Chapter 8 - The Boy Without a Last Name
Dominic watched the video six times.
By the final replay, he no longer saw only Rebecca Carter.
He saw a woman who had spent seven years surviving something he had failed to notice.
He recognized the strained way she held her shoulders.
The unnatural silence between her words.
The quick, frightened glance toward the door.
Those details reminded him of Mia in the cellar.
Two sisters.
Seven years apart.
The same fear.
Dominic forwarded the recording to Detective Hayes.
She called within minutes.
“Where did this come from?”
“Unknown number.”
“Don't respond.”
“Can you identify the location?”
“We'll try.”
“There may be a child involved.”
“I saw that.”
Dominic hesitated.
“Detective, if Nathan has Rebecca—”
“Then we find her through a lawful investigation.”
“Before he moves her.”
“Yes.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
He knew she was right.
But patience had never been his strongest quality.
At the hospital, Mia was recovering slowly.
Her doctors expected her to survive without permanent physical damage, though the psychological consequences were harder to predict.
Harper had developed a habit of counting the nurses who entered the room.
She asked their names.
She watched their shoes.
And each time someone touched the door handle, she moved closer to her mother.
When Dominic arrived the following morning, Harper was drawing at the small table beside the window.
She looked up.
“Mr. Dominic.”
“Good morning, Harper.”
“Are the bad people gone?”
He crouched beside her.
“Some of them are still being looked for.”
She frowned.
“Why don't you just tell them to stop?”
Dominic felt something tighten in his chest.
For years, people had stopped when he told them to.
Or pretended they had.
He had mistaken fear for loyalty so often that he no longer knew when someone was telling him the truth.
“I wish that were enough,” he answered.
Harper returned to her drawing.
Dominic approached Mia.
“I found something.”
He showed her Rebecca's video.
The moment her sister appeared, Mia covered her mouth.
A sound escaped her that was somewhere between a sob and a gasp.
“Rebecca.”
Dominic waited.
“She looks so different.”
“Yes.”
“She's alive.”
“Yes.”
Mia pressed her fingers against the screen.
“She's alive.”
For several moments, that was all she could say.
Then Rebecca mentioned her son.
Mia froze.
“Son?”
Dominic nodded.
“The medical records suggest she was pregnant when she disappeared.”
Mia stared at him.
“Rebecca never told me.”
“She may not have known until shortly before she vanished.”
Mia watched the recording again.
When it ended, she whispered, “Nathan.”
Dominic sat.
“What about him?”
Mia looked toward Harper.
“Rebecca was seeing someone before Elena died.”
“Who?”
“She wouldn't tell me his name.”
“Did she describe him?”
Mia nodded.
“He was older.”
“How much older?”
“Maybe ten years.”
“Anything else?”
“She said he was powerful.”
Dominic remained silent.
“And that he had a temper.”
Mia swallowed.
“She broke things off because he wanted to control every part of her life.”
Dominic thought of Nathan's age.
His influence.
His possessive expression in the photograph.
“Did Rebecca ever mention Nathan?”
“She said he frightened her.”
“That doesn't prove he was the father.”
“I know.”
Mia looked back at the screen.
“But if he is, Rebecca may have been trying to keep her baby away from him.”
Dominic lowered his voice.
“Did she say why?”
Mia hesitated.
Then shook her head.
“Not directly.”
He waited.
“She told me something before she disappeared.”
“What?”
“She said there were people who saw children as family.”
“And?”
“Other people saw them as property.”
Dominic felt sick.
Harper approached the bed.
“Mommy, who's that lady?”
Mia quickly wiped her cheeks.
“That's your Aunt Rebecca.”
Harper studied the image.
“She looks sad.”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Can we help her?”
Mia looked at Dominic.
He answered for both of them.
“We're going to try.”
Harper thought about that.
“Does she have a little girl too?”
“A little boy,” Mia said.
Harper's face brightened.
“Then he can play with me.”
Mia struggled to smile.
“Maybe one day.”
Harper returned to her crayons.
Dominic leaned closer to Mia.
“There's something I need to tell you.”
She watched him carefully.
“Nathan may be the boy's father.”
Mia went still.
“And if he is,” Dominic continued, “the boy might be the one person Nathan cannot afford to let us find.”
Mia looked toward her daughter.
Then at the video.
“What if Rebecca didn't send that recording?”
Dominic frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“She knew you would come looking.”
“Yes.”
“So somebody else might have wanted you to see it.”
The room became quiet.
Dominic understood immediately.
The recording could be evidence.
Or bait.
He called Hayes.
She answered after the second ring.
“We have a preliminary result,” she said.
“On the video?”
“Yes.”
“Where was it made?”
“We don't know yet.”
“Then what did you find?”
Hayes paused.
“The file's creation date predates your discovery of Mia by eleven months.”
Dominic stared at the wall.
Rebecca had recorded her warning almost a year earlier.
Someone had kept it.
Someone had waited.
And someone had decided that now was the moment Dominic should see it.
“Detective,” he said, “whoever sent that recording wanted me looking for Rebecca.”
“That's one possibility.”
“What's another?”
May you like
Hayes answered quietly.
“They wanted Nathan to know you were looking.”
