Chapter 8 - THE FOURTH CHILDNobody slept that night.
Claire packed anyway.
One suitcase for herself.
One backpack for Sophie.
She folded quickly, refusing to look at the room as though it had ever been home.
Because it hadn’t.
Not really.
Five days.
That was all.
Five impossible days.
Yet Sophie cried when Claire told her they were leaving.
“What about Noah?”
“He has his dad.”
“Caleb?”
“His dad.”
“Miles?”
Claire hesitated.
“His dad.”
Sophie stared at her.
“You like Mr. Moretti.”
Claire nearly dropped a sweater.
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do.”
“He’s my employer.”
“You look at him weird.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“He looks at you weird too.”
“Sophie.”
“What?”
Claire zipped the suitcase.
“We’re leaving because it’s dangerous.”
Sophie’s expression changed.
“Is our apartment safer?”
Claire stopped.
Their apartment had a broken lobby lock.
No security.
Windows accessible from the fire escape.
And Victor knew Claire’s identity.
Her daughter’s identity.
Her history.
Claire sat on the bed.
That was the problem.
Leaving the Moretti estate would not remove them from the situation.
It would only remove protection.
A knock sounded.
Adrian.
Of course.
He stood in the doorway and looked at the suitcase.
“You’re leaving.”
“I was.”
“Was?”
“I’ve realized whoever Victor works with knows where we live.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“You and Sophie will stay.”
“That sounded less like a request.”
“It wasn’t.”
Claire glared.
He sighed.
“Please.”
Better.
“Until?”
“Until I know you’re safe.”
“And the children?”
His face changed.
“I’m taking them away.”
“Where?”
“One of my properties in Vermont.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Claire folded her arms.
“And you?”
“Finding Elena.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“We’ve discussed your habit of giving orders.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You have four children now.”
“I may have four.”
“That girl is your daughter.”
“I don’t know that.”
“You saw her.”
“Photographs can be manipulated.”
Claire walked closer.
“You believe it.”
Adrian looked away.
Yes.
He did.
The little girl in the image had his eyes.
His sons’ face.
Elena’s smile.
Hope frightened him more than bullets.
“Where was the picture taken?” Claire asked.
“Pennsylvania.”
“Specific?”
“Near Jim Thorpe.”
“So what happens?”
“My men verify the property.”
“And if Elena is there?”
“I go.”
“Alone?”
“With security.”
Claire nodded.
“Good.”
“You’re coming to Vermont.”
“No.”
He stared.
“No?”
“The triplets know their mother might be alive. You think removing their father immediately is a brilliant idea?”
“They’ll have you.”
Claire almost laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The part where you assume I’m staying.”
Adrian went quiet.
Claire continued more softly.
“I care about them.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not their mother.”
“I know that too.”
“Do you?”
His jaw tightened.
Claire immediately regretted the cruelty in the question.
Adrian looked toward the hall.
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Claire stared.
He continued.
“I know how to keep them alive. I know how to secure a building, eliminate threats, plan contingencies.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I don’t know how to make Noah stop expecting everyone to disappear.”
Claire softened.
“I don’t know how to make Caleb talk when he’s afraid instead of turning everything into a joke. I don’t know why Miles apologizes whenever he cries.”
Claire’s chest tightened.
Adrian looked at her.
“But somehow after five days, they talk to you.”
“Because I’m not their father.”
“Exactly.”
“They need you differently.”
“I’m asking for help.”
Those words cost him something.
Claire could see it.
“Ask properly.”
He exhaled.
“Will you come with us?”
Claire smiled faintly.
“See? Growth.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
They left before dawn.
Adrian, Claire, Sophie, the triplets, Rosa, and six security men traveled in three SUVs.
The Vermont property turned out to be a lakeside house hidden among pine trees.
Smaller than the mansion.
Warmer.
Real.
No grand staircase.
No marble foyer.
No staff except Rosa.
The children loved it immediately.
For two days nothing happened.
They hiked.
Made pancakes.
Played board games.
Adrian spent hours on phone calls but remained physically present.
Claire watched him slowly become someone else.
Or perhaps become someone he had once been.
At dinner the second night, Caleb spilled milk.
He froze.
Claire noticed.
Adrian noticed too.
“It’s milk,” Adrian said.
Caleb stared.
“I’m sorry.”
“Get a towel.”
No shouting.
No punishment.
Caleb cleaned it.
Later Claire asked Adrian, “Why was he afraid?”
Adrian went still.
“My father.”
“What?”
“When they were younger, my father believed mistakes required consequences.”
Claire felt sick.
“How young?”
“Too young.”
“Did he hurt them?”
“Not while I was there.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Adrian looked toward the children.
“I should have noticed sooner.”
Claire touched his arm.
“You noticed eventually.”
He looked at her hand.
She withdrew it.
A strange silence followed.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His body went rigid.
“When?”
Claire watched.
“Send coordinates.”
He hung up.
“Elena?”
Adrian nodded.
“The cottage is real.”
Claire’s heart pounded.
“And?”
“She was there.”
“Was?”
“My men arrived forty minutes too late.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“The child?”
“Gone too.”
“Any sign where?”
Adrian held out his phone.
A note had been discovered inside.
Handwritten.
Claire read it.
Adrian, if you’re reading this, Victor failed. I have spent four years trying to get back to our sons without leading them to the people hunting me. Luca helped me disappear. He did not betray you. I did. Because I believed leaving was the only way to save them.
Claire’s eyes filled.
The note continued.
Our daughter’s name is Lucia. You never knew because I discovered I was pregnant after the fire. She asks about her brothers every night.
Adrian sat down.
Claire had never seen a powerful man look so completely shattered.
At the bottom:
Do not search for me. They are watching you. Protect Noah, Caleb, and Miles. Tell them I loved them every day I was gone.
Adrian whispered, “How can she ask me not to search?”
“She’s afraid.”
“I’m their father.”
“And she’s their mother.”
“She kept my daughter from me.”
“She survived alone for four years.”
Adrian stood.
“I’ll find her.”
Claire knew arguing was useless.
Then Noah appeared in the doorway.
“What’s Lucia?”
Adrian froze.
The note slipped slightly in his hand.
Noah looked at Claire.
“Who’s Lucia?”
Claire closed her eyes.
Adrian knelt.
“Come here.”
Noah didn’t move.
“Tell me.”
Adrian swallowed.
“You have a sister.”
Noah stared.
Then shouted, “WHAT?”
Caleb and Miles came running.
Within minutes the house exploded with questions.
How old?
What does she look like?
Does she know us?
Can she play soccer?
Why didn’t Mom bring her?
Why didn’t Dad know?
Claire watched Adrian answer every question.
Even the painful ones.
Especially the painful ones.
That night, the triplets slept together.
Sophie joined them.
Adrian sat outside their bedroom door.
Claire found him there at midnight.
“You okay?”
“No.”
She sat beside him.
For several minutes they said nothing.
Then Adrian whispered, “I missed four years of her life.”
Claire knew that grief.
The lost birthdays.
The ordinary mornings.
The memories that could never be reclaimed.
“My husband missed four years of Sophie’s.”
Adrian looked at her.
“I used to be angry at him.”
“For dying?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
Claire smiled sadly.
“Grief rarely does.”
Their shoulders touched.
Neither moved away.
Adrian looked at her.
Claire realized how close they were.
His voice softened.
“Claire…”
A security alarm shattered the moment.
Adrian stood instantly.
Red lights flashed.
A guard shouted from downstairs.
“Movement at the north tree line!”
Adrian drew his weapon.
Claire ran toward the children.
Then headlights appeared outside.
One vehicle.
Approaching slowly.
No security escort.
It stopped in front of the house.
The driver’s door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Brown hair.
Thin.
Terrified.
Adrian stopped breathing.
Claire knew immediately.
Elena.
Then the passenger door opened.
A little girl climbed out holding a stuffed rabbit.
She looked toward the windows.
And Adrian Moretti whispered the name of the daughter he had never met.
“Lucia.”
Elena took one step toward the house.
May you like
A rifle cracked from somewhere in the trees.
And she fell.
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