PART 8

Emily appeared on the screen.

She was sitting inside what looked like a hotel room.

Her hair was messy.

There was a bruise near her left eye.

But her voice was calm.

“Sarah, I need you to listen to everything before you make any decisions.”

She looked down for several seconds.

Then she said:

“Mark is not Noah’s biological father.”

Tyler looked at me.

I felt Noah’s small hand slip into mine.

Emily continued.

“I didn’t tell anyone because Mark found out when Noah was four. He became obsessed with discovering who Noah’s biological father was.”

The video paused for a moment.

Then continued.

“The truth is… Noah’s father was a man named Daniel Reynolds.”

I froze.

The name from the photograph.

The federal investigator.

Mr. Foster’s face changed.

I turned toward him.

“You knew.”

He didn’t answer.

Emily’s voice continued.

“Daniel worked with me on a financial investigation involving a company called Westbridge Holdings. We discovered that millions of dollars were being moved through fake charities and shell corporations.”

She swallowed.

“Daniel was going to testify.”

The screen showed another photograph.

Daniel Reynolds.

The same man I’d seen beside Emily.

“Before he could testify, his car was forced off the road.”

The image changed.

A newspaper article.

FEDERAL INVESTIGATOR KILLED IN HIGHWAY CRASH.

I looked at Noah.

He was staring at the screen.

“That was my daddy?”

Emily answered as if she could hear him.

“Yes, Noah. Daniel was your biological father.”

The room became silent.

Then Emily said something that made my stomach turn.

“But his death wasn’t an accident.”

I looked at Mr. Foster.

He lowered his head.

Emily continued.

“I found proof that someone inside the investigation helped arrange the crash.”

The video changed.

A list of names appeared.

Most were blurred.

One name wasn’t.

MARK HARRIS.

I stopped breathing.

Mark.

My brother-in-law.

Noah’s supposed father.

Emily’s husband.

The man currently searching my house.

“He wasn’t the person who ordered it,” Emily said.

“But he helped them.”

I looked at Mr. Foster.

“Why?”

He finally spoke.

“Because Mark was already working for them.”

My heart pounded.

“Then why is he pretending to be Noah’s father?”

“Because Daniel left something behind.”

“What?”

“Evidence.”

I looked down at the memory card.

Emily’s voice continued.

“Daniel discovered that the organization wasn’t only stealing money.”

She paused.

“They were using children.”

My blood went cold.

“For what?”

Emily looked directly into the camera.

“Identity transfers.”

I didn’t understand.

She explained.

“They would take the identities of children who had died, disappeared, or whose records could be manipulated. They created new identities for people who needed to disappear.”

She looked frightened.

“Daniel discovered they planned to use Noah’s identity.”

I pulled Noah closer.

Emily continued.

“Because Noah’s birth records were connected to Daniel, they could use him to access information Daniel had protected.”

The screen changed.

A file appeared.

DANIEL REYNOLDS — CLASSIFIED

Then another.

NOAH REYNOLDS — MINOR

My hands started shaking.

“They wanted Noah,” Emily said.

“Not because he was a child.”

“Because he was Daniel’s son.”

The video suddenly became distorted.

Emily looked toward the door.

Someone was outside.

She whispered:

“They found me.”

She moved closer to the camera.

“Sarah, there is one thing you must understand.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Mark isn’t trying to kill Noah.”

I frowned.

“He’s trying to get the evidence Noah has.”

She took a breath.

“And he believes the evidence is inside the blue envelope.”

I looked at the envelope.

It was empty now except for the brass key and memory card.

Then Emily said:

“But the evidence isn’t in the envelope.”

I looked at Noah.

“Where is it?”

Emily smiled sadly.

“Noah has carried it with him the entire time.”

The video ended.

The room was silent.

I looked at my nephew.

“What did your mother give you?”

Noah looked confused.

“I don’t know.”

I searched through his backpack.

Clothes.

A toy dinosaur.

Two books.

A coloring set.

A small stuffed bear.

Then I noticed the bear.

It was old.

The fur was worn.

One eye was slightly loose.

“Where did you get this?”

“Mommy gave it to me.”

I opened the zipper on its back.

Inside was a tiny plastic container.

I pulled it out.

Mr. Foster stared at it.

“That’s it.”

“What?”

“The evidence.”

Inside was a tiny data chip.

I looked at him.

“How much trouble is on something this small?”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART….