Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW ABOUT NOAH
Gabriel's mother was named Catherine Roth.
She had been dead for six years.
A stroke, according to every newspaper.
A beloved philanthropist.
A devoted wife.
A grieving widow.
But now I was beginning to understand that the Roth family had a talent for burying inconvenient truths beneath beautiful headlines.
We drove to Gabriel's penthouse.
Noah fell asleep in the back seat.
I sat beside Gabriel.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
Finally, I asked:
“Why did your mother visit me?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't believe that.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you think.”
Gabriel stared out the window.
“I think she was afraid.”
“Of Ethan?”
“Maybe.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
He looked at Noah.
“Of what you were carrying.”
I swallowed.
“You mean my baby.”
“Yes.”
We entered the penthouse through a private elevator.
Gabriel immediately ordered security to check every room.
Noah woke.
“Are we at your house?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Temporary.”
Noah looked around.
“It's huge.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Too huge.”
“Do you have a pool?”
“Yes.”
“Can Mommy swim?”
I laughed despite everything.
“Yes.”
Noah looked at Gabriel.
“Can she?”
Gabriel's mouth curved.
“She probably can.”
“Then you're invited to dinner.”
I groaned.
“Noah.”
“What?”
“You cannot keep inviting my boss to our house.”
“Why?”
“Because he's my boss.”
Gabriel looked amused.
“Technically, I'm your CEO.”
Noah considered this.
“That's boring.”
Gabriel laughed.
For one brief moment, everything felt normal.
Then a door opened.
A woman stepped into the room.
She was elegant.
Tall.
Gray-haired.
And wearing a necklace I recognized.
I had seen it in old photographs of Catherine Roth.
Gabriel froze.
“Mother?”
The woman smiled.
“Hello, Gabriel.”
My blood turned cold.
Gabriel took a step backward.
“No.”
The woman looked at him.
“You've grown.”
“That's impossible.”
She laughed softly.
“I know.”
I grabbed Noah.
Gabriel stared at her as if looking at a ghost.
“You died.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because they were going to kill my son.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Your father.”
Silence.
Catherine looked at me.
“You're Claire.”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what my family did to you.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“What did our family do?”
Catherine looked at Noah.
“They chose him.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“Because Ethan refused.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“Refused what?”
Catherine sat down.
“The program needed a child with specific genetic markers.”
I felt sick.
“Noah.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your son has a genetic mutation that makes him extremely rare.”
“What mutation?”
“A protective mutation.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Protective?”
Catherine nodded.
“It makes certain diseases significantly less likely.”
I stared.
“That doesn't explain why they wanted him.”
“It does if you're trying to create a private genetic database.”
Gabriel's expression became furious.
“You're saying my father wanted Noah's DNA?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To sell it.”
The room went silent.
“To pharmaceutical companies.”
I looked at Noah.
My son was asleep on the sofa.
Seven years old.
Small.
Innocent.
And powerful people had been tracking him since before he could speak.
“Who else knows?”
Catherine looked at me.
“Ethan.”
“That's why he disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Because he believed you were being watched.”
I stared.
“He could have trusted me.”
“He thought if you knew, they'd kill you.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Then Catherine said something that made my blood freeze.
“Ethan didn't abandon you.”
I looked at her.
“He was protecting you.”
“No.”
“He loved you.”
I shook my head.
“Then why did he leave?”
Catherine looked toward the window.
“Because your sister was already dead.”
I froze.
“What?”
Catherine closed her eyes.
“Ethan had another child.”
My heart stopped.
“With whom?”
Catherine looked at Noah.
May you like
“Your son has a twin.”
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