Chapter 2 - The Secret Inside The Medical File
The phone screen was still glowing in Emma’s hand.
"Lucas knows. Bring the boys before he learns the rest."
I read the message twice.
Then a third time.
My mind refused to accept what my eyes were seeing.
Someone was watching us.
Someone knew I was here.
Someone knew about the boys.
"Who sent that?" I asked.
Emma didn't answer.
She quickly locked her phone and placed it against her chest.
That reaction told me more than any explanation could.
She wasn't surprised.
She was afraid.
"Emma."
My voice sounded different.
Even to me.
The anger wasn't there.
Not yet.
Only confusion.
Five years of questions were suddenly standing in front of me wearing two little faces.
"Who sent that message?"
She looked at the twins.
The boys were still watching us.
They were old enough to understand something was wrong.
But too young to understand why.
Emma took a shaky breath.
"Not here."
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because those words were exactly what she used to say when she was hiding something.
Not here.
Not now.
Later.
Always later.
But later had already stolen five years from me.
"I spent five years thinking I wasn't going to be a father," I said quietly.
Emma looked away.
"I know."
"No."
My voice became firmer.
"You don't know."
The hallway became silent.
"You knew something I didn't."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I was trying to protect you."
I stared at her.
"From what?"
She didn't answer.
That was the answer.
Whatever she was hiding was bigger than a divorce.
Bigger than a fertility problem.
Bigger than two children appearing out of nowhere.
A nurse walked past us, forcing all of us to lower our voices.
Emma looked toward a private waiting room at the end of the hallway.
"Come with me."
I didn't move.
"Why should I trust you?"
The question hurt her.
I saw it.
But I needed her to feel even a fraction of what I had felt for five years.
She nodded slowly.
"You shouldn't."
That surprised me.
She wasn't defending herself.
She wasn't making excuses.
She was admitting it.
"I made mistakes," she whispered.
Then she looked at the twins.
"But everything I did was because I thought I had no other choice."
The boys walked closer to her.
One of them held her hand.
The other looked at me.
The same way a child looks at someone they recognize but don't know.
That was the part that broke me.
They weren't strangers.
Somewhere deep inside, they already felt familiar.
We entered the private waiting room.
Emma closed the door.
The twins sat together on the couch.
I remained standing.
I couldn't sit.
Sitting felt too normal.
Nothing about this was normal.
Emma placed the medical folder on the table.
The same folder I had tried to take earlier.
"This is where it started," she said.
I opened it.
Inside were years of medical records.
Appointments.
Tests.
Reports.
My hands became colder as I flipped through the pages.
Then I saw my name.
Lucas Carter.
Patient information.
I stopped breathing.
"What is this?"
Emma looked down.
"The fertility clinic."
I looked at her.
"I was never the problem?"
She didn't respond immediately.
That silence was enough.
I kept reading.
The words blurred.
Then I saw something that made my entire body freeze.
A DNA test.
Not recent.
Not from today.
From years ago.
Before our divorce.
"Emma."
My voice cracked.
"When was this done?"
She sat down slowly.
"Six weeks before we separated."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
She wiped away a tear.
"Because I found out I was pregnant."
The room disappeared.
I heard nothing.
Not the hospital sounds.
Not the voices outside.
Not even my own breathing.
"You were pregnant?"
She nodded.
"With twins."
I looked at the boys.
The boys looked back.
Five years.
Five years of birthdays I missed.
First words I never heard.
First steps I never saw.
First days of school I never witnessed.
Five years of being a father without knowing I was one.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Emma closed her eyes.
"I tried."
That sentence stopped me.
"What?"
"I tried to tell you."
She looked at the floor.
"But someone stopped me."
My expression changed.
"Who?"
Emma didn't answer.
Instead, she opened another document.
"This was delivered to me three days after I found out."
I took the paper.
It was a legal agreement.
A confidentiality agreement.
My eyes moved through the page.
Then I saw a signature.
A name.
A name I knew.
My stomach tightened.
Because it belonged to someone who had no reason to be involved.
My father.
Richard Carter.
I looked at Emma.
"My father?"
She nodded.
"He came to see me."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
"What did he want?"
Emma's hands shook.
"He told me you couldn't know about the babies."
I stared at her.
"Why would my father do that?"
She swallowed.
"Because he believed your life would be destroyed if you became a father."
That didn't make sense.
My father had always talked about family.
Legacy.
The Carter name.
He was the man who taught me that family was everything.
"That's impossible."
Emma reached for another document.
"No."
Her voice became quiet.
"What's impossible is what he did next."
I looked down.
It was another report.
This time from the fertility clinic.
There was a handwritten note attached.
Only five words.
"Do not let Lucas know."
My hands started shaking.
Someone had spent years controlling my life.
Someone had taken my children away from me.
And I didn't even know there was a fight happening.
"Where is my father now?"
Emma looked at me.
"He disappeared two years ago."
I frowned.
"What?"
"After I refused to sign the final agreement."
I stared at her.
"Final agreement?"
Emma didn't move.
"Lucas..."
Her voice changed.
She sounded scared again.
"There is something else."
The twins suddenly looked toward the door.
The younger one whispered:
"Mommy."
Emma turned.
"What?"
The boy pointed.
"That man."
We all looked.
A shadow moved behind the glass window.
Someone was standing outside.
Watching us.
Emma immediately stood up.
Her face lost all color.
I stepped closer to the door.
"Who is that?"
She grabbed my arm.
"Don't open it."
I looked at her hand.
Then at her terrified eyes.
"Emma."
The person outside slowly raised his hand.
And knocked.
Three times.
Emma stepped backward.
Because she recognized the way he knocked.
Her lips moved.
But no sound came out.
May you like
Then she whispered the name of the person I never expected to hear again.
"Richard..."
