Chapter 8 - The First Set of Twins
The first twins were born in 1991.
That was what Julian told police after the shooting.
Not in an interrogation room.
Not under oath.
In an ambulance bay while Sienna was taken to surgery and I stood ten feet away with a detective recording every word.
Eleanor had delivered twin boys at a private clinic outside San Antonio.
One died within hours.
The other disappeared.
At least, that was the official family story.
“Which one lived?” I asked.
Julian rubbed both hands over his face.
“I don’t know.”
“You named our sons after them.”
“I found the names in Beatrice’s journals.”
“You never told me.”
“I thought it was a way of restoring something.”
“Without telling their mother what you were restoring?”
He had no answer.
Detective Ramos stepped closer.
“Mr. Vance, who were the twins’ father?”
Julian looked at him.
“Adrian.”
Gabriel, standing beside the ambulance bay doors, went rigid.
His father again.
Adrian had fathered Gabriel with Rebecca.
Then twin boys with Eleanor.
Then, apparently, Naomi in 1993.
And possibly Julian in 1995.
It sounded less like a family tree than a crime scene.
Gabriel said, “That makes no sense.”
Julian looked at him.
“You think I don’t know who you are?”
“You’ve known?”
“For years.”
Gabriel’s face darkened. “Victor told you?”
“No. Beatrice did.”
“When?”
“The week before she died.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“What else did she tell you?”
Julian’s mouth tightened.
“That Victor lied about everything.”
Naomi arrived twenty minutes later after leaving the babies with Teresa and two police officers.
She walked straight up to Julian.
“Where is Helen?”
“I don’t know.”
She slapped him.
The detective caught her wrist before she could do it again.
“Ms. Vale.”
Naomi yanked free.
“That was personal.”
Julian touched his cheek.
“I deserved it.”
“No,” I said. “You deserve to answer.”
He looked at Naomi.
“I think Victor has her at the old quarry house.”
Gabriel swore.
“What quarry house?” I asked.
“A property outside Marble Falls,” Julian said. “It belonged to Adrian.”
Gabriel stared at him.
“It burned in 1996.”
“The main structure did. There’s a caretaker cottage.”
Detective Ramos was already calling it in.
Naomi stood trembling.
“If she’s hurt—”
Julian cut in.
“Victor won’t hurt her until he gets the amendment.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because Helen has something else.”
Naomi’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“A birth ledger.”
Naomi went still.
“The clinic ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Why does Helen have it?”
“Because she stole it before the clinic closed.”
Gabriel leaned against the wall.
“My mother worked at that clinic.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What?” I asked.
“Rebecca was a nurse before she married Adrian.”
Another link.
Another secret.
Julian continued.
“The ledger records every child Eleanor delivered.”
Naomi’s face hardened.
“How many?”
Julian didn’t answer.
“How many?”
“Four pregnancies.”
“Children.”
“Six.”
My skin went cold.
Twins in 1991.
Naomi in 1993.
Julian in 1995.
That made four children accounted for.
“Six?” Gabriel repeated.
Julian nodded.
“There was another set of twins.”
Nobody spoke.
“When?” I asked.
“1989.”
Gabriel stared as if he had stopped understanding language.
“That was before she married Victor.”
“Yes.”
“Father?”
“Unknown.”
Naomi’s voice was barely audible. “Where are they?”
“One was adopted. One was listed as stillborn.”
“Listed?” I said.
Julian looked at me.
“Beatrice believed neither died.”
My mind went to my sons.
Leo and Oliver.
Children treated as strategic pieces decades before they existed.
Naomi said, “Why would Victor care about children who weren’t his?”
“Because the trust follows Beatrice’s descendants and branch rights through blood, not marriage.”
Eleanor was Beatrice’s daughter.
I had always assumed she married into Vance wealth.
She had not.
Victor had.
That changed everything.
Gabriel laughed softly.
“All these years Victor acted like the bloodline was his.”
Julian said, “That was the point.”
A detective approached.
“We have units heading to the quarry property.”
Naomi started for her car.
Ramos blocked her.
“You’re not going.”
“She’s my mother.”
“And this may be an active hostage scene.”
“I’m going.”
“You’ll wait at the staging area.”
Naomi looked ready to argue.
I took her hand.
“Go. I’ll stay with the twins.”
She nodded.
Gabriel went with her.
Julian remained.
I turned to him.
“You are not coming with me.”
“I know.”
“You are not seeing the boys.”
“I know.”
“You are not calling me unless it is about Helen or an immediate threat.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
I walked away.
“Mara.”
I stopped.
“I never wanted to take them from you.”
I turned.
“You brought twenty relatives into a hospital room and offered me money to leave them.”
“I was trying to create witnesses.”
“To what?”
“That Victor was willing to attach money to custody.”
I stared.
He continued.
“I knew Beatrice’s clause.”
My blood ran cold.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“So you were setting a trap too?”
His eyes met mine.
“I thought if the transfer happened, Victor’s control could be suspended.”
“Using my babies.”
“I thought you’d fight.”
“You thought I’d fight?”
“I knew you.”
“No. You underestimated me. There’s a difference.”
He looked destroyed.
For a second, the man I had loved stood in front of me.
Then I remembered Sienna.
The lies.
The folder.
“You could have told me.”
“I couldn’t know if you’d been compromised.”
I laughed.
“You thought I might be working with your father?”
“I didn’t know who anyone was working with.”
“Then why cheat?”
His face closed.
“That is separate.”
“It never is.”
I left.
At Teresa’s house, both babies were asleep.
I sat between their bassinets and watched their chests rise.
At 5:06 p.m., Naomi called.
“They found Helen.”
I stood.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief nearly buckled my knees.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s dehydrated. Bruised. Angry.”
That sounded promising.
“Victor?”
“Gone.”
“Of course.”
“Mara, Helen had the ledger.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does it say?”
Naomi was silent.
“Naomi?”
“The 1989 twins.”
“Yes?”
“One adoption was sealed under a false surname.”
“What surname?”
Another pause.
“Cross.”
My eyes opened.
“Sienna?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Her father.”
I sat slowly.
“Owen Cross is Eleanor’s son?”
“Yes.”
Which meant Sienna was Eleanor’s granddaughter.
Which meant Sienna had been sleeping with Julian.
Her own uncle or half uncle, depending on the truth.
I felt sick.
Naomi continued.
“And the second twin?”
“The one listed as stillborn?”
“Yes.”
“Not stillborn.”
“Who is he?”
Helen’s voice came faintly in the background.
Naomi repeated what she said.
“The second twin was taken by Rebecca Hale.”
Gabriel’s mother.
I stood again.
“Gabriel?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Naomi’s next words turned every assumption inside out.
“Victor Vance.”
I couldn’t speak.
Naomi said, “Mara, Victor isn’t Eleanor’s husband by bloodline only.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Victor is one of Eleanor’s sons.”
My stomach dropped.
“That’s impossible.”
“It would mean the marriage was false, or the ledger is false, or Victor’s identity is false.”
Then Helen came onto the phone.
Her voice was weak but clear.
“The man you know as Victor Vance was not born Victor Vance.”
I gripped the table.
May you like
“Who was he?”
Helen whispered, “That is the question Beatrice died trying to answer.”
