A week later, a black SUV climbed the snowy hill. Out stepped a tall man in a dark coat and a woman whose poise was flawless but chilling.
“Mr. Sinclair?” the man said. “I’m Richard Brighton, and this is my wife, Victoria. We need to speak about Liam and Elise.”
Inside the cabin, the air thickened with tension.
“Eighteen years ago,” Richard began, “circumstances forced us into an impossible choice. I was under political scrutiny. There were threats. We couldn’t guarantee our children’s safety. We left them where we knew a good man would find them.”
Harold’s jaw tightened. “You left infants on a frozen lake. That’s not protection—that’s abandonment.”
Victoria’s voice was cool, unflinching. “We have proof—DNA, documents, everything. They belong with us.”
At that moment, Liam and Elise entered, catching the last words. Elise’s eyes blazed. “You left us.”
Liam’s voice was low but steady. “You didn’t protect us. You protected yourselves.”
