Chapter 6 - Leo’s MotherFor four years Sophie had imagined many impossible things.
She imagined Leo laughing.
Leo walking.
Leo refusing vegetables.
Leo asking why the sky changed colors.
She imagined him pressing warm hands to her face in the morning and calling her Mommy with the careless certainty of a child who did not know he had once been begged to live.
But she had never imagined this.
Tell Leo’s mother the babies were switched.
The words did not enter her mind one at a time. They came as a flood, violent and blinding.
Dominic held her upright by both arms.
“Sophie.”
She heard him from far away.
“No,” she said.
Her voice was flat. Empty.
“Sophie, look at me.”
“No.”
Dr. Ellison appeared behind the guard, alarmed. “What happened?”
The guard repeated it.
The doctor went still.
Sophie saw it.
That was worse than shock. Shock would have meant the words were absurd. Dr. Ellison’s stillness meant they had landed somewhere possible.
“You know something,” Sophie whispered.
Dr. Ellison closed her eyes briefly.
Dominic’s voice was lethal.
“Doctor.”
Dr. Ellison looked at Sophie, not him.
“After Leo died, there were rumors.”
Sophie could not feel her hands.
“What rumors?”
“That Dr. Marlowe had been involved in unauthorized neonatal transfers. Private adoptions, hidden surrogacies, experimental procedures. Nothing proven. Nurses talked. Then nurses were fired. Records disappeared.”
Sophie stared at her.
“And no one told me?”
“I was a consulting physician. I didn’t have proof.”
“My son died.”
“I know.”
“No,” Sophie said, tears finally rising hot and furious. “You knew a rumor after my baby died and you did nothing?”
Dr. Ellison absorbed the accusation like she had expected it for years.
“I reported what I heard.”
“To whom?”
“Administration. Licensing board. Hospital legal.”
Sophie laughed once, broken.
“And they buried it.”
Dr. Ellison’s silence was answer enough.
Dominic stepped toward the doctor.
“Tell me everything.”
Dr. Ellison’s gaze shifted to him.
“I will, but not in a hallway.”
Dominic looked at his guard. “Secure a room.”
“Already did,” the guard said.
Sophie wiped her face hard with both hands.
“I’m going too.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You should sit.”
“If one more person tells me what I should do while talking about my child, I will lose my mind.”
No one argued.
They moved to a family consultation room with beige walls and a box of tissues placed precisely where terrible news liked to land. Sophie hated it immediately.
Dr. Ellison closed the door.
Dominic stood. Sophie sat because her legs had become unreliable. The attorney, whose name she learned was Gabriel Voss, entered with a laptop and three phones.
Dr. Ellison folded her hands.
“Four years ago, St. Agnes partnered with a private foundation for high-risk infant cardiac research. Officially it funded equipment and surgeries for families who couldn’t pay.”
Sophie’s mouth went dry.
“Leo’s surgery was covered by a foundation.”
“Yes.”
“What foundation?”
Dr. Ellison looked at Dominic.
“The Belladonna Trust.”
Dominic’s face changed.
Sophie noticed.
“What is that?”
“My wife’s family charity,” Dominic said.
Isabella.
Dead wife.
Hidden baby.
Private charity.
Dr. Marlowe.
The room tilted.
Dr. Ellison continued. “The foundation targeted desperate families with infants who had rare conditions. The care was real. Some children were helped. But there were whispers that Marlowe was collecting more than data.”
“Collecting babies,” Gabriel Voss said quietly.
Dr. Ellison did not deny it.
Sophie gripped the edge of the table.
“My son died.”
“Yes,” Dr. Ellison said gently. “That is what the records say.”
“The records lie.”
“Some records lie.”
Sophie stared at her.
The doctor took a breath. “I pulled what I could access after seeing Matteo’s scar. Leo’s file has inconsistencies. Timestamps missing. Medication entries duplicated. A transport order signed digitally by a nurse who had already clocked out.”
