THE TRUTH BURIED
My father finally broke.
“There was another child,” he admitted.
Before me.
A baby who supposedly died.
Daniel Whitman.
But the evidence said otherwise.
There were two babies.
Then three.
Ethan was one.
Stolen.
Erased.
Raised under another name.
“Hello, brother,” he said when we finally met.
He stood in a church, holding Olivia hostage.
Wearing my face like a mask.
“You ruined her,” he said, nodding at Olivia. “I just used what you left behind.”
“Hannah, come here,” I said.
She didn’t move.
“I don’t know which one of you to trust,” she whispered.
That hurt more than anything.
Then my father stepped forward.
“Take me,” he said.
Ethan hesitated.
For the first time, I saw something human in him.
Then everything exploded.
A gunshot.
Chaos.
Ethan went down.
Olivia screamed.
Hannah clutched Noah.
And somehow—
We survived.
