Chapter 5 - bloodline on paper
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Marcus Blackwell did not scream. He did not slam his fists onto the mahogany desk. Instead, a terrifying, absolute calm descended over him. His dark eyes became hollow voids of lethal intent.
"Twins," Marcus said softly.
"Twins," Dr. Evans confirmed. "And based on the medical markers in Emma’s blood... she never received proper early childhood vaccines. Her growth was stunted by deliberate neglect. Marcus, whoever took that child didn't want to raise her. They wanted to hide her."
Marcus slowly turned his gaze toward the large bay window. Outside, the lights of Chicago flickered against the darkening sky like a million fragile candles. Down there, in the maze of alleys and high-rises, someone had dared to take his flesh and blood. Someone had stolen his daughter, forced her to live in squalor, dressed her in rags, and taped her shoes together, while he had ruled the city blind to her suffering.
"Marco," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a chill that made the hair on the back of Marco’s neck stand up.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Lock down this building. Put eight men on the perimeter, two on the roof, and place Sal and Dominic outside the girls' bedroom door. Nobody enters without my personal authorization."
"Understood."
"Then find Arthur Vance," Marcus said. "I don't care if you have to rip Florida apart brick by brick. Bring him to the warehouse on 47th Street by midnight."
"Consider it done," Marco said, already pulling his phone from his coat.
Marcus walked out of the study and down the carpeted hallway toward Lily’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, spilling warm amber light across the hardwood floor.
He stepped silently to the doorway and peered inside.
Lily had pulled out two dozen stuffed animals, arranging them in a circle on her plush white rug. Emma was sitting beside her, wearing a pair of Lily’s spare pajamas—soft pastel yellow flannel with little clouds printed on them. Emma had washed her face; her fair, rosy cheeks were clean, glowing softly in the lamp light, looking undeniably identical to Lily’s.
Lily picked up a plastic tea cup and handed it to Emma. "This one is peppermint tea. It makes your tummy feel warm."
Emma took the toy cup with both hands, pretending to take a sip, and for the first time since Marcus had found her under the willow tree, a tiny, tentative smile appeared on her lips.
"Lily?" Emma asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Are you my sister?"
Lily paused, her toy teapot hovering in midair. She looked at Emma’s face, then reached out and touched Emma’s soft chestnut hair.
"Daddy says family is who you love and protect," Lily said with the simple wisdom of a child. "You look like me, and you have my mommy’s eyes. So I think you are."
Emma bowed her head, clutching Lily’s hand tightly.
May you like
Standing in the shadows of the hallway, Marcus pressed his palm against the doorframe, fighting back the fierce, burning tears threatening to breach his hardened exterior. Seven years of stolen time. Seven years of cold, lonely nights this little girl had endured while he lived in a fortress of gold.
He vowed, right then and there, that every single person responsible for tearing his family apart would beg for the mercy he was never going to give them.
