Sebastian learned that the babies were gone at six fourteen in the morning.

I know because Valeria showed me the security report later.

At six twelve, the night nurse entered neonatal care.

At six thirteen, she realized all four incubators were empty.

At six fourteen, the hospital called Sebastian.

He answered on the first ring.

—What?

The nurse could barely speak.

—Mr. Foster… the children are missing.

Silence.

Then:

—What do you mean, missing?

—They aren’t here.

Sebastian was already standing.

Clara woke beside him in the hotel suite.

—What happened?

He didn’t answer her.

Instead, he grabbed his coat.

—Lock down the hospital.

The nurse hesitated.

—Sir, security is already reviewing—

—Nobody leaves.

His voice shook.

—Nobody.

Ten minutes later, Sebastian stormed through the neonatal ward with two bodyguards and the head of hospital administration behind him.

Four empty incubators waited under cold blue lights.

He stopped in the doorway.

For the first time in his life, Sebastian Foster had no order powerful enough to change what was in front of him.

—Where is Elena?

The hospital administrator looked confused.

—Mrs. Foster was discharged overnight.

Sebastian turned slowly.

—Discharged?

—Her paperwork was completed shortly after midnight.

—Who authorized that?

The administrator checked the tablet.

—She did.

Sebastian’s face changed.

Then he remembered the check.

The divorce papers.

My silence.

The way I had signed without begging.

He took out his phone.

My number was disconnected.

He called again.

Nothing.

Then Valeria.

Also disconnected.

His jaw tightened.

Clara arrived twenty minutes later, still wearing yesterday’s makeup beneath sunglasses.

—Sebastian.

He turned toward her.

—Go home.

She froze.

—What?

—Go.

—I’m worried about you.

—I said go home.

That was the first time he had ever spoken to Clara with the same coldness he reserved for everyone else.

She looked wounded.

But Sebastian wasn’t watching her anymore.

He was staring at the empty incubators.

—She took all four.

His voice sounded almost disbelieving.

The hospital administrator cleared his throat.

—Mr. Foster, security believes Mrs. Morris may have had assistance.

Sebastian turned.

—Show me.

They entered the monitoring room.

Several cameras had mysteriously gone offline for less than four minutes.

Exactly enough time.

One hallway camera captured a cleaning cart.

Another showed a woman in a mask walking toward the emergency exit.

Sebastian leaned closer to the screen.

He recognized the way I walked immediately.

Even injured.

Even hidden beneath a uniform.

—Elena.

His hand tightened around the chair.

Then he laughed.

A short, dark sound.

—She planned this.

The administrator didn’t respond.

Sebastian pulled out his phone.

—Find every vehicle that left the parking lot between midnight and one.

His assistant hesitated.

—Sir, if Mrs. Morris left with the children—

—They are Foster heirs.

—They’re also her children.

Sebastian looked at him.

The assistant immediately lowered his eyes.

That sentence stayed with Sebastian anyway.

Her children.

He had never thought of it that way.

By noon, the Foster mansion was in chaos.

His mother, Victoria Foster, was screaming at lawyers.

—How could she steal our grandchildren?

The family attorney placed both hands on the table.

—Mrs. Foster, we should be careful with that word.

—What word?

—Steal.

Victoria glared at him.

—She removed four heirs from our custody.

The attorney looked toward Sebastian.

—Did Elena ever sign over parental rights?

Silence.

Sebastian frowned.

—The divorce agreement—

—Does not terminate parental rights.

The room froze.

Victoria grabbed the document.

—Then what exactly did she sign?

—Financial separation.

—Waiver of claims against certain Foster holdings.

—Confirmation of the payment she received.

The attorney turned another page.

—Nothing concerning permanent custody.

Sebastian’s face slowly hardened.

He grabbed the papers.

Read them himself.

Once.

Twice.

Then he understood.

I had taken his five hundred million.

Signed the divorce.

And never surrendered a single legal right to my children.

Victoria whispered:

—You idiot.

Sebastian looked at her.

—What?

—You gave her enough money to disappear.

The insult landed because it was true.

That afternoon, an even worse problem appeared.

The hospital had begun an internal investigation.

Not into me.

Into the Foster family’s instructions concerning the newborns.

The doctors had recorded repeated requests from Victoria demanding that the babies be separated from me immediately after birth.

There were notes.

Messages.

Orders sent through Sebastian’s assistant.

One especially ugly message from Victoria had been saved:

“Once Elena signs, limit her access. Attachment will only make the transition difficult.”

The family attorney read it and went pale.

—If this becomes part of a custody proceeding, it will hurt you badly.

Sebastian stared at his mother.

—You sent that?

Victoria looked away.

—I was protecting the family.

—From their mother?

—From a woman who married you for money.

Sebastian laughed bitterly.

—She just walked away with five hundred million and four babies while barely able to stand.

He looked around the mansion.

—Does that sound like a woman who stayed because she needed us?

Nobody answered.

Three days passed.

Then seven.

No trace.

The Foster family’s investigators found nothing.

My passport had not been used.

No flights under my name.

No hotel reservations.

No medical purchases connected to my identity.

I had disappeared completely.

On the tenth day, Sebastian received a package.

No return address.

Inside were four photographs.

Four babies sleeping peacefully.

Healthy.

Safe.

On the back of each photograph was a name.

Not Foster.

Morris.

Sebastian stared at them for a long time.

Then he found a letter underneath.

My handwriting.

“Sebastian,

You paid me to disappear.

I accepted.

But you never purchased my children.

If you want to see them again, you will do it through lawyers, courts and the rights you actually have.

Not the power you assumed you had.”

His hands began trembling.

Then he reached the final line.

“And before you accuse me of taking what belongs to you, ask your mother why the DNA reports were changed before you ever saw them.”

Sebastian stopped breathing.

He read the sentence again.

Then again.

He called his mother.

—What did Elena mean?

Victoria went silent.

—Mother.

—What DNA reports?

Still nothing.

Sebastian drove to the mansion personally.

He found Victoria in the study.

She looked smaller than usual.

Older.

Afraid.

He threw my letter onto her desk.

—Tell me.

Victoria stared at it.

Then finally whispered:

—One of the babies had an abnormal result.

Sebastian’s face changed.

—What abnormal result?

She closed her eyes.

—The paternity test.

He went completely still.

—Which child?

Victoria didn’t answer.

Sebastian slammed his hand onto the desk.

—Which one?

Her next words shattered the room.

—Not one.

She looked at him.

—All four.

Sebastian’s face drained of color.

—What are you saying?

Victoria’s voice dropped to almost nothing.

—According to the original report…

She swallowed.

—None of the four children were yours.

And suddenly, the man who thought he had lost four heirs realized he might never have had them in the first place.