Chapter 4 - The Baby They Were Going to Buy
For several seconds, nobody moved.
My father stared at my phone as though he had misheard.
“A newborn?”
Maya’s voice trembled through the speaker.
“Yes.”
“That is impossible.”
“I saw the contracts.”
“What contracts?”
“Private adoption documents.”
I felt my stomach turn.
“You’re saying Mom planned to fake a pregnancy and then bring home an actual baby?”
“Yes.”
My father looked sick.
“How?”
“Caleb had a contact.”
“Who?”
“I only know her first name.”
“Monica.”
Victor muttered a curse from his hospital bed.
My father asked, “Was the mother giving the child up legally?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means no.”
“I really don’t know.”
Maya began crying quietly.
“I thought Rebecca was using a surrogate.”
My father’s expression hardened.
“You created fake medical records for a woman you thought was using a surrogate?”
“She told me she needed the pregnancy to appear biological because her husband’s family trust had restrictions.”
My father looked at me.
Another lie.
Maya continued.
“I create medical mockups for advertising companies.”
“Caleb approached my employer privately.”
“He paid me to build a demonstration portal.”
“He told me it was for a television production.”
“When did you realize it was real?”
“Rebecca started sending me specific appointment dates.”
“Then she asked me to duplicate Crestview Women’s Clinic branding.”
I asked, “Why didn’t you stop?”
“I should have.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She went silent.
“Money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Thirty thousand dollars.”
My father laughed bitterly.
Everyone around my mother seemed to have a price.
Maya continued.
“I told myself it was a marital deception.”
“Ugly, but private.”
“Then I saw the adoption contract.”
“What did it say?”
“The child would be transferred to a trust after birth.”
My father frowned.
“What trust?”
“Lily Grace Family Trust.”
My skin went cold.
Lily.
The imaginary baby had a trust.
My father asked, “Who was trustee?”
“Rebecca.”
“Anyone else?”
“Caleb was successor trustee.”
Silence.
My father sat again.
If a real newborn had entered the house as Lily, my father might never have questioned it.
He had been excluded from every appointment under the excuse that my mother wanted a “calm pregnancy.”
The delivery plan could have been manipulated too.
Emergency labor.
Private hospital.
No visitors.
Baby introduced afterward.
My mother knew he trusted her.
That was the weapon.
“Where are those contracts?”
My father asked.
“I copied them.”
“Where?”
“Safe place.”
“I want them.”
“I want immunity.”
My father’s expression hardened.
“I am not a prosecutor.”
“Then get one.”
“You committed fraud against my family.”
“I know.”
“You helped convince me my wife was carrying my child.”
“I know.”
“You helped her manipulate company decisions.”
“I didn’t know about the company.”
My father laughed.
“Everybody did not know something.”
Maya stopped speaking.
Then she whispered, “I can prove Caleb paid me from Northbridge.”
My father’s expression changed.
“That matters.”
“I know.”
“And I have the email where Rebecca asked how realistic a premature birth story would be.”
My stomach turned.
“Premature?”
“She planned to introduce the baby early.”
“How early?”
“Thirty-two weeks.”
That explained the timeline.
My mother did not need to maintain the lie for nine months.
She only needed to reach the anniversary.
Then a “premature birth” could conveniently happen.
The baby would arrive.
The equity trust would activate.
The marriage could collapse afterward.
Rebecca would control shares as guardian.
Caleb would become successor trustee.
My father would have no reason to suspect the child was not his unless DNA testing occurred.
And why would a loving father test a newborn he believed he had watched grow inside his wife?
The elegance of the fraud disgusted me.
My father whispered, “I would have believed her.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
He did not defend himself.
That was progress.
Susan Parker arrived at the hospital before midnight.
We explained everything.
Her face became increasingly grim.
“This is no longer just divorce fraud.”
“What is it?”
I asked.
“Potential conspiracy.”
“Forgery.”
“Wire fraud.”
“Corporate theft.”
“Possibly attempted unlawful child transfer depending on the facts.”
My father looked toward Victor.
“And possible poisoning.”
Susan nodded.
“That too.”
She called two people.
A forensic accountant.
A former federal prosecutor named Tom Brennan.
Then she looked at my father.
“Daniel, tomorrow morning you go to work.”
He stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You behave normally.”
“My wife just fled.”
“Tell people she went to stay with family after a marital argument.”
“Caleb?”
“Do not confront him.”
My father hated that.
I could see it.
Susan continued.
“If he believes Rebecca is still maintaining the pregnancy story, he may continue preparing the transfer.”
“He knows the belly fell.”
“Rebecca knows.”
“That does not mean she told him everything.”
I checked the burner phone.
She had.
THE BELLY FELL.
GET OUT NOW.
But perhaps Caleb did not know we found the blue file.
I showed Susan.
She read the messages.
“Good.”
“How is that good?”
“He thinks the exposure is domestic.”
“He may not know you found financial documents.”
My father understood.
“So we let him believe the pregnancy lie is the only problem.”
“Yes.”
Victor smiled faintly.
“Finally, someone listens to me.”
Helen rolled her eyes.
My father stood.
“I want a security team at Anna’s apartment.”
I objected immediately.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Anna.”
“I am not hiding.”
“This is not about pride.”
“Neither is my answer.”
Susan intervened.
“Security is reasonable.”
I sighed.
“Fine.”
My father’s phone rang.
Rebecca.
Everyone froze.
Susan raised a finger.
“Answer.”
My father put the call on speaker.
“Rebecca.”
She was crying.
“Daniel, please.”
My father looked at Susan.
She nodded for him to continue.
“Where are you?”
“My sister’s.”
A lie.
Maya had said Arlington with Martin Keene.
“Why?”
“Because I’m scared of you.”
I nearly laughed.
My father’s face hardened.
“What have I done?”
“You threw me out.”
“I told you to stay with Diane.”
“You humiliated me in front of Anna.”
“You faked a pregnancy.”
Rebecca started crying harder.
“I already told you why.”
My father spoke carefully.
“You said you were afraid I would leave.”
“Yes.”
“Is that all?”
A pause.
I watched Susan.
She heard it too.
“Yes.”
My father looked down.
“Come home tomorrow.”
Everyone stared at him.
Even I almost reacted.
Rebecca stopped crying.
“What?”
“We need to talk privately.”
“Without Anna?”
My jaw tightened.
My father looked at me.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt.
Then I realized what he was doing.
Rebecca exhaled.
“Okay.”
My father continued.
“Maybe I reacted too quickly.”
Susan wrote on a notepad.
GOOD.
Rebecca’s voice softened.
“I knew you still loved me.”
My father’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“We have twenty-nine years together.”
“Yes.”
“Come home tomorrow at six.”
“I will.”
“Bring the trust paperwork.”
Silence.
Rebecca became cautious.
“Why?”
“Because if there is any chance of saving this marriage, I want to understand everything.”
“Daniel…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t have the paperwork.”
“Martin does.”
There it was.
Direct confirmation.
My father glanced at Susan.
“Then bring Martin.”
Rebecca hesitated.
“He doesn’t need to be involved.”
“He drafted it.”
“Yes.”
“Bring him.”
Another pause.
“I’ll ask.”
The call ended.
My father placed the phone down slowly.
His face was pale.
“You told her you might save the marriage.”
I said.
“I know.”
“Can you do this?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“But I can pretend for one evening.”
Susan nodded.
“Good.”
My phone vibrated again.
Maya.
SHE IS LYING TO YOU.
I typed.
ABOUT WHAT?
The response came immediately.
SHE IS NOT AT MARTIN’S ANYMORE.
WHERE IS SHE?
Three dots.
Then:
WITH THE WOMAN WHO HAS THE BABY.
My heart pounded.
WHAT BABY?
The response appeared.
THE ONE REBECCA WAS SUPPOSED TO BRING HOME AS LILY.
I looked at my father.
He read the message.
For the first time that night, genuine fear crossed his face.
Because somewhere in the city, my mother might already have access to a real newborn.
And if she could still produce a child before the anniversary, then the lie was not over.
May you like
It had simply changed form.
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