Chapter 3: The Secret in the Birth Certificate
Hannah read the message three times.
Don't trust Ethan.
He's not Grace's father.
For several seconds, the hospital consultation room seemed to disappear around her.
Dr. Lewis leaned forward.
“What happened?””
She handed him the phone.
He read the message, then looked at her.
“Who sent this?””
“A former employee. Her name is Rebecca.””
“Did she explain?””
“She said she knew about Isabella. Then someone interrupted the call.””
Dr. Lewis returned the phone.
“This is getting more serious.””
Hannah stared at the message.
“If Ethan isn't Grace's father, why is he raising her?””
“That doesn't necessarily mean the child was conceived outside the marriage. There could be other explanations.””
“But why would Savannah hide it?””
Dr. Lewis didn't answer.
Hannah thought about the way Savannah had looked at Grace beside the pool.
There had been no panic.
No maternal instinct.
Only something cold.
She remembered another detail.
During her first week at the mansion, Savannah had complained that Grace was too clingy.
“She cries whenever I leave the room,” Savannah had said, rolling her eyes.
“It's exhausting.””
Hannah had assumed it was ordinary parental frustration.
Now she wasn't so sure.
“I need to find Rebecca,” Hannah said.
Dr. Lewis shook his head.
“Not alone. If someone threatened her, you could be putting yourself in danger.””
“I can't just sit here.””
“You don't have to. But you need to be careful.””
Hannah left the hospital with the message saved on her phone.
At 7:15 that evening, she received another call.
This time, the number was hidden.
“Hannah?””
It was Rebecca.
“Where are you?””
“I can't tell you.””
“Are you safe?””
“For now.””
“What happened earlier?””
“I was at the mansion when Savannah received a phone call.””
Hannah moved toward her apartment window.
“What phone call?””
“From a woman named Claire.””
“Who is Claire?””
“I don't know. But Savannah started shouting.””
Rebecca's breathing was uneven.
“She said the baby wasn't supposed to survive.””
Hannah's fingers tightened around the phone.
“What baby?””
“Grace.””
A terrible silence followed.
Rebecca continued.
“I was outside the study. I heard everything.””
Hannah felt her stomach turn.
“Why would Savannah say that?””
“I don't know. But when I walked into the room, she was holding a photograph.””
“What photograph?””
“A hospital photograph of a newborn.””
Hannah swallowed.
“Was it Grace?””
“I think so.””
“Rebecca, what are you trying to tell me?””
The former assistant lowered her voice.
“I think Savannah had a reason for keeping Grace alive. And it wasn't because she wanted to be a mother.””
Hannah closed her eyes.
“Where can we meet?””
“Tomorrow. There's a coffee shop on Briar Street. Ten in the morning.””
“Will you bring the photograph?””
“Yes.””
“Rebecca, one more thing. Why did you leave the mansion?””
The woman didn't answer immediately.
Then she whispered:
“Because I found a second birth certificate.””
The line went dead.
Hannah spent the rest of the evening trying to find information about the Whitmore family.
Ethan Whitmore was a successful real estate developer. His company owned luxury properties across three states.
Savannah's background was less public.
She had married Ethan four years earlier after a brief relationship with a wealthy businessman in Chicago.
There were no photographs of her childhood.
No interviews with her parents.
No information about previous relationships.
It was as though her life had begun the day she married Ethan.
At 9:48 the next morning, Hannah arrived at the coffee shop on Briar Street.
She chose a table near the window.
Rebecca was supposed to arrive at ten.
At 10:07, she still hadn't appeared.
At 10:12, Hannah called her.
No answer.
At 10:18, a woman wearing a dark coat entered the shop.
She looked around nervously.
Then she approached Hannah.
“Are you Hannah?””
“Yes. Rebecca?””
The woman nodded.
She was in her late thirties, with tired eyes and dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
She placed a brown envelope on the table.
“I can't stay long.””
Hannah looked at the envelope.
“What is this?””
“Copies of the documents I found.””
Rebecca sat down but kept her coat on.
Hannah opened the envelope.
Inside were several printed emails, a hospital discharge summary, and two photographs.
The first photograph showed Savannah holding a newborn baby.
The second showed Ethan standing beside a hospital bed.
Hannah recognized the room.
It was the private maternity ward at St. Catherine's Hospital.
“What am I looking at?””
Rebecca pointed toward the first photograph.
“This was taken three years ago.””
Hannah looked closer.
Savannah appeared younger.
The baby was wrapped in a white blanket.
“Is this Isabella?””
Rebecca nodded.
“That's what Savannah called her.””
“But Grace is only two.””
“I know.””
Hannah turned to the second photograph.
