Chapter 6 - The Mysterious Visitor in the LobbyMy heart skipped a beat. Court orders? Family? I thought Victor was their only living relative.
"Who is it?" Detective Miller asked sharply, his cop instincts instantly kicking in. "Did Victor have an accomplice?"
"No, Detective," Sarah Jenkins said, opening her manila folder and pulling out a crisp, official document with a gold-embossed seal. "Not an accomplice. In fact, it's quite the opposite. According to this paperwork, filed through an emergency probate court less than an hour ago, there is a blood relative who was completely hidden from Victor and the social services system."
Leo sat up slightly, wincing as his bandaged back brushed the pillows. "Hidden? Who?"
"Your maternal aunt," Sarah said, her eyes softening. "Your mother's younger sister, Clara Vance—wait, no, Clara Sterling. She lived overseas for the last ten years working as a humanitarian doctor in disaster zones. She had a falling out with your parents a decade ago, which is why your uncle Victor managed to slip into the guardianship role unchallenged after the accident. But the moment news of the crash hit international media networks, your aunt dropped everything, caught the first flight back to the country, and fought her way through family court."
"My... my Aunt Clara?" Leo whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I... I thought she wasn't real. Mom used to have a picture of a girl with red hair in her jewelry box, but she always cried when she looked at it."
"That's her," Sarah smiled warmly. "And she is downstairs right now, demanding to see her niece and nephew."
Detective Miller looked at Sarah, then at me. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's bring her up."
Five minutes later, the door to Room 312 swung open.
A woman in her mid-thirties stepped inside. She had striking green eyes, auburn hair tied back in a messy bun, and a travel-worn trench coat that looked like it had survived a war zone. When her gaze landed on Leo sitting against the pillows, and then drifted over to Maya sleeping peacefully in the bassinet, her composure completely shattered.
She let out a ragged, broken sob, slapped both hands over her mouth, and rushed across the room.
"Leo..." she breathed, collapsing on her knees beside his hospital bed. "Oh, sweet boy... look at you."
Leo stared at her, dumbfounded, until she gently reached out and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. The resemblance was undeniable.
"Aunt... Aunt Clara?" Leo choked out, the last of his iron-clad emotional wall finally crumbling.
She gathered him into her arms as best she could without hurting his burned back, weeping openly into his shoulder. "I'm here. I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner. I didn't know... I swear to God, I had no idea what Victor was doing. But you're safe now. Both of you. Nobody will ever touch you again."
I stood quietly in the corner of the room, watching the emotional reunion unfold. My chest ached with a profound sense of relief. The nightmare was over. The children were safe, reunited with someone who actually loved them.
Or so I thought.
Because as Aunt Clara pulled back from the hug and looked around the room, her eyes caught sight of the gas station receipt and the police notepad resting on the bedside table. Her expression didn't just change—it went completely, chillingly blank.
May you like
And then, she whispered something under her breath that made my blood run instantly cold.
“He didn't finish the job.”
