CHAPTER 4 — THE BOY WHO WAS NEVER MEANT TO REMEMBER
Emily felt as if the walls were closing around her.
She looked from the file...
...to Quincy...
...then back again.
Sarah Collins.
Transferred.
Not deceased.
Exactly the same word written beside Faith's record.
Exactly the same hospital.
Exactly the same doctor.
Dr. Leonard Pierce.
The same signature appeared on both files.
Emily whispered,
"Dear God..."
Quincy wasn't just her stepson.
He was the first survivor.
"Emily?"
Quincy looked confused.
"Did I do something wrong?"
She rushed forward and hugged him tightly.
"No."
"You may have just saved your sister."
The words hung in the air.
"Sister?"
Emily hesitated.
"I don't know everything yet."
"But I know one thing."
"Your father lied."
Before Quincy could respond, a loud crash echoed through the warehouse.
Someone had kicked in the rear entrance.
Flashlights swept across the darkness.
Voices shouted.
"Search every room!"
"They can't have gone far!"
Emily pulled Quincy behind a stack of rusted hospital beds.
The footsteps came closer.
One of the men laughed.
"Poor woman."
"She actually believes the baby is alive."
Another answered,
"It won't matter after tonight."
Emily covered Quincy's mouth to stop him from gasping.
The beam of a flashlight stopped inches from their hiding place.
Then...
A voice interrupted.
"You're looking in the wrong building."
Everyone turned.
Standing in the doorway was an elderly janitor pushing a mop bucket.
Gray beard.
Bent back.
Worn-out boots.
One guard barked,
"Who are you?"
The old man shrugged.
"Just cleaning."
"I saw a woman run toward the parking garage."
The guards cursed and rushed back outside.
The warehouse fell silent.
The old janitor waited until their footsteps disappeared.
Then he looked directly at Emily.
"I've been waiting eighteen years for someone brave enough to survive childbirth in this hospital."
Emily stepped out slowly.
"You know who I am?"
He smiled sadly.
"I knew your mother."
Emily froze.
"My... mother?"
"She asked the same questions you are asking now."
The janitor reached into his coat and removed a tarnished silver key attached to a faded pink ribbon.
"I promised her that if another mother ever escaped..."
"...I'd give this to her."
Emily stared at the key.
"What does it open?"
The old man looked toward the hospital across the street.
"The nursery that officially doesn't exist."
He leaned closer.
"There are children hidden there."
"Not just your daughter."
"Dozens."
Emily's heart pounded.
"Dozens?"
The old man's eyes filled with tears.
"I worked in this hospital for forty-three years."
"I've watched them steal babies."
"I've watched them sell babies."
"I've watched mothers leave believing their children were dead."
He paused.
"But your daughter..."
His voice became almost a whisper.
"They didn't plan to sell her."
Emily felt a chill race down her spine.
"Then why keep her alive?"
The old janitor's expression darkened.
"Because Faith wasn't chosen by a buyer."
"She was chosen by the Carter family."
Emily frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The janitor slowly answered,
"They've been searching for one particular bloodline for nearly seventy years."
He looked at Quincy.
Then back at Emily.
"And your daughter is the first baby born into that bloodline in three generations."
Before Emily could ask another question...
A gunshot shattered the silence.
The old janitor jerked backward.
Blood spread across his chest.
He collapsed into Emily's arms.
Standing in the warehouse entrance, lowering a silenced pistol, was Daniel.
His face was pale.
His eyes were hollow.
Behind him stood Margaret...
still holding her Bible.
Daniel's voice broke as he whispered,
May you like
"I'm sorry, Emily..."
"...but you were never supposed to know the truth."
