Chapter 4 - The Fourth Floor
The Saint Jude Children’s Annex was an imposing, state-of-the-art medical building nestled on the outskirts of Nashville. Glass walls, marble floors, and security guards at every entrance gave it the appearance of a high-tech fortress rather than a place of healing.
I arrived at 1:00 PM, wearing a dark suit and sunglasses.
Instead of walking through the main lobby where Tessa’s board meeting was taking place, I used a private keycard I had obtained through a contact in facility management—a company that held a major logistics contract with my firm.
I slipped through the basement service entrance, avoiding the security cameras, and took the service elevator straight to the fourth floor.
The fourth floor was silent. Unlike the bustling pediatric wards downstairs, this corridor had no bright paintings, no toys, and no parents sitting in waiting rooms. The walls were stark white, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lighting.
At the end of the hallway stood a double-paned glass room with blacked-out privacy blinds.
As I approached cautiously, hiding behind a structural pillar, I heard voices coming from inside the room.
The door was slightly ajar.
"He's making good progress, Miss Whitmore," a doctor’s professional voice spoke. "His respiratory development has caught up to normal standards. Physically, he is completely healthy now."
"Good," Tessa’s voice replied—cold, detached, and businesslike. "Is the adoption paperwork ready?"
"Yes, ma'am," the doctor answered. "The international agency in Zurich has processed the private adoption transfer. Once you sign the final release forms after your wedding, the child will be flown out of the country to his adoptive family in Switzerland. There will be no digital trace back to this clinic or your family name."
"Perfect," Tessa said calmly. "Rowan must never know this boy exists. If he ever found out Maren carried triplets, he would do a DNA test immediately. That boy’s existence is the only piece of evidence that could link Maren back to him."
My fists clenched so tightly in my pockets that my fingernails bit into my palms, nearly drawing blood.
They were going to ship my son across the world like an unwanted piece of cargo.
"And the mother?" The doctor asked. "She still believes the baby died at birth?"
"Maren is living in a shack in the woods, gathering aluminum cans to buy baby food," Tessa sneered softly. "She believes what she was told. She has no money, no lawyers, and no voice. She is nothing."
I couldn't take it anymore.
The rage inside me boiled over. I stepped out from behind the pillar, pushing the door open with enough force that it slammed violently against the wall.
BAM!
Tessa spun around, her eyes widening in absolute terror. The color drained completely from her face.
"Rowan!" She gasped, dropping her leather portfolio onto the floor. "What... what are you doing here?!"
standing beside her was a tall, middle-aged doctor who looked equally horrified.
And behind them, sitting in a small, clear medical bassinet, was a tiny baby boy.
He had pale skin, wide, bright blue eyes, and a soft tuft of fair curls on top of his head.
He looked exactly like his brother and sister sitting in Maren’s tiny farmhouse.
I stared at the child, my heart breaking into a million pieces. "My son," I whispered.
"Rowan, listen to me—" Tessa panicked, stepping between me and the bassinet, her polished persona shattering into desperate fragments. "It's not what you think! This isn't—"
"Shut up!" I roared, stepping forward. "Shut your mouth, Tessa!"
"Call security!" Tessa screamed at the doctor. "Call security right now!"
"Touch that phone," I said, pointing a icy finger at the doctor, "and I will personally guarantee that you spend the next thirty years of your life in a federal penitentiary for human trafficking and falsifying medical records."
The doctor’s hand froze over the intercom button. He looked at Tessa, then at me, and slowly backed away toward the corner of the room, raising his hands in surrender.
I walked past Tessa as if she didn't exist. I reached down into the bassinet and gently lifted the tiny boy into my arms.
He was light, warm, and smelled of baby powder. As I pulled him against my chest, he nestled his face against my suit jacket, his tiny hand gripping my thumb.
Tears spilled over my eyes, falling onto his soft hair.
"You took my family," I whispered, looking up at Tessa with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred. "You destroyed my wife. You stole my children. And you thought you could get away with it."
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Tessa’s expression shifted from panic to venomous fury. "You think you can just walk out of here with him? Look around you, Rowan! I control this board! I control the local police! My father owns half the judges in this state! You bring Maren back into your life, and I will destroy your company before the week is over!"
"Try it," I whispered, holding my son firmly against my chest. "Because as of this second, Tessa... you are nothing to me."
