Chapter 9: The Night Someone Tried to Take Rosie
We didn't return to Rowan Ridge immediately.
Victor took us to a secure hotel on the outskirts of Sacramento while Tyler coordinated with local police. The hotel had private underground parking, cameras at every entrance, and a security team Victor trusted personally.
Grace refused to let anyone take the letter from her.
She read it three times before midnight, stopping at the same sentence each time.
Your sister is alive. Her name is Maya.
When she finally looked up, her eyes were swollen.
“She knew,” Grace whispered.
“She found out later,” I said.
“Patricia told us she didn't learn you were alive until years after the adoption.””
Grace shook her head.
“Then why didn't she come for me?””
“Because she was afraid they'd hurt us.””
“Who?””
I glanced toward Victor.
He stood near the window, speaking quietly with Tyler.
“Arthur Rowan,” I said.
“And possibly Vanessa.””
Grace's expression hardened.
“Vanessa Rowan.””
“You know her?””
Grace nodded slowly.
“I've never met her, but I recognize her name. My adoptive father had a file marked with it. He told me never to open it.””
“What was inside?””
“Documents about the trust. And a photograph of a woman standing outside a hospital.””
I leaned forward.
“Was it Vanessa?””
“I don't know. The photograph was damaged.””
She rubbed her forehead.
“When my parents died, I found a letter explaining that they hadn't adopted me through a normal agency. They'd received me from a lawyer who said my biological family was wealthy but dangerous. My parents were told that if they ever contacted the Rowans, they'd lose me.””
“Did you believe them?””
“I had no reason not to. They raised me. They loved me. They also lied to me for twenty years.””
Her voice broke.
“I don't know which parts of my life are real anymore.””
I understood that feeling too well.
Rosie slept in a travel crib beside the bed. I watched her little chest rise and fall, thinking about the family she'd inherit if we survived long enough to tell her the truth.
“Do you have children?”” Grace asked suddenly.
I looked at her.
“Rosie. She's my little sister.””
Grace's face softened.
“She looks like you.””
“Everyone says that.””
I smiled faintly.
“Mom used to say Rosie had my stubbornness and her father's temper.””
Grace looked down.
“Did she ever talk about our father?””
“Not really. She kept his photograph in a blue envelope. I didn't understand who he was until we found the pictures at Rowan Ridge.””
Grace nodded.
“Then we're in the same place. I grew up knowing I was adopted, but my parents refused to tell me anything about my birth family.””
She glanced toward Victor.
“Is he really our father?””
Victor turned at the question.
He walked toward us slowly, his face drawn.
“Yes,” he said.
“I believe I am. But I will not ask you to accept that without proof.””
Grace stared at him.
“You knew about Maya.””
“I didn't know she existed until she arrived at my gate.””
“And me?””
“No.””
“Did you look for us?””
Victor's mouth tightened.
“I looked for your mother. I was told my daughter had died. I never knew there were two babies.””
Grace let out a shaky laugh.
“So your father lied to you, my adoptive parents lied to me, and everyone expected us to live happily ever after.””
“No,” Victor said quietly.
“They expected us never to find out.””
Grace looked away.
I wanted to reassure her, but I didn't know how. None of us had enough truth to build anything solid.
Tyler entered the room.
“Mr. Rowan, the police have examined the house. They found shell casings from a handgun and tire marks consistent with a motorcycle leaving the alley.””
“Any cameras?””
“There's a traffic camera two blocks away. They are reviewing the footage.””
Victor nodded.
“Anything else?””
Tyler hesitated.
“The shooter may have known the occupants would be there. The attack happened less than five minutes after we entered.””
Grace stood abruptly.
“They knew I was there.””
Victor looked at her.
“Possibly.””
She paced to the window, then back toward us.
“I changed my address three times this year. I don't post online. I don't have friends who know everything about me. How could anyone know where I was going to be?””
“Someone has been tracking the documents connected to your adoption,” Victor said.
“They may have been tracking you for years.””
Grace stopped.
“Then I want to know why.””
“So do I.””
Victor took a folder from Tyler and placed it on the table.
“There's a second issue. The trust documents mention a clause regarding multiple eligible heirs. If both of you are confirmed as Eleanor's biological children, neither of you can be excluded from consideration without a formal legal challenge.””
Grace stared at the papers.
“Does that mean we inherit together?””
“It may. We need a lawyer to interpret the original agreement.””
“And if Vanessa has been trying to prevent that?””
“She has motive to keep either of you from being verified.””
Grace's voice hardened.
“Then we verify both of us.””
I looked at her.
“You're sure?””
She met my gaze.
“I've spent twenty years wondering why I wasn't wanted. If Mom wrote that she searched for me, I want the world to know it.””
Something inside me eased.
For the first time, we weren't two strangers sharing a photograph. We were sisters making a decision together.
Then a knock sounded at the door.
Tyler looked at the peephole and frowned.
“It's hotel security.””
He opened the door just enough to speak to the man outside.
They exchanged a few words.
Then Tyler closed the door and turned toward Victor.
“There's a delivery for Maya.””
My stomach tightened.
“What kind of delivery?””
Tyler held up a small white envelope.
“No return address. The courier says it was left at the front desk twenty minutes ago.””
Victor didn't touch it.
“Don't open it yet.””
He called the hotel security supervisor. A technician arrived within minutes and examined the envelope for anything unusual before passing it to Victor.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Rosie asleep in her crib.
The image had been taken in the hotel room.
I stared at it, unable to move.
Beneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
*One daughter was enough trouble. Don't make us take the other.*
My blood turned to ice.
“Rosie.””
I rushed toward the crib.
She was still asleep, her tiny fingers curled beside her face.
