Chapter 7 - The Secret of the Blue Music Box
Aurelian showed it to the doctor.
Dr. Halden’s face drained of color.
“Who collected it?” Aurelian asked.
The doctor did not answer immediately.
Then he said, “Your mother.”
“Why?”
“She told us Seraphina had left the documents with her.”
“Did she bring them here?”
“She brought a sealed envelope. It contained the handwritten consent and several personal letters.”
“Where is that envelope now?”
Dr. Halden looked toward the gray folder.
“It was scanned, then returned to the person who delivered it.”
“To my mother?”
“Yes.”
Aurelian felt the pieces shift again.
“Did you see the original?”
“Briefly.”
“And?”
The doctor swallowed.
“I remember thinking the paper looked old. The ink on the consent form appeared fresh.”
Leontine stared at him.
“Why didn’t you report that?”
“Because Dr. Voss believed Seraphina had updated the document shortly before her death. I had no reason to challenge her.”
“You had reason,” Aurelian said.
The doctor accepted the rebuke with a small nod.
“Yes. I did.”
Outside, evening had settled over the city.
Aurelian and Leontine walked to the car without speaking. Before opening the passenger door, he stopped.
“Did your mother keep the original letters?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where does she live?”
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“She still has the house in Bel Air.”
“Then we’re going there.”
Leontine’s eyes widened.
“Tonight?”
“No. Not without thinking.”
He looked at the clinic, then at the road beyond it.
“We need an attorney first. We need to understand what we’re dealing with before we confront anyone.”
Leontine nodded.
For the first time since the message arrived, she appeared relieved.
“You’re not going to abandon the baby.”
Aurelian looked at her.
“I don’t know what role I’m supposed to have yet.”
“She’s your niece.”
“Biologically.”
“She may still become your daughter.”
He looked away.
The possibility frightened him—not because he felt nothing, but because he already felt too much.
When they returned home, Maelis was asleep in the sunroom, curled beneath a soft blanket beside her dolls. Mrs. Alvarez rose quietly from the nearby chair.
“She had her dinner,” she whispered. “Then she asked whether the baby was coming home.”
Leontine’s face softened.
Aurelian bent and kissed Maelis’s hair.
“She’s safe,” Mrs. Alvarez said. “Whatever is happening, remember that.”
The simple reminder steadied him.
After Mrs. Alvarez left, Aurelian and Leontine sat in the study. Neither reached for the documents immediately.
Finally, Leontine said, “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
He looked at her.
“Where would you go?”
“To my sister’s apartment. Somewhere quiet.”
“You’re pregnant and under medical care. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“That isn’t the same as forgiveness.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“I don’t expect forgiveness tonight.”
Aurelian looked toward the gray folder.
“Did you ever love me honestly?”
Her face changed as though the question had wounded her more deeply than any accusation.
“Yes.”
“Even while hiding this?”
“Yes.”
“Then why does it feel like our whole marriage was built on a version of you I never knew?”
“Because I was afraid that if you knew everything, you would choose differently.”
“I deserved that choice.”
“I know.”
He leaned back, exhausted.
“I don’t want to punish you.”
“I know.”
“But I can’t promise this will be repaired.”
“I know.”
Her acceptance was not passive. It was the first thing she had offered him that did not ask him to carry her fear.
Aurelian opened the gray folder again.
At the very bottom, beneath the copied email, he found a narrow strip of paper folded into quarters.
It had not been included in the inventory.
He unfolded it carefully.
The writing was Seraphina’s.
If Mother says I gave permission, ask her to show you the page I kept in the blue music box.
Aurelian read the sentence twice.
Leontine leaned closer.
“What blue music box?”
“Seraphina had one when we were children.”
“Where is it?”
He remembered.
After Seraphina’s death, his mother had taken possession of her personal belongings, saying she would sort through them when the grief became easier.
Aurelian had never asked what happened to the music box.
His phone rang.
The caller ID displayed his mother’s name.
He and Leontine stared at the screen.
Aurelian answered but said nothing.
For several seconds, there was only the sound of breathing.
Then his mother spoke.
Her voice was calm, almost tender.
“I heard you went to the clinic.”
Aurelian looked at the note in his hand.
“Where is Seraphina’s blue music box?”
The silence on the other end lasted long enough to become an answer.
Then his mother whispered, “You found the second file.”
“No,” Aurelian said. “But I found a note telling me where to look.”
Another pause.
When his mother spoke again, the calm had vanished.
“Listen to me carefully. The music box does not contain what you think it does.”
“What does it contain?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From the truth?”
“From a truth Seraphina never wanted you to know.”
Leontine reached for his hand.
Aurelian held the phone tighter.
“What truth?”
His mother’s breath trembled.
“Seraphina was not the only person who knew about the embryos.”
“Who else knew?”
May you like
The answer came in a whisper.
“Your father.”
