Chapter 4: Room 314
The drive to the Riverside Hotel was almost unbearable.
Jordan sat in the passenger seat.
He hadn't spoken since we left the house.
I kept both hands on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at him.
He was staring through the window.
The streetlights moved across his face in pale yellow flashes.
Finally, he spoke.
"What if she doesn't like me?""
I looked at him.
"Who?""
"My biological mother.""
I swallowed.
"Jordan, she has been looking for you.""
"But she doesn't know me.""
"She wants to.""
"What if she thinks I'm a stranger?""
I wanted to give him an answer that would make everything easier.
But I couldn't.
So I told him the truth.
"Then we'll give her time. Nobody gets to demand that you feel something immediately.""
He nodded.
A few seconds passed.
Then he asked, "Are you angry with me?""
I nearly pulled the car over.
"Why would I be angry with you?""
"Because I'm not your biological son.""
I tightened my grip on the wheel.
"Jordan, I didn't raise you because of a laboratory result.""
He looked down.
"I know.""
"I raised you because you were my little boy. Because you needed someone to hold you when you cried. Because you were stubborn about eating vegetables and thought dinosaurs were still hiding in the woods.""
He smiled faintly.
"You told me that when I was six.""
"And you believed me.""
"You said you'd seen one.""
"I was trying to get you to eat broccoli.""
For the first time that evening, he laughed.
It lasted only a second.
But it mattered.
When we arrived, I parked outside the hotel entrance.
Jordan stared at the building.
"Room 314?""
"That's what Marcus said.""
He nodded.
We took the elevator.
Neither of us spoke.
When we reached the third floor, Jordan stopped outside the room.
He raised his hand.
Then lowered it.
"Dad?""
"Yes?""
"Will you knock?""
I did.
Three seconds passed.
Then the door opened.
A woman stood inside.
She looked to be in her mid-forties.
Her dark hair was pulled back, and her eyes were red.
She was wearing a simple gray sweater and holding a photograph.
When she saw Jordan, her hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh my God.""
Jordan stood frozen.
The woman began crying.
"Jordan?""
He nodded.
She took one step forward, then stopped.
"May I hug you?""
Jordan looked at me.
I nodded.
He moved toward her.
She wrapped her arms around him carefully.
Not like someone claiming ownership.
Like someone afraid that if she held him too tightly, he might disappear.
"I've dreamed about this," she whispered.
Jordan didn't move.
Then, slowly, his arms came around her.
She broke down.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.""
Jordan's voice was barely audible.
"Did you really think I was dead?""
Elena pulled back.
She looked into his face.
"Yes.""
He swallowed.
"Why didn't you find me?""
"I tried.""
She walked to the small desk beside the window and picked up a folder.
"I hired an investigator when I discovered the truth. But the hospital records had been altered, and the information your uncle gave me was false.""
She handed Jordan a document.
It was a letter.
A letter from a hospital administrator dated sixteen years earlier.
The letter stated that her newborn child had died shortly after birth.
There was also a photograph of a small white hospital blanket.
Jordan stared at it.
"Is this mine?""
Elena nodded.
"I kept it.""
He touched the edge of the photograph.
"Why?""
"Because it was the only thing I had left.""
Jordan looked away.
I felt my throat tightening.
Elena turned toward me.
"You're Arthur.""
"Yes.""
She held out her hand.
"Thank you for raising him.""
I shook her hand.
"He is my son.""
Her eyes filled again.
"I know.""
She looked at Jordan.
"And I know you don't owe me anything. I don't expect you to call me Mom. I don't expect you to forgive anyone tonight.""
Jordan stared at the floor.
"Can I ask you something?""
"Anything.""
"Why did you wait six months after finding out?""
Elena sat down.
"Because I needed proof. And because I was afraid.""
"Of Marcus?""
"Of everyone.""
She opened the folder again.
Inside was a printed email.
The sender was Marcus.
The date was six months earlier.
*Elena, I know you have the results. Please don't contact the children. Claire has built a life around them, and Arthur believes they are his. If you expose this, you will destroy four lives.*
Jordan read it twice.
