Chapter 8: The Ledger
The second gunshot hadn't stopped ringing in my ears when the man began reading my name from the ledger.
“Denise Carter.””
Andre pushed me behind the stone planter beside the walkway.
“Stay down.””
Another bullet struck the mailbox.
Malik cried out.
“Dad!””
“I've got you,” Andre said.
He pulled Malik against him and crouched lower.
Across the street, the armed man held the ledger in one hand and a pistol in the other.
His partner stood beside the SUV, scanning the house.
My father remained in the open.
He looked at the gunman.
“You said you wanted the ledger.””
“I do.””
“Then you have it.””
The man smiled.
“Not all of it.””
My father stiffened.
“What do you mean?””
The gunman lifted several pages.
“These are copies.””
Andre looked at me.
“How many copies did you make?””
I swallowed.
“None.””
My father turned toward me.
“You're lying.””
“No.””
I had spent fifteen years hiding things.
But I had never copied the ledger.
Vanessa suddenly appeared from behind the doorway.
“Calvin.””
He looked at her.
“What?””
She was holding something.
A flash drive.
My heart dropped.
“You copied it,” I whispered.
Vanessa nodded.
“Three months ago.””
The gunman saw it.
“Give me that.””
Vanessa stepped back.
“No.””
The man raised his weapon.
Andre shouted.
“Don't!””
Vanessa looked directly at me.
“You need to leave.””
“Where?””
“Saint Mary's.””
Amara shouted from behind the SUV.
“No!””
Everyone turned.
She stepped into view.
“The clinic is compromised.””
Vanessa's face went pale.
“How do you know?””
“Because they were waiting for me.””
The gunman smiled.
“She's right.””
My father slowly turned toward him.
“You knew she was coming.””
“We knew everything.””
“Who sent you?””
The gunman ignored him.
His eyes stayed on Amara.
“Come with us.””
“No.””
“You don't have a choice.””
Amara looked at me.
“Mom.””
The word nearly broke me.
Not because she called me that.
Because she sounded afraid.
I stepped out from behind the planter.
“Don't take her.””
Andre grabbed my arm.
“Denise!””
I pulled free.
“I spent fifteen years losing her.””
I looked toward Amara.
“I won't let them take her now.””
The gunman raised his pistol.
“Then give me the drive.””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“No.””
A third shot exploded.
Vanessa fell.
“Vanessa!””
She hit the pavement.
I ran toward her.
Andre caught me around the waist.
“No!””
“She got shot!””
“I know!””
Vanessa was conscious.
Her hand pressed against her shoulder.
Blood seeped between her fingers.
“It's okay,” she gasped.
“It is not okay.””
She looked at me.
“The drive.””
I dropped beside her.
“I have it.””
Her eyes widened.
“No.””
She wasn't looking at me.
She was looking behind me.
I turned.
My father had picked up the drive.
“Calvin,” Vanessa whispered.
He looked at it.
Then at the gunman.
“You want this?””
“Yes.””
My father held it up.
“Then come get it.””
Andre stared at him.
“What are you doing?””
My father ignored him.
He stepped into the street.
The gunman raised his pistol.
My father kept walking.
“You've been taking orders from Richard for years.””
The man's expression changed.
“Richard is dead.””
“You believe that?””
The man said nothing.
My father stopped ten feet away.
“He faked his death.””
Andre went completely still.
“What?””
I turned toward him.
“Dad?””
My father looked at Andre.
“Your father is alive.””
Andre's face collapsed.
“That isn't possible.””
“It is.””
“You told me he died.””
“He needed you to believe he was gone.””
Andre shook his head.
“Why?””
“Because your father knew you would come looking.””
The gunman suddenly laughed.
“Enough.””
My father turned.
“You're still protecting him.””
“I have no reason to protect anyone.””
“Then give me the drive.””
My father looked down at the device.
Then he did something none of us expected.
He threw it into the storm drain.
The gunman lunged.
“Get it!””
His partner ran toward the curb.
Andre grabbed Malik.
“Now!””
We ran.
I didn't know where we were going.
Only that staying meant dying.
We crossed the backyard and climbed the low fence behind our house.
Amara followed.
Vanessa was left with my father.
I didn't want to leave either of them.
But Andre dragged me forward.
We reached the alley behind the neighboring houses.
Malik was breathing hard.
“Where are we going?””
“Keep moving,” Andre said.
Amara stopped.
“There.””
She pointed toward an old garage.
“Inside.””
We squeezed through the half-open door.
It smelled like oil and dust.
Andre locked it.
Nobody spoke.
For several seconds, all we heard was our breathing.
Then Malik said quietly, “Dad?””
Andre looked at him.
“Are you really not my father?””
The question silenced everyone.
Andre's face crumpled.
He crouched in front of Malik.
“I don't know what the DNA will say.””
“But?””
“But nothing changes how I feel about you.””
Malik's eyes filled.
“You raised me.””
“Yes.””
“You taught me how to ride a bike.””
“Yes.””
“You came to every game.””
“Yes.””
“You're my dad.””
