Chapter 4 - Sebastian Goes Home for the Truth
Sebastian did not call me that night.
He called at 6:12 the next morning.
I answered because I had already been awake for an hour packing lunches.
“Did you record it?”
“Yes.”
His voice sounded exhausted.
“What happened?”
“My mother admitted she knew the children survived.”
The knife I had carried inside me for five years finally twisted.
Even after everything, hearing confirmation hurt.
“Why?”
“She said she was protecting me.”
“Of course she did.”
“She said your pregnancy was destroying my career.”
I closed my eyes.
At twenty-nine, Sebastian had been preparing to take control of Carter Development after his father became ill.
Every financial newspaper in Chicago had been watching him.
I remembered Victoria telling me that a complicated pregnancy made Sebastian look distracted.
As though three babies fighting to survive were a public-relations inconvenience.
“What else?”
“She claims Olivia suggested blocking your calls.”
“Claims?”
“I don’t believe either of them.”
Good.
That was at least something.
“Where is Olivia?”
“Gone.”
My hand stopped over Ethan’s lunchbox.
“What?”
“She left my apartment before I returned.”
“Did you call her?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because five years ago, I spent too much time reacting to what other people told me. I’m done doing that.”
A beat passed.
“I’ve hired an independent forensic firm. They report only to outside counsel.”
“Sebastian—”
“You don’t need to trust them. Your attorney can receive copies of everything.”
That was smarter.
“What are you looking for?”
“Emails. Trust transfers. Phone records. Anything connected to you, the divorce, or the children.”
“My attorney needs access.”
“Agreed.”
“Before you do anything else, I want one thing.”
“What?”
“A DNA test.”
Silence.
I hadn’t planned on saying it so quickly.
Sebastian finally breathed.
“Okay.”
“Not because I have doubts.”
“I understand.”
“Because if this becomes legal, I want there to be no ambiguity.”
“I understand.”
“We use a clinic my attorney chooses.”
“Yes.”
“And you do not tell your mother where.”
“Yes.”
His voice cracked slightly on the final word.
I looked toward the kitchen table where three lunchboxes waited.
“You really believe they’re yours?”
“Hannah.”
“Yes?”
“I knew before you played the recording.”
I said nothing.
“Lucas laughs exactly like my father.”
That was the first moment I nearly cried.
Not because I wanted Sebastian back.
Because I remembered Charles Carter.
Sebastian’s father had been one of the few people in that family who treated me kindly.
He died six months after my divorce.
He never knew his grandchildren were alive.
Or maybe he had.
That possibility was suddenly unbearable.
“Sebastian.”
“Yes?”
“Did your father know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
“I will.”
The DNA appointment happened two days later.
I told the children Sebastian was an old friend who needed to visit a doctor with us.
Sophie immediately objected.
“He’s not old.”
“Older than you.”
“That’s everybody.”
Sebastian arrived alone.
No driver.
No assistant.
No expensive coat despite the cold.
He wore jeans and a dark sweater.
I almost hated him for looking like the man I had married instead of the man I had divorced.
Ethan was suspicious.
Lucas was fascinated.
Sophie asked seventeen questions before the nurse swabbed Sebastian’s cheek.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you brave?”
“Sometimes.”
“Mom is always brave.”
Sebastian looked at me.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “She is.”
I pretended not to hear.
The results would take two days.
We didn’t need them emotionally.
But legally, they changed everything.
The next problem arrived sooner.
Olivia contacted me.
Not Sebastian.
Me.
A message appeared at 9:03 that night.
We need to talk privately.
I almost deleted it.
Then another came.
Victoria will destroy me before she lets Sebastian know everything.
I sent both screenshots to my attorney.
Her response came immediately.
Do not meet alone.
So naturally, Olivia insisted we meet alone.
The location she chose was a coffee shop near the river.
I brought my attorney, Rachel Monroe, who sat three tables away.
Olivia arrived wearing sunglasses despite the gray morning.
She looked different without Sebastian.
Smaller.
More nervous.
She sat opposite me.
“You ruined my engagement.”
I stared at her.
“That’s how you’re opening?”
“You don’t understand what happened.”
“You deleted messages telling a man his children existed.”
“I was twenty-seven.”
“So was I.”
She looked away.
“Victoria controlled everything.”
“Not your voice.”
“She said you were leaving him.”
“I was in a hospital.”
“She said you intended to take the children and use them against the family.”
“They weighed less than five pounds each.”
Olivia flinched.
Good.
