Chapter 19
Declan’s face emptied.
My eyes closed.
The doctor continued.
“The genetic evidence indicates Alexander Warren is their biological father.”
I could not move.
Declan whispered:
“No.”
For months, I had imagined the most painful possibility was that Declan had abandoned his daughters.
Then the possibility changed.
He had never known.
Now something worse replaced both.
My children had been conceived through deception.
A man wearing his twin brother’s face had entered my marriage.
My home.
My bed.
I stood abruptly.
“I need air.”
Outside the clinic, I leaned against a brick wall.
Declan followed.
Neither of us spoke.
Then he punched the wall.
Once.
Blood appeared across his knuckles.
“Stop!”
He hit it again.
I grabbed his arm.
“Stop!”
He turned.
There were tears streaming down his face.
“I lost them twice.”
The sentence shattered me.
“They’re not yours,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“But you love them.”
“Yes.”
“They love you.”
“Yes.”
I started crying.
He did too.
And there we stood on a sidewalk outside a genetics clinic, grieving something biology had just taken away even though love had already made it real.
Then my phone rang.
Federal agent Marcus Hale.
“Ms.
Carter?”
“Yes?”
“We found Alexander.”
My spine stiffened.
“Where?”
A pause.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“He surrendered.”
Alexander walked into the Atlanta Federal Building at 9:03 that morning.
No weapons.
No attorney.
No attempt to escape.
He asked for Cassidy Carter.
Me.
I refused.
Then he said he would provide the location of Charles Hawthorne if I came.
Federal agents advised against it.
Declan absolutely forbade it.
Which naturally annoyed me.
“You don’t get to forbid anything.”
“This man impersonated me and assaulted you through fraud.”
“I’m aware.”
“He photographed the girls.”
“I’m aware.”
“He threatened them.”
“I’m aware.”
“He wants you in a room.”
“With twelve federal agents outside.”
“No.”
“Declan.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
He exhaled.
“Fine.
But I’m there.”
Alexander agreed.
That should have warned us.
I entered the interview room thirty minutes later.
Then forgot how to breathe.
Because looking at Alexander was like looking at Declan through damaged glass.
Same height.
Same eyes.
Same bone structure.
But where Declan carried tension in his shoulders, Alexander looked loose.
Almost amused.
His hair was longer.
A thin scar crossed his chin.
He smiled.
“Hello, Cassidy.”
My stomach turned.
“Don’t say my name.”
His smile disappeared.
Declan stood behind me.
Alexander looked at him.