Chapter 2: The Name Hidden In The Blood
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The machines beside my bed continued their steady rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
But inside my chest, everything had stopped.
I stared at Dr. Robert Wright, waiting for him to explain.
Waiting for him to laugh.
Waiting for him to tell me there had been some impossible mistake.
Because there was no way this man—the famous doctor standing in front of me with tears in his eyes—could possibly be connected to the tiny baby I had just given birth to.
“My grandson?”” I repeated.
The words sounded strange coming out of my mouth.
Dr. Wright looked down.
“Yes.””
My fingers tightened around the blanket.
“No.””
The doctor flinched slightly.
“No?””
I shook my head.
“No. That’s not possible.””
The nurse looked between us, confused.
“Dr. Wright, maybe we should let Joanna rest—”
But he didn’t move.
He looked like a man who had spent years running from a memory and suddenly found it standing in front of him.
“Joanna,” he said quietly, “what is the baby’s father’s name?””
My stomach twisted.
I knew the answer.
I had said it a thousand times.
“Logan.””
The doctor closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
But that second told me everything.
“You know him,” I whispered.
His silence was louder than any confession.
I looked down at Ethan, who was sleeping peacefully against my chest.
My son.
My perfect little boy.
Suddenly, the happiness I had felt moments earlier was tangled with fear.
“What do you mean he’s your grandson?””
Dr. Wright pulled a chair closer but didn’t sit.
His hands were shaking.
That scared me more than anything.
A man like him wasn’t supposed to shake.
“I have a son,” he said.
I swallowed.
“Logan.””
He nodded.
The room felt smaller.
The walls felt closer.
I remembered Logan’s face the night he left.
The way he refused to explain.
The way he said he needed time.
I remembered every unanswered question.
And now, standing in front of me, was an answer I never expected.
“You’re his father?””
“Yes.””
I looked at his face carefully.
There were similarities.
I had never noticed them before because I had never seen Dr. Wright before.
But now I saw them.
The shape of the eyes.
The way his eyebrows moved.
The same serious expression Logan wore whenever he was hiding something.
My heart began racing.
“Why didn’t Logan ever tell me?””
The doctor looked away.
“That is a question I have been asking myself for seven months.””
Seven months.
Exactly.
The same amount of time since Logan disappeared.
I felt anger rise through my exhaustion.
“So you knew?””
Dr. Wright looked back at me.
“Knew what?””
“That I was pregnant.””
His expression changed.
“No.””
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
“I didn’t know.””
“Then how did you know today?””
His eyes moved toward Ethan.
And for the first time, I noticed something.
Dr. Wright wasn’t looking at my son like a stranger recognizing a family resemblance.
He was looking at him like someone seeing a lost piece of his own life returned.
“There are things about Logan you don’t know,” he said.
I almost laughed.
A bitter, tired laugh.
“There are a lot of things about Logan I don’t know.””
The doctor lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.””
I hated those words.
People always said sorry after the damage was already done.
Sorry didn’t bring Logan back.
Sorry didn’t erase seven months of loneliness.
Sorry didn’t give my son the father he deserved.
“Where is he?”” I asked.
Dr. Wright didn’t answer.
My voice became sharper.
“Where is Logan?””
The doctor looked toward the floor.
“I don’t know.””
That answer hurt more than I expected.
Because a part of me still hoped.
A tiny, foolish part of me had imagined that maybe Logan had a reason.
Maybe he had been hurt.
Maybe he had been scared.
Maybe something terrible had happened.
But now?
Now I didn’t know what to believe.
The nurse stepped forward carefully.
“Joanna, you just gave birth. You need to rest.””
I looked at her.
“I need answers.””
She understood.
Everyone in that room understood.
This wasn’t just a medical situation anymore.
This was my life.
Dr. Wright finally sat down.
He looked older than he had when he entered.
“I owe you an explanation.””
I said nothing.
“Before I tell you anything, I need to ask you something.””
“What?””
“Did Logan ever mention my name?””
I thought back.
Our conversations.
Our dinners.
Our nights lying in bed.
I searched through every memory.
“No.””
The doctor nodded slowly.
“That sounds like him.””
