Chapter 14 — The Last Hidden Child
For several seconds, nobody understood what Celia had said.
Not because the words were unclear.
Because they were impossible.
Two hidden children.
Two lives erased.
Two secrets buried beneath the same family name.
Nathan looked at Edmund.
The old solicitor stood completely still.
“Is it true?”
Edmund did not answer.
And that silence was enough.
Nathan’s voice hardened.
“Is it true, Edmund?”
The older man finally looked up.
“Yes.”
Celia closed her eyes.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Nathan felt something break inside him.
Not because of Edmund.
Not anymore.
He had already accepted that Edmund’s life was built on complicated choices.
What hurt was realizing how many people had spent decades deciding what truths he was allowed to know.
“Who is the second child?”
Edmund looked at Celia.
She shook her head.
“No.”
Nathan turned toward her.
“Celia.”
She looked terrified.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“Find out what?”
Her hands moved protectively over her stomach.
The same gesture she had made throughout the night.
Only now Nathan understood.
It wasn’t only about the baby.
It was about fear.
About a history repeating itself.
“Celia?”
She took a deep breath.
“My mother told me before she died.”
Nathan waited.
“She said Edmund had another child after Alexander.”
Edmund looked away.
“Who?”
Celia whispered:
“Me.”
The room became silent.
Nathan frowned.
“What?”
She looked at him.
“I am the second child.”
For a moment, Nathan thought he misunderstood.
“But you already knew Edmund was your father.”
“Yes.”
“Then why say—”
Celia shook her head.
“No.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t mean I am the second child Edmund had.”
A pause.
“I mean I am the second child he hid.”
Nathan stared.
The meaning slowly reached him.
“No.”
Celia nodded.
“Yes.”
Edmund stepped forward.
“Celia—”
“Don’t.”
Her voice stopped him.
For the first time, she looked angry.
Not afraid.
Angry.
“You protected Alexander because you thought he deserved the truth.”
She looked at him.
“Why didn’t I?”
Edmund had no answer.
Nathan looked between them.
“Explain.”
Celia took a shaky breath.
“My mother was Evelyn Hart.”
Nathan nodded.
Everyone knew that.
“She worked here.”
“Yes.”
“And Edmund was her secret.”
“Yes.”
Celia looked at Alexander.
“But before my mother, there was another woman.”
Alexander’s expression changed.
“Clara.”
Celia nodded.
“Alexander was the first hidden child.”
She looked at Nathan.
“I was the second.”
Nathan felt overwhelmed.
“But why hide you?”
Edmund finally spoke.
“Because your grandfather found out.”
“And?”
“He used Celia as proof.”
Nathan frowned.
“Proof of what?”
“That I could be controlled.”
The room became silent.
Edmund continued.
“Your grandfather threatened Evelyn. He threatened Alexander. He threatened anyone who could expose the family.”
Celia wiped her tears.
“So I grew up knowing I was someone’s secret.”
Nathan looked at her.
“And you never told me.”
She looked away.
“I was afraid you would look at me differently.”
Nathan felt the weight of those words.
Because suddenly he understood.
Celia wasn’t just part of the mystery.
She was another victim of it.
Then Alexander spoke.
“There’s still something missing.”
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed to the journal.
“The message said the second child was never Alexander.”
He looked at Celia.
“Then why was it written?”
Edmund walked toward the old chest.
He removed another document.
“I found this years ago.”
Nathan stared.
“Another secret?”
Edmund nodded.
“The final one.”
He opened the paper.
Inside was a birth record.
But the name had been crossed out.
Nathan looked closer.
Then froze.
Because the name written underneath was not Alexander.
Not Celia.
Not anyone they expected.
It was:
Nathan Ashcombe.
The room went completely silent.
“What is that?”
Beatrice whispered.
Edmund looked at Nathan.
“Your birth record was changed.”
Nathan felt cold.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Edmund hesitated.
Then said:
“Because the Ashcombe family didn’t just hide children.”
A pause.
“They changed who those children were.”
Nathan stared at the document.
His entire identity suddenly felt uncertain.
“Who am I?”
Nobody answered.
Then the door above them slammed shut.
A voice came from the staircase.
A voice they all recognized.
Sophie.
“Nathan…”
Everyone turned.
Sophie stood there, pale and shaking.
In her hand was an old photograph.
“I know why Poppy saw the man with the red ring.”
Nathan stepped toward her.
“Why?”
Sophie looked at the photograph.
Then whispered:
“Because my daughter didn’t see the past.”
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A pause.
“She saw what happened last night.”