Ethan was standing beside the hospital bed, holding a bouquet of flowers.
Savannah was not in the picture.
“Why is Ethan here?””
“Because he was told the baby was his.””
Hannah looked up.
“What?””
Rebecca took a shaky breath.
“He believed Savannah had given birth to his daughter.””
“But you said she didn't.””
“I said I didn't think she did.””
Hannah looked down at the documents.
One email was dated three years earlier.
It had been sent from an account belonging to Dr. Samuel Reeves.
The subject line read:
*PATERNITY CONFIRMATION — CONFIDENTIAL.*
Hannah read the message.
It contained a short statement claiming that the newborn's biological father had been confirmed as Ethan Whitmore.
But there was something strange.
The laboratory identification number was missing.
And the email had been forwarded from a private account rather than the hospital's official system.
“Was there a DNA test?””
Rebecca shook her head.
“Not one I ever saw.””
“Then how did Savannah convince Ethan?””
“She showed him a document.””
“What document?””
“A paternity report.””
Hannah looked at her.
“Did you see it?””
Rebecca nodded.
“It was in the study. I made a copy.””
She reached into her handbag and produced another sheet.
Hannah took it.
The document appeared official.
It had a laboratory logo, a signature, and a statement confirming a biological relationship.
But the date was wrong.
The report was supposedly issued two days before the baby was born.
Hannah looked up.
“That's impossible.””
“Exactly.””
Rebecca glanced toward the window.
“Savannah didn't know I had copied it.””
“Why didn't you report her?””
Rebecca gave a bitter laugh.
“Because I was scared.””
“Of Savannah?””
“Of Ethan.””
Hannah frowned.
Rebecca leaned closer.
“You think he's innocent because he slapped you? You think he's just a husband who believes his pregnant wife?””
Hannah remembered his expression.
The anger.
The certainty.
The way he had refused to listen.
“What are you saying?””
Rebecca looked directly into her eyes.
“Ethan knew about the fake paternity report.””
Hannah felt her stomach tighten.
“Then why did he pretend—”
“Because he wanted a child.””
Rebecca's voice cracked.
“He wanted an heir. His family had been pressuring him for years. Savannah promised him a baby, and he agreed not to ask too many questions.””
Hannah slowly looked down at the photograph.
“Then who gave birth to Isabella?””
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don't know. But I found another document.””
She pulled out a folded sheet.
It was a hospital admission record.
The patient's name was Claire Bennett.
The admission date matched the date of Isabella's birth.
The delivery record stated that Claire had given birth to a healthy baby girl.
But the discharge section contained an unusual notation.
*INFANT TRANSFERRED TO PRIVATE GUARDIANSHIP.*
Hannah read it again.
“Private guardianship?””
Rebecca nodded.
“Claire disappeared after that.””
“Where did she go?””
“I don't know.””
Hannah looked at the record.
“Isabella was her daughter?””
“I believe so.””
“Then what happened to Isabella?””
Rebecca's eyes filled.
“I think she was the baby Ethan and Savannah raised for a while.””
Hannah stared at her.
“But Grace is two.””
Rebecca lowered her voice.
“Exactly.””
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Rebecca reached across the table and gripped Hannah's wrist.
“Listen to me. There's something else.””
“What?””
“Last month, Savannah received a letter from a lawyer.””
“What did it say?””
“She was being asked to return a child.””
Hannah felt her heart begin to pound.
“Which child?””
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don't know. But Savannah was furious. She said she had already paid enough.””
Hannah thought of the two names.
Grace.
Isabella.
Then another possibility entered her mind.
“What if they're the same child?””
Rebecca stared at her.
“I don't understand.””
“What if Grace isn't Grace? What if Savannah changed her identity?””
Rebecca's face went pale.
Before she could respond, Hannah's phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
*You should stop asking questions about the Whitmore family.*
Another message arrived immediately.
This one contained a photograph.
Hannah opened it.
Her blood turned cold.
It showed Grace sitting on the floor of her bedroom, holding a stuffed rabbit.
Savannah stood behind her.
The photograph had clearly been taken inside the mansion.
Underneath it was a short sentence.
*The next time you see this child, she may not be alive.*
Hannah pushed her chair back.
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“Oh, God.””
Hannah immediately called the police.
But before the call connected, another message appeared.
This time, it came from Ethan.
*Hannah, I know you've been talking to Rebecca. I need you to come to the mansion immediately.*
A second message followed.
*Savannah is in labor.*
Hannah stared at the screen.
Savannah wasn't supposed to give birth for another two weeks.
May you like
And then Ethan sent one final message.
*The baby isn't breathing.*
