Chapter 9 - THE TRUTH BEHIND GRACE'S BIRTH
The detectives advised us not to go to Roosevelt Pier alone.
Adrian agreed.
That surprised everyone.
Especially me.
"I don't care who gets credit," he told the lead investigator. "I want my son alive."
By noon, investigators had confirmed that Marcus controlled several FirstLight financial accounts through intermediaries.
He also held administrative access to private medical transport records.
The evidence was beginning to establish a disturbing pattern.
Money had been diverted.
Patient information altered.
Families misled.
And vulnerable newborns used as justification for questionable medical transfers and fraudulent reimbursement claims.
But one question remained.
Why was Grace's name involved?
I met with Dr. Evelyn Porter, the neonatologist who had treated my daughter.
She had requested the meeting after learning about the FirstLight investigation.
I entered her office carrying Grace's medical records.
My hands shook.
Dr. Porter looked exhausted.
"Hannah, I'm so sorry."
I sat down.
"Did someone cause my daughter's death?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she opened the medical chart.
"Grace was born extremely premature. Her condition was critical from the beginning."
I nodded.
I remembered.
Every second.
Every alarm.
Every frightened glance between the doctors.
Dr. Porter continued.
"Based on the clinical records we've reviewed, there is no evidence that FirstLight caused her premature birth or that she died because treatment was deliberately withheld."
I closed my eyes.
Relief and grief struck together.
"So she really was too small."
"She was very fragile. We provided the care appropriate to her condition, and she died despite those efforts."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
For weeks, I had tortured myself with imagined failures.
Now I understood that the fraud surrounding Grace's name was separate from the tragedy of her death.
It did not make the loss smaller.
But it mattered.
"What did FirstLight do?" I whispered.
Dr. Porter handed me a report.
"After Grace died, someone altered administrative records to make it appear she had received post-discharge services."
I stared at the page.
"Services?"
"Claims were submitted for follow-up care that never occurred."
My stomach turned.
"They used my dead daughter to steal money?"
Dr. Porter lowered her eyes.
"That is what investigators are examining."
I began crying again.
Not because I had discovered a new reason for Grace's death.
Because someone had exploited it.
My daughter had lived seventeen hours.
And somewhere, someone had decided even those seventeen hours could be turned into a financial opportunity.
When I returned to the estate, Adrian was sitting alone in the nursery.
He held Lucas's empty blanket.
I approached quietly.
"Adrian."
He looked up.
"Did you find out?"
I nodded.
I explained everything.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, his expression became painfully still.
"They used her name."
"Yes."
He lowered his head.
"I'm sorry."
I sat beside him.
"She wasn't just a number."
"I know."
"She had dark hair and little hands. She liked being held close. She was alive."
His eyes filled.
"I know, Hannah."
I looked at him.
For weeks, I had thought helping Lucas might somehow make up for losing Grace.
But I finally understood something.
Grace did not need to be replaced.
Lucas did not need to carry the weight of my grief.
They were two different children.
Both deserving love.
I reached for Adrian's hand.
"We're bringing your son home."
He squeezed my fingers.
That evening, Grace Callahan, the lead investigator coordinating with federal authorities, arrived with news.
Marcus had sent another message.
He demanded the green notebook and control of the FirstLight accounts.
But investigators had discovered that some of the funds were already frozen.
Marcus might not know that.
Adrian listened carefully.
Then Grace said, "There's something else."
She placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Marcus entering a private medical transport facility.
Beside him stood a woman wearing a white coat.
I recognized her instantly.
My heart stopped.
"That's Leah."
Adrian turned toward me.
"The social worker?"
I nodded.
Grace studied my face.
"Do you know why she'd be meeting him?"
"No."
I reached for my phone.
Leah's number went straight to voicemail.
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
She had told me she was frightened.
She had helped preserve the records.
She had known Isabel.
But the photograph showed her beside the man who had taken Lucas.
Was she working with him?
Or was she another person trapped inside his scheme?
Before I could decide, a message appeared on my phone.
May you like
From Leah.
Hannah, please don't believe what the photographs suggest. I can explain everything. But if Marcus finds out I contacted you, Lucas will die.
