CHAPTER 5 – Blackwood Manor
The photograph was taken less than an hour earlier.
The metadata confirmed it.
A weathered stone mansion stood against a backdrop of pine-covered mountains. Above the entrance, carved into the granite archway, were two words:
BLACKWOOD MANOR
No address.
No coordinates.
Just the image... and Victor's invitation.
Rebecca stared at the screen.
"It's a trap."
"I know."
"Then you're not going."
I slipped my phone into my pocket.
"I didn't say I was going today."
By noon, federal agencies were scrambling.
Victor Voss had escaped during what appeared to be a routine prison transfer.
Except it hadn't been routine.
The armored vehicle had been rerouted at the last minute.
The GPS had been disabled.
Every security camera along the route malfunctioned within the same ninety seconds.
Too perfect.
Someone inside the government had helped him.
Marcus Hale arrived at the hospital carrying a sealed case file.
"I wish I had better news."
"You found the leak?"
"We found dozens."
He spread photographs across the conference table.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Hospital executives.
State officials.
Several had accepted donations from foundations secretly controlled by the Voss family.
One picture caught my attention.
A smiling senator stood beside Victor at a charity gala.
The date printed beneath it made my stomach tighten.
It was taken only six months ago.
Victor hadn't just built a medical empire.
He had built protection.
Meanwhile, Claire insisted on reading the evidence herself.
"I've hidden long enough."
She sat in bed, slowly turning the pages of Project Lullaby.
Medical charts.
Financial transfers.
Internal emails.
Then she stopped.
"Mom..."
I looked up.
Her fingers trembled over a staff roster dated eight years earlier.
There, halfway down the page, was a familiar name.
Claire Hale – Volunteer Intern
She stared at it in disbelief.
"I worked here during college."
"I remember."
"I filed newborn records."
Neither of us spoke.
Claire turned another page.
Then another.
Suddenly she covered her mouth.
"What is it?"
"There are signatures."
She pointed to several transfer forms.
The handwriting belonged to her.
Or so it appeared.
"I never signed these."
Someone had forged her name.
Hundreds of times.
Rebecca immediately ordered a forensic handwriting analysis.
The results came back astonishingly fast.
The signatures were indeed fake.
But they weren't random forgeries.
Every signature had been copied from Claire's original volunteer application.
Someone had preserved her handwriting for years...
Waiting for the perfect moment to use it.
Claire looked horrified.
"They planned this before Daniel and I even met."
Rebecca nodded.
"I think they chose you."
Across the country, analysts searched every property ever owned by the Voss family.
One address resurfaced repeatedly.
Blackwood Manor.
Abandoned fifteen years earlier.
Officially.
Satellite imagery told another story.
Fresh vehicle tracks.
Power usage.
Water consumption.
Someone still lived there.
That evening, a convoy of federal vehicles quietly departed for the mountains.
Rebecca led the operation.
SWAT officers.
Forensic teams.
Medical specialists.
Everyone expected resistance.
No one expected what they found.
The mansion was empty.
Not abandoned.
Prepared.
Dinner still sat warm on a dining table.
A fireplace burned gently.
Classical music played through hidden speakers.
Someone had left only minutes before.
On the grand staircase hung a massive family portrait.
Victor.
His late wife.
A teenage Daniel.
And...
A little girl.
Rebecca frowned.
"Who's she?"
No one knew.
The nameplate beneath the painting had been deliberately scratched away.
While agents searched upstairs, one officer discovered an old nursery.
Dust covered everything except one object.
A wooden rocking horse.
It moved slightly.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Though no windows were open.
The officer stepped closer.
A faint crying sound echoed beneath the floorboards.
He froze.
"Rebecca!"
Within minutes, forensic technicians removed the wooden flooring.
Underneath lay a steel hatch.
When they opened it, cold air rushed upward.
A tunnel stretched into darkness.
Lights were installed along the walls.
Someone had used it recently.
The tunnel extended nearly half a mile beneath the mountain.
At the end stood a circular steel door.
Behind it...
A vast underground archive.
Not medical records.
Children's records.
Thousands of them.
Photographs.
DNA profiles.
Adoption files.
Video recordings.
Each child had been assigned a number instead of a name.
One technician whispered,
"This is impossible..."
Rebecca slowly walked past row after row of shelves.
Then she noticed a large world map.
Hundreds of colored pins marked locations across Europe, Asia, South America, and North America.
Children had not simply disappeared.
They had been sent somewhere.
All over the world.
Back at St. Gabriel, Claire suddenly went into labor.
The contractions struck without warning.
Doctors rushed her toward the operating suite.
Rebecca was still hours away.
I refused to leave Claire's side.
As nurses prepared the room, the fetal monitor suddenly emitted an alarm.
The baby's heartbeat dropped.
One obstetrician frowned.
"That's strange."
Another checked the equipment.
"The readings don't match."
A third doctor entered carrying Claire's chart.
"I'll take over from here."
I looked at his face.
I'd never seen him before.
Neither had the other doctors.
"Who are you?" I asked.
He smiled politely.
"I'm the replacement anesthesiologist."
Something inside me went cold.
Because his identification badge looked genuine...
But the name printed across it was one I had already seen.
On the Project Lullaby files.
Next to three unexplained maternal deaths.
He calmly closed the operating room door.
Then looked directly at me.
May you like
And smiled.
"I've been waiting for this delivery."
