Olivia didn’t remember running back to the hospital.

One moment she was standing in the boarding house lobby staring at Ethan.

The next, she was pushing through the emergency entrance while Ethan followed several steps behind her.

—Where is my son?

The nurse immediately stood.

—Mrs. Bennett, please calm down. Leo is stable now.

—You said he had a reaction.

—His fever suddenly increased and his blood pressure dropped, but the doctors controlled it.

Olivia pressed a hand against her chest.

Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath.

—Can I see him?

—Through the glass.

They hurried toward the isolation ward.

Leo looked impossibly small beneath the white blankets.

A nurse sat beside him.

His eyes were open.

And he was clutching something against his chest.

Olivia moved closer to the glass.

It was the little wooden airplane Ethan had given him that afternoon.

She froze.

Ethan noticed it too.

For once, he had no sarcastic comment.

Leo saw them.

His face immediately brightened.

He lifted one hand toward Olivia.

Then his gaze shifted to Ethan.

His lips moved.

Olivia couldn’t hear him through the glass.

But she understood the word.

Daddy.

Ethan lowered his head.

Olivia turned away.

—Don’t misunderstand him.

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

—I didn’t say anything.

—He’s sick. He’s scared. He would cling to anyone who made him feel safe.

—I know.

That answer surprised her.

Before she could respond, the hematologist approached carrying several documents.

—Mr. Cross, I need to speak with you privately.

Olivia immediately stepped forward.

—Anything involving Leo involves me.

The doctor hesitated.

Ethan looked at her.

—She stays.

They entered a consultation room.

The doctor placed two genetic reports on the desk.

—The compatibility testing revealed something we weren’t expecting.

He pointed to several markers.

—Leo’s condition appears to have a hereditary component associated with a rare genetic mutation.

Olivia swallowed.

—From Ethan?

—Most likely.

Ethan leaned back.

—You said I could develop the same disease.

—Possibly. But there’s something else.

The doctor looked directly at him.

—According to your medical history, you were hospitalized repeatedly as a child.

Ethan’s expression changed.

Olivia turned toward him.

—You knew?

—No.

—You were hospitalized and didn’t know why?

Ethan didn’t answer.

The doctor continued.

—Your records are incomplete. Several pages appear to have been sealed by court order almost twenty years ago.

Silence.

Olivia stared at Ethan.

—Court order?

His face had become unreadable.

The doctor slid another sheet toward him.

—There’s also an inconsistency in your blood records.

Ethan picked it up.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then:

—This blood type isn’t mine.

—Exactly.

Olivia frowned.

—What does that mean?

The doctor folded his hands.

—It means either someone made a serious clerical mistake when Mr. Cross was young…

He paused.

—Or some of the medical records filed under Ethan Cross belong to another person.

Olivia felt cold.

Ethan stood abruptly.

—Who accessed these records?

—Our laboratory requested them automatically after the genetic anomaly appeared.

—Who sent them?

—St. Matthew’s Children’s Hospital.

Ethan’s chair scraped backward.

Olivia watched him.

For the first time since she had known him, Ethan Cross looked frightened.

Not surprised.

Frightened.

—Ethan.

He ignored her.

He took out his phone and called someone.

—Find everything St. Matthew’s has under my name. Admissions, surgeries, guardians, billing records. Everything.

A voice answered.

Ethan’s expression hardened.

—And don’t tell my father.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed.

His father?

Ethan hung up.

—What aren’t you telling me?

—Nothing that helps Leo tonight.

—Stop doing that.

—Doing what?

—Deciding what I’m allowed to know.

She stepped closer.

—Four years ago, you told me you remembered almost nothing about that hotel night. Then you disappeared. When I found you again and told you I was pregnant, you accused me of lying.

Her voice trembled.

—Now our son is lying behind glass because of something in your blood, and suddenly there are sealed medical records and you are ordering people not to tell your father.

Ethan stared at her.

—What happened to you?

His face became completely still.

Then his phone rang.

He checked the screen.

Unknown number.

He answered.

No one spoke at first.

Then a man’s voice said:

—If the hospital found the old records, leave them alone.

Ethan’s eyes darkened.

—Who is this?

—Someone who remembers St. Matthew’s.

The call ended.

Olivia stared at him.

—Who was that?