I lifted her into my arms.
Victor took the photograph from me, his face turning hard with fury.
“When was this taken?””
Tyler examined the image.
“The blanket is the same one she's using now. It could have been taken within the last hour.””
Grace moved close to us.
“They were inside the room?””
“No,” Tyler said.
“The door log shows no unauthorized entry.””
“Then how did they take the picture?””
He looked toward the ceiling.
“Possibly through the adjoining room, or from a concealed camera. We'll search both.””
Victor turned to the security supervisor.
“I want every room on this floor cleared. We need new accommodations and a full sweep before anyone moves.””
I pressed Rosie against my chest.
My hands shook so violently that she began to stir.
“It's all right,” I whispered.
“Mom's here.””
But I didn't feel like her mother. I felt like a girl who'd arrived at a gate asking for a job and accidentally walked into a war.
Grace put her hand on my shoulder.
“We're not letting them take her.””
I looked at her.
“You don't even know her.””
She gave me a sad smile.
“She is my niece.””
Those words nearly broke me.
A niece.
A sister.
A father.
I had lost my mother and gained an entire family in less than a day, and every new connection seemed to bring another threat.
Victor turned toward us.
“No one is leaving this hotel without an escort. We'll move to Rowan Ridge under protection, and the police will continue investigating the shooting.””
I looked at the photograph.
“Why don't they just come after us directly?””
“Because they want us frightened enough to surrender the documents,” he said.
“Or they want to create a situation in which something happens to you and the trust becomes easier to contest.””
Grace folded her arms.
“Then we shouldn't surrender anything.””
Victor nodded.
“We won't.””
A phone rang.
It was Tyler's.
He stepped into the corridor to answer, then returned with his face tight.
“Mr. Rowan, the police found the motorcycle.””
“Where?””
“Abandoned behind an industrial building. No rider. No fingerprints that they can identify yet.””
“Any other evidence?””
Tyler nodded reluctantly.
“A witness saw a black sedan following the motorcycle before the shooting. The sedan was registered to a company owned by Rowan Industries.””
Victor went completely still.
“Which company?””
Tyler gave him the name.
It was the same holding company connected to the Whitmores.
For several seconds, Victor said nothing.
Then he took out his phone and made a call.
“Get me the full ownership history of that company. Every director, every shareholder, every payment made in the last ten years. I don't care how far back you have to go.””
He ended the call.
Grace stared at him.
“You think my adoptive parents were involved?””
“I don't know yet.””
“My parents loved me.””
“It's possible they did,” Victor said.
“It's also possible someone used them to carry out a plan they didn't fully understand.””
Grace shook her head.
“I can't believe that.””
“Then don't believe it until we have proof.””
I sat beside the crib, trying to calm Rosie.
The photograph lay on the table. I couldn't stop looking at the note.
Don't make us take the other.
Other.
Not you.
Not your sister.
The other.
The person who'd written it knew exactly how many children were connected to the original plan.
And they were no longer interested in only the trust.
They wanted us to understand that Rosie could be reached, too.
Near midnight, as the hotel staff prepared a secure room for us, my phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
A text appeared.
*You need to stop trusting Victor Rowan. Ask him what happened to Eleanor's first medical file. Ask him why he never questioned the death certificate.*
I stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
*Your father didn't just lose you. He signed the order that separated you from your sister.*
I looked up at Victor.
He was talking to Tyler beside the door, exhausted and furious, a man struggling to understand how his family had become something he no longer recognized.
But the message had planted a seed of doubt.
What if he had known more than he admitted?
What if the documents at Rowan Ridge revealed that Victor had once signed something that made my life possible only by making Grace's disappear?
I walked toward him.
“Victor.””
He turned.
“What's wrong?””
I held out the phone.
He read both messages.
His face changed.
“I didn't sign any order to separate you from your sister.””
“Then why would someone say that?””
“Because they want you to doubt me.””
“Did you ever sign a medical consent form? An adoption paper? Anything involving a child born at the clinic?””
Victor stared at the messages for a long time.
Finally, he said, “I signed documents my father told me were routine. I believed they concerned Eleanor's medical care.””
My heart sank.
“What documents?””
“I don't remember.””
“You don't remember?””
“I was grieving. My father told me the baby had died. He said the paperwork was necessary to release Eleanor from the clinic and arrange her return home.””
“You signed something without reading it?””
His silence answered me.
I felt sick.
“You keep telling me you didn't know, but you admit you signed documents about the baby.””
“I know how that sounds.””
“It sounds like everyone gets to make mistakes, and I'm the one who has to live with them.””
Victor lowered his head.
“You're right.””
I stepped away.
“Don't ask me to trust you just because you regret what happened.””
“I won't.””
“Prove it.””
He nodded slowly.
“I will.””
For the first time, I saw something in his face that frightened me more than his anger.
He wasn't afraid of losing the inheritance.
He was afraid that the truth would show he'd helped create the very nightmare he'd spent twenty years trying to forget.
Grace approached us, holding Mom's letter.
“We should return to Rowan Ridge,” she said.
“If the original records are there, we need them before Vanessa gets to them.””
Victor nodded.
“Agreed.””
As we prepared to leave, another message appeared on my phone.
This one contained no words.
Only a photograph of a document.
At the top was Victor's signature.
Beneath it was a line of typed text.
*Authorization for the temporary transfer of custody of two female infants, effective June 18, 2007.*
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
Victor looked over my shoulder.
His face drained of color.
Because the signature was unmistakably his.
May you like
And beneath the order, beside the name of the person authorized to remove the babies from the clinic, was a name none of us had expected to see.
*Vanessa Rowan.*
