennett was already moving.
“Everybody stay behind me.”
“No.”
I pushed past him.
“That’s a child.”
“We don't know what it is.”
“I do.”
The cry came again.
I ran toward the nearest storage corridor.
Arthur shouted my name.
I didn't stop.
The archive had been built like a fortress, but now its own walls were betraying it. With the Blackwell system locked, doors that had been sealed for decades were suddenly opening one after another.
A red indicator blinked over a narrow maintenance door.
Bennett grabbed the handle.
Locked.
Then Evelyn reached into her coat.
“Wait.”
She held up the small archive key I'd used at the terminal.
“There may be another function.”
“Give it to me.”
She hesitated.
I snatched it.
I pressed the key against the reader.
The light turned green.
The wall clicked.
The door opened.
And I stopped breathing.
There was a nursery on the other side.
Not a hospital nursery.
A real one.
Two cribs.
A changing table.
A bottle warmer.
Stacks of diapers.
A rocking chair.
A tiny night-light shaped like a moon.
And an old white blanket draped over one of the cribs.
My mother had stolen that blanket.
I knew it immediately.
It was one of the gifts from my baby shower.
The one she'd taken before the party even ended.
I'd searched her house for it afterward.
She told me she'd donated it.
She hadn't.
It was here.
On a crib beside a child who was crying so hard his whole body shook.
I rushed forward.
The baby couldn't have been more than eight months old.
His cheeks were wet.
His fists were clenched.
I lifted him.
He stopped crying for one second.
Then buried his face against my shoulder.
“Oh God.”
My eyes filled.
“Who is he?”
Arthur stood in the doorway, staring.
“I don't know.”
Bennett crossed the room.
There was a card taped to the inside of the crib.
No name.
No date of birth.
Just four characters.
B-04.
Daniel walked in behind us.
His expression changed the moment he saw it.
“That's not a room number.”
“What is it?”
“Beneficiary four.”
I looked down at the baby.
“Another one?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He crouched beside the crib.
“Not another beneficiary.”
“Then what?”
“A control specimen.”
My stomach turned.
“Don't call him that.”
Daniel looked at me.
“I didn't make the system.”
“But you know what it means.”
“Yes.”
He pointed toward the wall.
There were photographs.
Dozens of them.
Children.
Some newborns.
Some toddlers.
Some teenagers.
Each picture had a code.
B-01.
B-02.
B-03.
B-04.
My arms tightened around the baby.
“What did Blackwell do to these children?”
“We don't know.”
Evelyn stepped forward.
“I do.”
Everyone looked at her.
She swallowed.
“They were all connected to inheritance disputes.”
“Connected how?”
“DNA.”
The word barely came out.
I stared at her.
“You knew about this?”
“I knew there were records.”
“You knew there were children?”
She looked away.
“Not all of them.”
“Mom.”
Her face crumpled.
“I was told the files were medical samples.”
“You lied.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You stole my baby's blanket.”
She looked at me.
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because someone was looking for something.”
“What?”
She shook her head.
“I didn't know what it was.”
Bennett walked to the changing table and opened the bottom drawer.
Inside were envelopes.
Bank statements.
Receipts.
Medical reports.
And one folded piece of paper.
He opened it.
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
At the top was the amount.
$68,420.
Underneath was a transaction reference I'd never seen.
BLACKWELL FAMILY SUPPORT DISBURSEMENT.
I stared.
“That's the money I stopped sending my mother.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Claire…”
“You told me you needed the money to pay for the house.”
“I did.”
“You spent it here?”
“Some of it.”
“How much?”
She didn't answer.
“Mom.”
“All of it.”
The room went silent.
“You took sixty-eight thousand four hundred twenty dollars from me?”
“I didn't steal it.”
“It was my money.”
“I know.”
“Then what was it?”
She looked at the baby in my arms.
“Protection.”
Bennett picked up another document.
“This isn't protection.”
I looked at him.
“What is it?”
He turned the paper around.
It was a payment ledger.
The recipient account was listed as a security company.
A second line showed the actual destination.
BLACKWELL RESIDENTIAL HOLDING.
I looked at my mother.
“You were paying them.”
“No.”
“You were.”
“I was paying to keep the records buried.”
“What records?”
She whispered:
“Your son's.”
My heart stopped.
“You knew about him before he was born.”
“I knew somebody was watching the pregnancy.”
“Who?”
“Eleanor.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because the moment I told you, they would know I was talking.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“You weren't working for Blackwell.”
“No.”
“You were trying to buy time.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough for the baby to be born.”
The child stirred against my chest.
His tiny fingers grabbed the fabric of my shirt.
I looked down.
He felt warm.
Alive.
Terrified.
Then I noticed something around his ankle.
A hospital band.
The ink had faded.
But one line remained.
MOTHER: UNKNOWN.
FATHER: UNKNOWN.
I looked at Daniel.
“Who is this baby's mother?”
Before he could answer, every light in the nursery turned off.
The baby screamed.
Something moved behind us.
Bennett drew his weapon.
Arthur stepped in front of me.
Then a speaker crackled above the door.
Thomas's voice filled the room.
“You finally found B-04.”
I turned toward the speaker.
“Where's my son?”
Silence.
Then:
“Still alive.”
“Where?”
“Not where Eleanor thinks.”
“What did you do?”
Thomas inhaled.
“I saved him once.”
His voice broke.
“I may not be able to do it twice.”
“What does that mean?”
The speaker clicked.
May you like
Then Thomas said six words that made my blood turn cold.
“The fourth heir has him now.”
