Chapter 5 - The Anonymous Warning
Aurelian looked at the message again.
For a moment, the words seemed detached from meaning. Then Leontine reached for the phone, but Aurelian gently held it out of reach.
“Don’t,” he said.
“I wasn’t going to—”
“You were.”
Her hand fell to her side.
“I don’t know who sent it.”
“But someone knows about the file.”
“And someone knows we found the first one.”
Aurelian studied the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but beneath it appeared a small clinic symbol. The message had come through a secure medical-messaging service, the kind used by fertility practices and private physicians.
He tapped the number.
No name appeared.
Another message arrived.
The second file concerns Seraphina’s consent. Read it before you make any decision.
Leontine drew in a shaky breath.
“Maybe it’s the clinic.”
“Then why not identify themselves?”
“Perhaps they’re afraid.”
“Of what?”
She looked at the letter still lying open on the desk.
“Of what happened to her wishes.”
Aurelian set the phone down, but he did not release it.
“We’re going to the clinic.”
Leontine’s eyes widened.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“I have an appointment tomorrow.”
“I’m not waiting until tomorrow.”
“Aurelian, if this is a confidential file—”
“It concerns me, our marriage, and a child who may be born because someone forged my consent. I think I’m entitled to answers.”
She flinched at the word forged.
“I never asked anyone to forge anything.”
“I know.”
The anger in his voice softened, though the hurt remained.
“I’m not accusing you of doing that,” he continued. “But I need to understand who made these decisions and why.”
Leontine nodded slowly.
“Then I’m coming with you.”
He looked toward the sunroom.
“What about Maelis?”
“I’ll call Mrs. Alvarez. She can stay with her.”
Mrs. Alvarez had worked for Aurelian’s family for nearly fifteen years. She lived in a guesthouse behind the mansion and treated Maelis with the affectionate patience of a grandmother. When Leontine called, she came inside immediately.
Aurelian crouched beside Maelis, who was now tucking her dolls into a toy stroller.
“Daddy has to go with Mommy for a little while,” he told her. “Mrs. Alvarez will stay with you.”
“Are you going to the doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Is Mommy’s baby okay?”
Leontine’s expression tightened, but Aurelian answered gently.
“We’re going to make sure everyone is okay.”
Maelis considered this, then held up the doll wrapped in a red blanket.
“She needs you to come back.”
“I will.”
“And Mommy too.”
Leontine knelt beside them.
“We’ll both come back.”
Maelis leaned forward and hugged her. Leontine closed her eyes as she held the child, breathing in the scent of strawberry shampoo and warm cotton.
Aurelian watched them and felt the distance between them grow more complicated.
He could not simply walk away from Leontine. He could not pretend nothing had happened, either.
Trust did not vanish in one dramatic instant. Sometimes it became a series of small absences—a missing conversation, an unanswered question, a decision made in another room. Rebuilding it would require more than an apology.
It would require the truth.
The drive to Santa Monica passed beneath a sky turning gold at the edges. Leontine sat beside him in silence, one hand resting over her stomach.
Aurelian kept both hands on the steering wheel.
After several minutes, she said, “I’m sorry.”
He did not look at her.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” Her voice trembled. “You know I regret keeping the pregnancy from you. But I’m sorry for every time I let you believe something that wasn’t true.”
He glanced at her.
“There were so many opportunities.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me after the transfer?”
“I tried.”
“You said that before.”
“Because it’s true.” She looked through the window at the passing houses. “The first time, I wrote you a letter. I put it in your briefcase. Then I found it on the kitchen counter after the housekeeper had cleaned the study. I thought you had read it and chosen not to say anything.”
“I never saw it.”
“I know that now.”
“The second time?”
“I came to your office.”
Aurelian frowned.
“When?”
“The afternoon before the transfer. Your assistant told me you were in a meeting. I waited nearly an hour, but your mother arrived and asked me to come with her. She said she had already spoken to you.”
Aurelian’s jaw tightened.
“What did she say?”
“That you were afraid, but willing to support me if I truly wanted to help Seraphina.”
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
The car fell quiet again.
At last, Leontine whispered, “Your mother seemed so certain. She had all the answers. She knew the doctors, the legal process, the medication schedule. She told me Seraphina had wanted me to do this.”
“Did she show you anything?”
“Letters. Notes. Emails.”
“From Seraphina?”
“Some were copies.”
Aurelian’s eyes narrowed.
May you like
“Copies of what?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