—I don’t know.

—You’re lying.

—This time I’m not.

Before she could continue, an alarm sounded from the isolation room.

Olivia ran.

Doctors surrounded Leo’s bed.

She hit the glass with both palms.

—Leo!

Ethan grabbed her shoulders before she could reach the door.

—You can’t go inside.

—Let me go!

—Olivia!

She struggled until a doctor appeared.

—His condition is stable again, but we cannot delay much longer. We need to proceed with the transplant protocol.

Olivia stopped fighting.

The doctor looked at Ethan.

—That means we need to prepare the donor immediately.

Ethan released her.

—Do whatever you need.

The doctor nodded.

—There are risks for you because of the anomaly we discovered.

—I don’t care.

—Mr. Cross—

—I said do it.

Olivia stared at him.

—You should at least understand what you’re agreeing to.

Ethan looked through the glass at Leo.

—If there’s even a chance it saves him, there is nothing to understand.

Something inside Olivia cracked.

For four years, she had imagined this man as incapable of caring about anyone but himself.

She still couldn’t forgive him.

She still didn’t trust him.

But she could no longer pretend he felt nothing.

Two hours later, Ethan was admitted for additional testing.

Olivia remained outside Leo’s room.

Near midnight, a nurse approached carrying a small backpack.

—Leo asked us to give you this.

Inside were pajamas, crayons and a notebook.

Olivia opened it.

Most pages contained childish drawings.

A yellow house.

A dog.

Olivia holding Leo’s hand.

Then she reached the final page.

Three figures stood together.

Olivia.

Leo.

And a tall man in black.

Above him, Leo had drawn one crooked word.

DAD.

Olivia covered her mouth.

—He drew that this afternoon.

She turned.

Ethan stood behind her wearing a hospital gown beneath an open robe.

His usual confidence was gone.

—How do you know?

—He showed me when you went to speak with the nurse.

Olivia closed the notebook.

—Why didn’t you tell me?

—Because you would have thrown it away.

—No, I wouldn’t.

—You wanted to throw me away.

She looked up sharply.

Ethan gave a tired smile.

—I probably deserved that.

For once, Olivia had no answer.

He sat opposite her.

—When you told me you were pregnant, I genuinely believed the child couldn’t be mine.

—You didn’t even ask for a test.

—I know.

—You called me a liar.

—I know.

—You left me alone.

His smile disappeared.

—I know.

Olivia’s eyes burned.

—Then don’t sit here acting like admitting it changes anything.

—It doesn’t.

His answer stopped her.

Ethan leaned forward.

—But if Leo survives this, I want the chance to spend the rest of my life proving that I can do better.

Olivia looked away.

—And if I say no?

—Then I’ll respect it.

She laughed bitterly.

—Ethan Cross respecting someone’s decision? That’s new.

—Prison taught me a few things.

There it was again.

Prison.

Olivia finally asked:

—Why were you there?

Ethan remained silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then he said:

—I attacked the man I believed killed my younger brother.

Olivia stared at him.

—You had a brother?

—His name was Nathan.

Ethan looked toward the empty hallway.

—We were twins.

Olivia’s heart seemed to stop.

—Twins?

—Identical.

Suddenly the doctor’s words returned.

Medical records belonging to another person.

Different blood types.

Sealed files.

Olivia slowly stood.

—Ethan…

He understood immediately.

—No.

—The doctor said some records under your name might belong to someone else.

—Nathan died when we were seventeen.

—Are you sure?

Ethan’s expression hardened.

—I saw his coffin.

—That’s not what I asked.

He stood.

Before either could speak again, Ethan’s phone vibrated.

A message had arrived from the investigator he had called earlier.

One photograph.

Ethan opened it.

His face drained of color.

Olivia moved beside him.

The photograph showed two teenage boys standing outside St. Matthew’s Children’s Hospital.

Same height.

Same face.

Ethan and Nathan.

But beneath the photograph was a handwritten note.

PATIENT CROSS, NATHAN.

GENETIC TREATMENT SUCCESSFUL.

TRANSFER AUTHORIZED.

Date:

Three months after Nathan’s supposed death.

Olivia felt the hallway tilt beneath her.

—That’s impossible.

Ethan enlarged the image.

Another message appeared.

“I found a discharge record too.”

