Joanna's throat tightened. "You... you think my baby is related?"
He nodded, eyes flicking to the newborn's tiny hand. "That birthmark on his left forearm matches a genetic marker we only saw in Elise."
"The same mark that was on your sister?" she whispered.
He swallowed. "The hospital covered it up. They changed the charts, buried the truth. No one was meant to know that Mercy Creek used a faulty medication batch."
Joanna felt the weight of a new purpose settle on her shoulders. "If my son carries that marker, we could finally expose them."
He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a folded paper. "This is the original case file. It was filed under a different name. With your baby's DNA, we could reopen the investigation."
She stared at the paper, heart pounding. "Then we have to protect him. He’s the key."
He placed his hand over hers. "We will, but first we need to get him out of sight."
Alarms and the Locked Door
They turned toward the ward when a sudden blare of alarms ripped through the corridors.
Red lights flashed, casting frantic shadows on the white walls.
“What the—?” Joanna hissed, rising to her feet.
Before they could move, a figure burst through the swinging doors, boots thudding on the linoleum.
He was tall, his face half‑masked, a pistol glinting in his grip.
“Give me the baby now!” the intruder snarled, voice echoing off the sterile tiles.
Wright’s eyes flicked to the infant’s cradle, then to the narrow wall panel beside a supply closet.
He snatched the crying child, cradling him against his chest, and sprinted toward the hidden locker he knew from his sister’s secret notes.
The metal door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a cramped space lined with old linens.
He slipped the baby inside, closing the latch just as the intruder’s footsteps thundered closer.
“Don’t move!” the gun‑man shouted, his breath ragged.
A distant siren wailed, its mournful hymn growing louder, mingling with the hospital’s chaotic alerts.
Wright froze, his pulse pounding in his ears, as the masked figure leveled the weapon directly at him, demanding the infant he had just concealed.
Police and Hospital Administrators Arrive
The corridor erupted with the screech of boots and radio chatter.
A stern-looking officer pushed through the doors, his badge glinting.
"Everyone stay where you are!" he barked, flashing his weapon.
Joanna clutched the blanket, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Dr. Wright stepped forward, his hands still trembling from the earlier confrontation.
"What’s happening?" he asked, voice low.
One of the administrators, a thin man with a clipboard, shouted, "We’ve received a report of an armed intruder. Secure the infant!"
The hallway lights flickered as the armed figure emerged from the shadows.
It was Logan Wright, his face flushed with a mix of fury and desperation.
"Put the baby down, Robert!" he snarled, aiming his gun at the doctor.
Dr. Wright raised his hands, eyes never leaving the newborn curled in Joanna’s arms.
"Logan, this isn’t what you think," he said, his voice shaking.
