Chapter 11 - Two Heartbeats
I laughed because the alternative was breaking apart.
“Twins?” I said. “I have had seven months of appointments. I have seen every scan.”
Cassandra looked at the floor.
Dominic did not move.
Rebecca called another maternal-fetal specialist she trusted. We drove there under police escort.
The new ultrasound room was dark except for the monitor.
The technician moved the probe slowly across my stomach.
One heartbeat filled the room.
Fast. Strong.
I stared at the grainy image and tried to make sense of every gray curve. Dominic stood behind me with both hands braced on the back of a chair, as if touching anything else would make the moment less real. He had faced armed men without changing expression, but his face now looked almost boyish with fear. I realized then that whatever else he had hidden from me, he had not known this. He was being blindsided beside me.
Then she shifted the angle.
A second rhythm appeared.
I started crying before anyone spoke.
The specialist pointed at the screen. “There are two babies.”
Dominic sat down hard in the chair beside me.
“How?” I whispered.
“One fetus is positioned behind the other. It can be missed early, but not repeatedly at this stage.”
Meaning someone had lied.
Repeatedly.
I wiped my face. “Are they healthy?”
“So far, yes. Smaller than average, but stable.”
Dominic reached for my hand.
I let him hold it for three seconds.
Then I pulled away.
Outside the room, Detective Ortiz was waiting.
“We found something at your house.”
She showed us a photo of a burner phone taped beneath a nursery drawer.
It contained messages between a number saved as V and someone saved as DOC.
DELIVERY MUST HAPPEN AT ST. AGNES.
SECOND CHILD DOES NOT APPEAR ON FAMILY RECORD UNTIL TRANSFER.
Rebecca’s face went white. “Transfer where?”
Ortiz scrolled.
A final message appeared.
BABY B GOES TO V. BABY A STAYS WITH PARENTS.
I could not process the words.
Dominic could.
His entire body changed.
“Victor planned to steal one of our children.”
Ortiz held up a hand. “We don’t know that yet.”
“Yes,” I said. My voice sounded different to me. “We do.”
My phone buzzed.
A video arrived.
Dr. Levin sat tied to a chair in what looked like a basement.
May you like
A man behind the camera said, “Bring the Kline drive to Pier Thirty-One by midnight.”
Then he added, “Come alone, Mrs. Moretti, or the doctor won’t see morning.”