Then another.

“Someone changed Nathan Cross’s identity after the transfer.”

Ethan immediately called.

—Changed it to what?

The investigator hesitated.

—I’m still tracing it.

—Find him.

—Ethan, there’s something worse.

—What?

—Your father signed the transfer.

Ethan went completely silent.

Olivia felt goosebumps rise along her arms.

His father had known.

Whatever happened to Nathan had not been an accident.

Before Ethan could ask another question, someone called his name.

A nurse was running toward them.

—Mr. Cross, we need you downstairs immediately.

—Why?

—Your final donor screening produced an unusual result.

Olivia grabbed the notebook tighter.

—What now?

The nurse looked between them.

—The laboratory found traces of a medication in Mr. Cross’s archived blood sample from four years ago.

Ethan frowned.

—What archived sample?

—The blood sample taken the morning after the hotel incident.

Olivia stopped breathing.

Ethan stared at the nurse.

—I was never told a blood sample was taken.

The nurse swallowed.

—According to the record, you were admitted unconscious that morning.

Olivia’s knees weakened.

Her memory of that night had always begun with Ethan stumbling into the wrong room.

His confused eyes.

His strange behavior.

His insistence afterward that he remembered almost nothing.

For four years she had believed it was an excuse.

The nurse continued carefully.

—The toxicology notation indicates that Mr. Cross had a powerful sedative in his system.

Olivia stared at Ethan.

—You were drugged?

—I don’t know.

—Then who gave it to you?

Ethan didn’t answer.

But his expression said he was beginning to suspect someone.

They returned to the consultation room.

The doctor displayed the archived report.

—This wasn’t a normal therapeutic dose.

Ethan’s fingers curled against the table.

—Who ordered the test?

The doctor checked.

—A physician named Dr. Malcolm Reed.

Ethan’s face changed.

Olivia noticed immediately.

—You know him.

Ethan nodded once.

—He was my father’s private doctor.

The room became silent.

Olivia suddenly felt as if the past four years were rearranging themselves in front of her.

Nathan.

The hospital.

The false records.

Ethan’s father.

The hotel.

The drug.

Leo’s illness.

None of it looked separate anymore.

Ethan picked up his phone.

—I’m calling my father.

Olivia grabbed his wrist.

—No.

He looked at her.

—If he’s involved, warning him would be stupid.

Ethan stared at her hand on his wrist.

She quickly released him.

Then he smiled faintly.

—You’re finally starting to think like me.

—Don’t make me regret helping you.

—I make everyone regret helping me.

Before Olivia could answer, another voice came from the doorway.

—Unfortunately, that’s true.

Ethan froze.

An older man stood there.

Gray suit.

Silver hair.

Two security guards behind him.

Olivia had seen his face in newspapers.

Richard Cross.

Ethan’s father.

Richard’s eyes moved from Ethan to Olivia.

Then to the notebook in her hands.

—So that’s the child.

Ethan stepped between them.

—Why are you here?

Richard ignored him.

—He has your eyes.

—Answer me.

Richard sighed.

—I heard you were about to donate stem cells.

—Who told you?

—Ethan, half this hospital exists because of our family’s donations.

Olivia’s stomach tightened.

Richard looked at her.

—Ms. Bennett, I think you and I should speak privately.

—Anything you say to her, you say in front of me.

Richard smiled.

—Still pretending to be her protector?

Ethan took one step forward.

—What happened to Nathan?

The smile vanished.

For one second, Richard Cross looked genuinely stunned.

Then he recovered.

—Your brother is dead.

—Then explain a medical discharge three months after his funeral.

Richard said nothing.

That silence was enough.

Ethan’s voice became colder.

—You knew.

Richard looked toward the guards.

—You need to prepare for the procedure. This is not the time.

—You knew he was alive.

—I said enough.

Ethan grabbed his father’s jacket.

The guards immediately stepped forward.

Olivia moved between them.

—Stop!

Ethan released him.

Richard straightened his collar.

Then he looked directly at Olivia.

—You want your son to survive?

Olivia’s blood turned cold.

—What kind of question is that?

—Then make Ethan stop digging.

Ethan stared at his father.

—Are you threatening a sick child?

—I’m trying to prevent another tragedy.

—Another?

Richard realized his mistake.

Too late.

