“She was my wife,” Sebastian said, his voice trembling. “And twenty-three years ago, she disappeared while carrying my child.”
Ten minutes later, Ivy was sitting in the back of a pristine, black luxury sedan, wrapped in a heavy wool coat that Sebastian had insisted she take from his own shoulders. The interior smelled of expensive leather and cedar wood. Sebastian sat across from her, his phone already pressed to his ear as the driver sped through the rain-slicked streets of Silver Creek.
“Harrison, I don’t care what time it is,” Sebastian spoke sharply into the phone. “I need you at the private lab at the medical center in fifteen minutes. Set up a rapid high-throughput DNA comparison immediately. Pull my genetic profile from the family registry archives. We have an emergency.”
They arrived at the private wing of the Silver Creek Medical Research Center under the cover of night. Dr. Harrison, a silver-haired physician who had been the Cross family’s doctor for thirty years, was waiting in a sterile, brightly lit laboratory room. He looked confused until he saw Sebastian walk in with the young woman, holding her hand with a protective tightness that seemed almost desperate.
Without speaking a word, Dr. Harrison prepared the sterile swabs. He gently took samples from the inside of Ivy’s cheek, then from Sebastian’s.
“How long will the accelerated sequence take?” Sebastian demanded, pacing back and forth across the linoleum floor like a caged predator.
“With the high-density genomic analyzers in the private sector, if I run the primary markers at maximum speed, we will have a definitive match probability in about three hours,” Dr. Harrison explained softly, looking between the two of them with growing realization. “Sebastian… is this… could this be…?”
“Just run the test, Harrison,” Sebastian whispered, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “Run it three times to be certain.”
Sebastian drove Ivy to his private estate on the outskirts of the city to wait out the night. The mansion was vast, quiet, and grand, filled with towering marble arches and priceless art, yet it felt cold and hollow. He led her into the grand library, where a fire was roaring in a massive stone hearth. A housekeeper brought hot tea and warm food on a silver tray, serving Ivy with quiet respect.
Ivy sat on the edge of a deep leather sofa, holding the warm mug in her hands, looking around the towering room lined with thousands of books. “You live here all by yourself?” she asked gently.
“I have for twenty-three years,” Sebastian replied, sitting in a chair across from her. He stared into the fire. “After Eleanor died… after I lost her and our unborn baby… I couldn’t bear the thought of sharing this space with anyone else. I poured every second of my life into work. I thought if I built enough wealth, I could outrun the silence.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it and placed it on the table between them. Inside sat a framed photograph of a young woman with warm brown hair, a radiant smile, and hazel eyes that matched Ivy’s exactly. She was wearing the very same gold cameo necklace.
Ivy stared at the photograph, her breath hitching in her throat. For the first time in her life, she saw a face that mirrored her own. “She… she looks like me.”
“Her name was Eleanor,” Sebastian said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “She was kind, stubborn, and loved art. On the night she disappeared, she was coming back from visiting her sister in the neighboring county. The storm was unbearable. If she somehow survived that crash… if someone pulled her from the river and took her to a small clinic… she might have given birth before she passed away.”
“And whoever delivered me might have left me at the orphanage with her necklace,” Ivy whispered, the pieces of a life she had never known finally falling into place.
For the next two hours, they spoke in quiet tones. Ivy told him about her upbringing—about the cold dormitories of the orphanage, the hard work, the dream she had always cherished of one day finding someone who belonged to her. Sebastian listened to every word, his heart breaking for every hardship she had endured while he had lived in luxury just thirty miles away.
By 2:50 A.M., exhaustion took over Ivy. She leaned her head back against the cushion of the sofa, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of the fire enveloped her. Sebastian remained seated, staring at the phone sitting on the table between them, his chest tight with an anxiety so intense he could barely breathe.
The digital clock on the mantle ticked forward. 2:58 A.M. 2:59 A.M.
At exactly 3:00 A.M., the landline phone on the desk rang, the sharp sound shattering the silence of the room like a thunderclap.
Ivy jolted awake, her heart racing.
Sebastian stood up so fast his chair nearly tipped backward. He lunged across the desk and snatched the receiver before the second ring could finish. “Harrison. Tell me.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sebastian could hear the heavy, raspy breath of his old doctor, followed by the faint rustle of printed paper.