The bitterness in his voice surprised me.
“You two weren’t close?””
He gave a sad smile.
“Not for a long time.””
The room went quiet.
Then he began.
“Logan and I had a difficult relationship.””
I looked at him.
“That’s an understatement.””
A painful expression crossed his face.
“Yes.””
He folded his hands together.
“When Logan was younger, he believed I cared more about my career than my family.””
I didn’t respond.
Because I remembered Logan saying something similar.
Not about his father specifically.
But about feeling unwanted.
“He told me his father only cared about achievements,” I said.
Dr. Wright looked up.
“He said that?””
“Yes.””
The doctor looked devastated.
“I spent years trying to give him everything I thought he needed.””
He paused.
“But I gave him everything except what he actually wanted.””
I glanced down at Ethan.
“What was that?””
The doctor’s voice became softer.
“Me.””
For a moment, I saw something other than the famous physician.
I saw a father.
A father who had regrets.
But regret didn’t erase what happened.
“Where was he when Logan left me?””
Dr. Wright looked confused.
“What?””
“He left the night I told him I was pregnant.””
The doctor froze.
“You told him?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
I remembered the date.
The exact night.
“March 14th.””
Dr. Wright’s face changed.
Something flashed in his eyes.
Fear.
“What?””
“What is it?””
He stood suddenly.
The chair scraped against the floor.
“March 14th…”
He repeated the date like he was trying to unlock a memory.
“What happened?”” I demanded.
He looked at me.
“I need to know exactly what Logan said.””
I hesitated.
Then I told him.
“He said he needed time.””
“And?””
“He said he didn’t know if he was ready to be a father.””
Dr. Wright’s jaw tightened.
“Did he say anything else?””
I looked away.
“Yes.””
“What?””
I swallowed.
“He said he was sorry.””
The doctor closed his eyes.
“Of course.””
The way he said it made my skin crawl.
“What does that mean?””
He didn’t answer.
“Dr. Wright.””
He looked at me.
“I think Logan found out something that night.””
“What?””
“I don’t know.””
“That’s not an answer.””
“No,” he admitted.
“It isn’t.””
He looked at Ethan again.
“But I know my son.””
I almost interrupted.
“No, you don’t.””
The words came out before I could stop them.
The doctor went silent.
I looked at him with tears burning in my eyes.
“You don’t know him. Not the way I did.””
My voice cracked.
“You didn’t see him hold my hand during our first ultrasound.””
I looked down.
“You didn’t see him cry when we heard the heartbeat.””
My throat tightened.
“You didn’t see him promise me he would be there.””
Dr. Wright listened.
He didn’t defend himself.
That somehow made it worse.
Because I could tell he believed me.
“I’m sorry, Joanna.””
I shook my head.
“I don’t need your apology.””
“What do you need?””
I looked at Ethan.
“I need to know why the man I loved disappeared.””
The doctor stood quietly.
“I will help you find out.””
I almost laughed.
“Why?””
“Because he’s my son.””
I looked at him.
“And Ethan?””
His expression softened.
“Because he’s my grandson.””
Before I could respond, the delivery room door opened.
A nurse stepped inside holding a folder.
“Excuse me, Dr. Wright?””
He turned.
She looked nervous.
“There’s something you need to see.””
“What?””
She walked closer and handed him a document.
I watched his face change as he read it.
The color disappeared again.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
The nurse looked at me.
“Ms. Joanna, this was found in your baby’s admission paperwork.””
My heart started pounding.
“What was?””
Dr. Wright slowly lowered the paper.
His eyes were fixed on one line.
One name.
Then he whispered:
“Who filled out this form?””
“I did,” I said.
“No.””
His voice was barely audible.
“This signature…”
He looked at me.
“Joanna, this isn’t yours.””
A cold feeling moved through my body.
“What?””
He handed me the paper.
At the bottom was a signature.
A name written in familiar handwriting.
A name I recognized immediately.
Because I had seen it thousands of times.
Logan Wright.
But underneath his signature was a message.
A message that had apparently been written before my son was even born.
May you like
And it said:
*“If anything happens to me, tell Joanna the truth about what my father did.””*