Olivia whispered:

—What happened to Nathan?

Richard looked at her for several seconds.

Then at Ethan.

—Nathan had the same mutation Leo has.

Ethan went pale.

—What?

—He became sick when you were children. The experimental treatment saved him, but there were complications.

—Why don’t I remember any of this?

Richard’s expression tightened.

—Because afterward, we made sure you wouldn’t.

Ethan looked as though someone had struck him.

Olivia couldn’t speak.

Richard continued:

—Nathan became dangerous. Unstable. Obsessed with you. He believed you had stolen his life.

—Where is he?

Richard didn’t answer.

Ethan shouted:

—WHERE IS MY BROTHER?

The door opened.

A nurse rushed inside.

—Please! Mr. Cross, we need to begin donor preparation now.

Ethan didn’t move.

Richard lowered his voice.

—Save your son first.

For the first time, he emphasized the word your.

—Then I’ll tell you everything.

Ethan stared at him with pure hatred.

But behind the glass down the hallway, Leo was waiting.

So Ethan turned away from his father.

—Prepare me.

As the nurses led him toward the procedure wing, Leo was briefly wheeled past in a sealed transport bed.

His tiny hand lifted.

Ethan stopped.

Leo pressed his palm against the transparent barrier.

Ethan placed his own hand against the other side.

—Daddy…

The word was barely audible.

But Ethan heard it.

His eyes reddened.

—I’m here, little man.

Olivia stood several feet away, unable to move.

Leo smiled weakly.

Then the nurses took him away.

Ethan looked back at Olivia.

—Whatever happens, don’t let my father near him.

—Ethan—

—Promise me.

She nodded.

—I promise.

The doors closed behind him.

Richard Cross had disappeared.

Olivia immediately reached for her phone.

Then she noticed something on the chair where Richard had been sitting.

A small envelope.

Her name was written across it.

OLIVIA BENNETT.

Her hands trembled as she opened it.

Inside was a photograph from four years earlier.

The hotel.

The exact hotel where everything had begun.

The timestamp showed 11:42 p.m.

A man was entering the hallway leading toward Olivia’s room.

Same height as Ethan.

Same face as Ethan.

But Olivia immediately noticed one difference.

Ethan had a thin scar beside his right eyebrow.

The man in the photograph didn’t.

On the back, someone had written five words:

ETHAN WASN’T THE FIRST ONE THERE.

Olivia stared at the photograph.

Her blood ran cold.

Then her phone rang.

Unknown number.

She answered slowly.

—Hello?

A man’s voice came through.

It sounded so much like Ethan that Olivia nearly dropped the phone.

—Olivia Bennett?

She couldn’t answer.

The stranger laughed softly.

—My brother is about to risk his life for your son, isn’t he?

Olivia looked toward the doors where Ethan had disappeared.

—Who are you?

There was a pause.

Then the man said:

—You already know.

Olivia’s fingers tightened around the photograph.

—Nathan?

Silence.

Then:

—If you want to know what really happened in that hotel four years ago, don’t believe a word Richard tells you.

Olivia’s heart pounded.

—Where are you?

—Closer than you think.

The call disconnected.

At that exact moment, the operating-wing doors opened.

A doctor rushed toward Olivia.

His expression was serious.

—Mrs. Bennett, we have a problem.

Olivia stood.

—Is it Leo?

—No.

He looked toward the room where Ethan had been taken.

—It’s Mr. Cross.

The doctor handed her a new genetic report.

—We repeated the paternal analysis before starting the procedure because of the twin history.

Olivia stared at him.

—And?

The doctor hesitated.

—Ethan Cross is genetically compatible with Leo.

—I know that.

—But compatibility and paternity are not the same thing.

Olivia stopped breathing.

The doctor lowered his voice.

—The first test was interpreted before we knew Ethan had an identical twin.

Her eyes slowly dropped to the photograph in her hand.

The scarless man.

Nathan.

The hotel.

Four years ago.

Then the doctor said the words that shattered everything Olivia thought she knew.

—We can no longer confirm that Ethan is Leo’s biological father.

Her phone vibrated again.

One message.

Unknown number.

A photograph appeared.

It showed Leo asleep inside the hospital.

Taken only minutes earlier.

Under it were seven words:

“Now ask yourself who his father is.”