Chapter 11 - What Happened During My Missing Hours
Mom looked at Cassian.
Then Ezra.
"Neither."
Her voice was weak but clear.
"The second baby was neither of you."
Vittorio's smile vanished.
Mom pointed at him.
"He never knew."
Cassian crouched beside her.
"Maryanne. Who was the second child?"
Mom looked at me.
"Take me home."
Then the clarity disappeared.
Her eyes became confused again.
I nearly cried.
Not because she'd forgotten.
Because for thirty seconds I'd had my mother back.
Vittorio was taken into federal custody under enough clean charges to hold him.
Kidnapping.
Weapons.
Extortion.
The deeper crimes would come later.
But we still needed the truth.
Celeste was found alive.
And she finally gave us the complete recording from the night Cassian and I lost our memories.
I didn't want to watch it.
Cassian didn't either.
We did.
The footage showed me treating him.
Then drinking drugged water.
I became unsteady.
A medical team entered.
They drew blood from Cassian.
They attempted a procedure.
Celeste interrupted.
There was shouting.
The team fled.
Celeste placed me in a guest room.
Cassian remained downstairs.
Two hours later, I woke.
Disoriented.
I stumbled back to him.
Cassian woke too.
The video had no audio.
But I watched myself cry.
Cassian reached for me.
I sat beside him.
Then leaned into him.
Celeste entered.
Saw us conscious.
Left.
The camera ended.
No proof of what followed.
No proof we had been fully capable of consent either.
It wasn't a romantic memory.
It was something stolen from us.
Cassian turned the screen off.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For every part of your life that touched mine."
I looked at him.
"My father's death wasn't your intention."
"My order caused the pursuit."
"Yes."
"I can never undo that."
"No."
He swallowed.
"I'll release you from the marriage."
That hurt unexpectedly.
"You think that's what I want?"
"I think you deserve a choice."
There it was.
The one thing nobody had given either of us.
Choice.
I removed the wedding ring I'd kept hidden in my purse.
Then put it back on.
Cassian stared.
"This isn't forgiveness," I said.
"I know."
"And it isn't a promise."
"I know."
"It's my decision."
He nodded.
That mattered.
Camille arranged a second prenatal DNA test.
This time, I controlled every step.
Two independent laboratories.
Direct observation.
Cassian's sample taken in front of me.
Mine too.
No Raldi employee touched anything.
Results would take days.
Meanwhile, Mom's lucid words haunted me.
Neither.
I searched her old Bellwether records.
One employee file was missing.
Then I found a payroll entry.
Thirty-two years earlier, Maryanne had taken eight weeks of maternity leave.
But I was twenty-eight.
Four years didn't fit.
"Mom had another baby."
Cassian looked at me.
"Before you?"
"Apparently."
No child appeared in family records.
Dad had never mentioned one.
Then I found an old photograph.
Mom.
Dad.
A newborn.
On the back:
We couldn't keep him, but we kept him safe.
My hands trembled.
The second Raldi baby hadn't remained a Raldi.
My parents had hidden him.
Not raised him.
Hidden him somewhere else.
Then my phone rang.
The second DNA laboratory.
I answered.
"This is Elena."
The technician sounded nervous.
"Mrs. Raldi, we have your result."
I gripped Cassian's hand.
"Tell me."
"The paternity probability is greater than 99.99 percent."
I closed my eyes.
Cassian was the father.
But the technician wasn't finished.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"We ran the comparison you requested against the archived Bellwether profile."
I stood.
"And?"
"The unidentified second infant has a first-degree familial match in your submitted samples."
"Which sample?"
A pause.
May you like
Then the technician told me.
And the name made the room go silent.
