The Adoption File
Chapter 04 - The Adoption File
The thief had left the leather folder in place, but three pages were missing. Ethan’s security team found no forced entry, which meant the person had a key or knew the building’s access codes. Grace watched his expression harden as the comforting shape of an old family story began to break apart.
The missing pages were listed in the file index: a medical transfer form, a payment receipt, and a letter from St. Agnes to the Vale family attorney.
“That attorney was Conrad Hale,” Ethan said. “He handled my father’s estate, my marriage documents, and Emma’s adoption.”
“Does he still work for you?”
“He runs the legal department of the Vale Foundation.”
Grace almost laughed at the cruelty of it. The same foundation whose gala raised money for vulnerable children had been built partly by a man connected to a stolen child.
Ethan arranged the DNA test through a hospital outside the city. Emma was told it was a routine cheek swab for a family medical history project. Grace gave her sample separately. The results would take five days.
Five days became a narrow bridge over a life Grace could no longer pretend was settled.
She returned to work at the hotel because disappearing would make her look guilty. Some employees whispered that she was targeting a wealthy widower. Grace kept her head down until Emma appeared in the kitchen doorway with her nanny.
“Daddy said I could say hello,” the girl announced.
Grace crouched, careful not to reach for her. “Hello, Emma.”
Emma held up Luna. “She missed you.”
“Maybe she remembered my bad sewing.”
“It isn’t bad. It’s special.” Emma traced the blue stitches. “Mom Claire used to say special things have mistakes because that’s how you know a person made them.”
Ethan stood several feet away, listening. His guarded expression softened at the mention of Claire.
Emma asked Grace to repair a loose seam under the rabbit’s bow. With Ethan’s permission, Grace carefully opened the edge. Her needle touched something stiff hidden inside the stuffing.
She stopped.
“What is it?” Ethan asked.
Grace widened the seam and removed a strip of waxed fabric folded into a square. Inside was a tiny brass key and a note written in faded blue ink.
Ethan recognized the handwriting before Grace unfolded it.
It belonged to Claire.
If questions ever find this rabbit, the note read, open box 317 at Union Station. Do not trust the adoption attorney.
Ethan lowered himself into a chair.
Emma looked between the adults. “Did Mom Claire leave us a treasure hunt?”
May you like
Ethan managed a smile. “Maybe she left us the truth.”
Across the kitchen, a man in a gray suit quietly stepped away from the doorway and made a call.