Andre put both hands on his son's shoulders.
“Yes.””
Malik hugged him.
Andre closed his eyes.
I turned away.
Amara was watching them.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
“I wish I had that.””
I looked at her.
“You still can.””
She shook her head.
“You don't know what happened after I was taken.””
“Tell me.””
“I was moved six times.””
“Why?””
“To keep people from finding me.””
“Who moved you?””
“Vanessa.””
My chest tightened.
“She was protecting you?””
“She thought she was.””
“What changed?””
“Nothing.””
Amara wiped her face.
“Until I turned sixteen.””
“What happened then?””
“They came for me.””
“Who?””
“The men who were buying records.””
My stomach twisted.
“They wanted your DNA.””
“Yes.””
“Did they get it?””
“Some of it.””
“And that's why they need the ledger.””
She nodded.
“The ledger has a list of every child involved.””
“And the buyers?””
“And the parents.””
“And payments.””
She looked at me.
“Everything.””
Andre stood.
“Then why does it list Denise as a debtor?””
Amara hesitated.
“Because the money wasn't yours.””
I frowned.
“I earned it.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“Those deposits were part of the agreement.””
“What agreement?””
“The one your father made with Richard.””
My blood ran cold.
“What agreement?””
Amara took the photograph from her coat.
She flipped it over.
There was writing on the back.
A date.
Then a series of initials.
“D.C.””
“Denise Carter,” Andre said.
Amara nodded.
“Your name wasn't on the contract as a mother.””
She looked at me.
“It was on there as collateral.””
I couldn't breathe.
“Collateral for what?””
“The debt.””
Andre stepped closer.
“What debt?””
“Richard owed your father.””
He stared.
“For what?””
“His company.””
Andre shook his head.
“My father didn't own anything.””
“He did.””
“Why would he owe Calvin?””
“Because Calvin helped him build it.””
“What company?””
Amara handed him the photograph.
“Carter Biomedical.””
Andre went pale.
“That company was dissolved before I was born.””
“On paper.””
He stared at her.
“What happened to the money?””
“Offshore accounts.””
“What does that have to do with Malik?””
Amara looked at me.
“Everything.””
She reached into her coat again.
This time she pulled out a folded medical report.
I recognized the logo immediately.
The fertility clinic.
My father's clinic.
She opened it.
“This is the original embryo transfer report.””
I stared at the page.
My name.
Evelyn's name.
Richard's name.
And beneath them:
*Embryo 17B — successful transfer.*
I looked at Andre.
“What?””
He read the page.
Then his eyes stopped.
“17B.””
Amara nodded.
“There were two embryos.””
My throat tightened.
“One for each child.””
Andre looked between us.
“So Malik was—”
“Yes.””
Amara pointed to the next line.
“And I was 17A.””
I stared at the report.
Then I saw something else.
A handwritten notation.
*Both viable.*
I felt dizzy.
“That means…”
“Both were always meant to survive,” Amara said.
My eyes filled.
“But the hospital told me she was dead.””
“They were told to.””
“By my father?””
“Yes.””
“And Richard?””
“Yes.””
“Why separate us?””
Amara took a breath.
“Because Richard only wanted one child connected to the Carter family.””
Andre's face hardened.
“Why?””
Amara looked at him.
“Because one child could inherit.””
Silence.
I frowned.
“Inherit what?””
She slid another page across the table.
A trust agreement.
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My hands began to shake.
“The trust beneficiary…”
Andre took the paper.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then he whispered:
“Malik.””
Amara nodded.
“That was the plan.””
I stared at my son.
“What does he inherit?””
“A controlling interest.””
“In what?””
“Carter Biomedical.””
Andre looked up.
“But the company doesn't exist.””
“Not publicly.””
Amara pointed to the final page.
“It was transferred into a private holding company.””
My eyes scanned the signature lines.
One belonged to Richard.
One belonged to my father.
And the third belonged to someone neither of us expected.
Andre whispered the name.
“Vanessa.””
I looked toward the garage door.
“You said she was only eighteen.””
“She was.””
“Then how could she sign?””
Amara's expression changed.
“She didn't sign as Vanessa.””
A slow chill moved through me.
“What name did she use?””
Amara opened the final page.
Under the signature was a legal name.
*Evelyn Cole.*
I stared.
Vanessa Cole.
Evelyn Cole.
For fifteen years, I'd assumed they were two different people.
Amara looked at me.
“They're not.””
The garage door suddenly rattled.
Everyone froze.
A man's voice came from outside.
“And now you know.””
Andre moved toward the door.
“Who's there?””
No answer.
Then a second voice.
Older.
Calmer.
One I had spent fifteen years trying to forget.
My father's voice came through the metal.
“Open the door, Denise.””
Amara whispered, “That's not your father.””
I turned toward her.
“What?””
She shook her head.
“It's Richard.””
The door handle began to move.
And on the other side of the garage, the man I had buried eight years ago said my name again.
“Denise.””
May you like
Then he added the one thing that made Andre step backward in horror.
“Tell my son why you chose him instead of me.””