Chapter 8 – Twins Torn Apart by a Billion-Dollar Lie
Silence filled the private bank.
Richard felt sick.
"What do you mean... two babies?"
The investigator placed several yellowed hospital records on the table.
"Thirty-seven years ago, Saint Gabriel Hospital reported the disappearance of newborn twin boys."
Richard stared at the paperwork.
Twin A – Missing.
Twin B – Missing.
No names.
No parents listed.
The case had remained unsolved for decades.
Eleanor whispered,
"My husband never told me this."
The investigator slowly looked at Richard.
"The bracelet belongs to Twin A."
Richard swallowed.
"So..."
"...where is Twin B?"
Nobody answered.
Until the VHS cassette suddenly caught Amelia's attention.
"Play it."
An old television flickered to life.
The image was grainy.
Richard Sterling Sr. appeared on screen.
He looked much older than anyone remembered.
His eyes were red from crying.
"If this video is playing..."
"...then Harold has already betrayed my family."
He paused.
"And Richard..."
"If you're watching..."
"I'm sorry."
"I lied to protect you."
He reached beside him and held up an old photograph.
It showed two newborn babies wrapped in identical blue blankets.
One wore the silver bracelet.
The other wore a gold bracelet.
"They were brothers."
"My investigator found their birth mother."
"She begged me to keep one child alive."
"I failed to save them both."
Richard frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The founder continued,
"Harold arrived before I could."
"He took the second baby."
Everyone in the room froze.
Amelia covered her mouth.
Richard could barely breathe.
The founder's final words echoed through the speakers.
"If Harold is still alive..."
"...ask him one question."
'Where is my other son?'
The video ended.
No one moved.
Back in New York, Harold Bishop sat handcuffed in an interrogation room.
The detective entered quietly.
Without saying a word, he placed the old photograph on the table.
Harold's confident smile vanished.
The detective leaned forward.
"Richard Sterling wants to know..."
"...where his twin brother is."
Harold slowly closed his eyes.
Then...
For the very first time in thirty-one years...
He whispered a single name.
"Lucas."
The detective frowned.
"Who is Lucas?"
Harold looked directly into the camera monitoring the interrogation room.
A chilling smile spread across his face.
"You've been interviewing him..."
May you like
"...for the last six months."
To be continued...