Sophie pressed one hand over her mouth.
Dominic’s voice was cold enough to freeze glass.
“Where was he transported?”
Dr. Ellison looked at Gabriel.
The attorney turned the laptop around.
A scanned line appeared on the screen.
Procedure Suite C — Foundation Wing.
Sophie shook her head.
“There was no Foundation Wing.”
“There was,” Dr. Ellison said. “Restricted access. Donor-funded. Mostly unused now.”
Dominic leaned closer to the laptop.
“Who authorized the transport?”
Gabriel clicked once.
A signature opened.
Isabella Belladonna Moretti.
Sophie stared at the name.
“That’s impossible. She didn’t know me.”
Dominic said nothing.
But his face had turned to stone.
Dr. Ellison’s voice softened. “The signature may have been foundation authorization, not personal presence.”
“Do not soften it,” Sophie snapped. “Do not wrap poison in velvet. What happened to my baby?”
No one answered.
The silence screamed.
Gabriel’s phone buzzed. He checked it, then looked at Dominic.
“The nurse’s name is Carla Reyes. She worked under Marlowe at St. Agnes, then privately for Isabella. She was found in a motel outside Joliet. Overdose staged. Paramedics got her back.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“Can she talk?”
“Not yet.”
Sophie stood.
“I want to see her.”
Dominic shook his head. “No.”
Sophie turned on him.
“Yes.”
“She is a witness people tried to kill. If she wakes up, the room will be dangerous.”
“My whole life has been dangerous. I just didn’t know who was holding the knife.”
Dominic stepped closer. “You think grief makes you bulletproof.”
“No,” Sophie said. “It makes me done asking permission.”
The room went silent.
Dominic stared at her.
Then, slowly, he nodded once.
“You see her when my men clear the floor.”
“I don’t want your men deciding—”
“My men are the reason anyone connected to this will still have a tongue when police arrive.”
“Police?” Sophie asked.
Dominic smiled without warmth. “Eventually.”
Dr. Ellison looked between them. “There is another issue.”
Sophie closed her eyes. “Of course there is.”
“Matteo needs a full surgical review. If his anatomy resembles Leo’s, we need genetic testing. We also need to know whether he is biologically related to either of you.”
Either of you.
Sophie opened her eyes.
Dominic became very still.
“No,” Sophie whispered.
Dr. Ellison looked pained.
“I’m not saying he is your son.”
“He’s six weeks old.”
“I know.”
“Leo would be four.”
“I know.”
“Then why would you test me?”
“Because if babies were switched four years ago, Leo may not have died when you were told. And if Marlowe continued using related donor material, embryos, or falsified parentage records, we need to establish every connection.”
Sophie felt the last wall inside her crack.
“Are you saying my son might be alive?”
Dr. Ellison’s eyes filled with sorrow.
“I am saying I no longer trust the document that says he died.”
The room became soundless.
Sophie did not cry this time.
Hope was too dangerous for tears.
Dominic looked at her as if he understood that. As if somewhere behind his power and violence, he too had learned that hope could be a weapon when placed in the wrong hands.
Gabriel closed the laptop.
“I can obtain emergency orders for records by morning.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Tonight.”
“The courts are closed.”
Dominic’s smile returned.
“Then wake someone who owes me.”
Sophie looked at him sharply.
“No crimes.”
Everyone stared at her.
She lifted her chin.
“If my son is alive, I want him found clean. I want the truth to survive a courtroom. I want whoever did this exposed, not just buried where your enemies go.”
Dominic’s eyes locked on hers.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he turned to Gabriel.
“Do it clean.”
Gabriel nodded.
Sophie sat down again before her legs betrayed her.
Behind the wall, somewhere down the hallway, Matteo began crying.
Not screaming now.
Crying like a baby who expected someone to come.
Sophie rose.
May you like
Dominic did too.
This time, they walked together.
Related Stories