Then he looked at me.
"She has proof.""
I took the paper.
There were more messages beneath it.
One from Claire.
*You promised to keep this buried. I have done everything to protect the children. If you come near Jordan, I will tell him what really happened to your husband.*
I looked at Elena.
"What happened to your husband?""
Her face changed.
She shook her head.
"Marcus told you I had a husband?""
I looked at the email again.
"Apparently.""
Elena sat very still.
Then she whispered, "Marcus wasn't my husband.""
I frowned.
"But the document...""
"He was my fiancé. We separated before Jordan was born.""
"Then why did Claire write that?""
Elena looked toward the window.
"Because she knows something about the night Jordan was born.""
"What?""
Elena hesitated.
Then she opened another folder.
This one contained a hospital incident report.
I recognized the date immediately.
It was the same night Maya and Jordan had been born.
There was a paragraph highlighted in yellow.
The report stated that a nurse had entered the wrong identification number into the newborn system.
But beneath that, someone had handwritten an additional note.
*Possible intentional alteration of infant identification. Security review requested.*
I read it again.
"Intentional?""
Elena nodded.
"The hospital never completed the investigation.""
"Why?""
"Because the nurse disappeared.""
I felt cold.
"Disappeared?""
"She resigned three days later. Nobody could find her.""
Jordan stepped closer.
"Who was she?""
Elena looked at him.
"Her name was Patricia Wells.""
I stared at the report.
I knew that name.
Not from the hospital.
From my own family.
Patricia Wells had been Claire's closest friend.
She had been the maid of honor at our wedding.
She had babysat Jordan and Maya.
And three months earlier, I had received a Christmas card from her.
I looked at the date on the report.
Then I looked at Elena.
"Do you know where she is?""
Elena nodded slowly.
"I spoke to her last week.""
"Where?""
"She works at a care facility outside town.""
Jordan's face tightened.
"What did she say?""
Elena picked up her phone.
"She said she was ready to tell the truth.""
My phone buzzed.
A message from Nia.
*Dad, please come home. Mom is packing. Uncle Marcus is here again.*
Another message appeared.
*And he brought a man I've never seen before.*
Then a third.
*They're taking the documents.*
I showed Jordan.
He stood immediately.
"We have to go.""
Elena grabbed her coat.
"I'm coming.""
I shook my head.
"Not yet. If Claire knows you're here, she'll panic.""
Elena looked at me.
"Arthur, she has been panicking for sixteen years.""
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small flash drive.
"Before you leave, you need to see this.""
She handed it to me.
"What is it?""
"The original hospital security recording.""
My heart began pounding.
"Why didn't you show me this before?""
"Because I wanted Jordan to meet me first.""
She plugged the drive into her laptop.
A grainy recording appeared.
The timestamp showed 11:38 p.m.
A nurse entered the nursery.
She checked two bassinets.
Then she looked toward the door.
Someone stepped inside.
A woman.
She was wearing a hospital visitor badge.
Elena leaned closer to the screen.
I recognized her immediately.
Claire.
She was carrying a white blanket.
And she wasn't alone.
Behind her stood Marcus.
But what happened next made me forget to breathe.
Claire reached into one bassinet and lifted a newborn.
Marcus lifted the other.
Then they exchanged the babies.
Jordan stared at the screen.
"Mom did that?""
Elena shook her head.
"Keep watching.""
The footage continued.
Marcus handed Claire a document.
She signed it.
Then the two of them walked out of the nursery in opposite directions.
At 11:42 p.m., a nurse returned.
She looked into both bassinets.
And began screaming.
I paused the recording.
My hands were shaking.
"Why did they switch the babies?""
Elena looked at me.
"That's what Patricia wants to explain.""
Then she pointed at the screen.
"Look at the woman in the doorway.""
I enlarged the image.
A third person had been standing behind the glass.
Someone had watched the entire exchange.
Someone who had never been mentioned in any of the documents.
May you like
Someone I knew.
My father.