“They were in incubators while you were deleting my voicemails.”
“Hannah—”
“Ethan stopped breathing twice that first week.”
She went pale.
“Sophie needed oxygen for sixteen days.”
“Stop.”
“Lucas was so small I could hold him with one hand.”
“Stop.”
“No.”
People turned.
I lowered my voice.
“You spent five years pretending three children did not exist. You don’t get to ask me to make that comfortable.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
I felt nothing.
“I loved him.”
“So you erased his children?”
“I thought if he knew, he would go back to you.”
There it was.
Not manipulation.
Not Victoria.
Jealousy.
Simple and ugly.
“You were right.”
Her expression changed.
“What?”
“If Sebastian had known his children were alive, he would have come.”
“I know.”
“You knew then.”
“Yes.”
“And you still did it.”
“Yes.”
Her tears fell.
I didn’t look away.
“What did Victoria give you?”
Olivia froze.
I watched carefully.
“What?”
“The night my children were born. What did she offer you?”
“Who told you that?”
“Answer.”
She stood.
I remained seated.
“Olivia.”
She grabbed her purse.
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“You’re right.”
She stopped.
“But you did.”
I leaned forward.
“And now your choice is whether you keep protecting the woman who will sacrifice you the second she needs someone to blame.”
That hit.
Olivia slowly sat again.
Victoria Carter had taught me something valuable.
People like her survived by convincing everyone around them they were indispensable.
The trick was reminding the disposable people that they were disposable.
Olivia’s voice dropped.
“She promised Sebastian.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“She said if I helped end your marriage quietly, she would make sure he eventually saw me differently.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
She looked at her hands.
“She also gave me five percent ownership in Carter Hospitality.”
I stared.
“How much was that worth?”
“At the time? About three million.”
Rachel shifted at the nearby table.
I kept my face still.
“You were paid three million dollars to interfere with my marriage?”
“To protect the family.”
“That’s not what you just said.”
Olivia looked up.
“She wanted you gone before Sebastian took over the company.”
“Why?”
“Because of the trust.”
I froze.
“What trust?”
Her face changed.
She realized she had said too much.
“What trust, Olivia?”
“I don’t know details.”
“You know enough.”
“Charles changed his estate plan after he learned you were pregnant.”
Sebastian’s father.
My pulse jumped.
“He created a trust for the babies.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
She swallowed.
“Thirty million.”
For once, I had no response.
Olivia leaned closer.
“Victoria didn’t just want you gone, Hannah.”
The coffee shop seemed to tilt.
“She needed Sebastian to believe the babies had died because if he acknowledged them publicly, Charles’s trust became irrevocable.”
My hands went cold.
“So she stole from them.”
“I think she redirected the assets after Charles died.”
“Think?”
“I never saw the paperwork.”
“Who did?”
“Martin Hale.”
The name meant something.
Then I remembered.
Martin had been the Carter family attorney.
The second voice on my recording.
The man saying they had blocked my email.
I stared at Olivia.
“You have evidence?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere Victoria can’t reach.”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
I almost laughed.
“What do you want?”
“Protection.”
“From what?”
“Victoria.”
“You’re afraid she’ll sue you?”
Olivia shook her head.
“She doesn’t sue people who can hurt her.”
The fear in her face was real.
“What does she do?”
“She destroys them financially. Careers. Reputations. Families.”
“Welcome to my last five years.”
Olivia looked down.
For the first time, she seemed ashamed.
My phone buzzed.
A message from the DNA clinic.
Results available.
I opened the secure link.
Probability of paternity:
99.9998%.
My vision blurred.
I had known.
Of course I had known.
But seeing it written made the last five years suddenly measurable.
Three children.
One father.
1,825 days stolen.
I sent the result to Sebastian.
He called thirty seconds later.
I ignored him.
Olivia watched me.
“It’s confirmed?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
I stood.
“Send the evidence to Rachel.”
“I need guarantees.”
“You’re talking to the wrong woman.”
I leaned toward her.
“You want mercy? Ask Sebastian.”
Then I walked away.
My phone rang again.
Sebastian.
This time I answered.
He said nothing for several seconds.
Then I heard him crying.
Not loudly.
Sebastian Carter would probably rather bankrupt himself than cry loudly.
But I heard it.
“They’re mine.”
“Yes.”
“I have a daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And two sons.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
That was the first truthful thing he had said without qualification.
So I gave him the only answer that mattered.
“Start by understanding they don’t owe you anything.”
“I know.”
“No, Sebastian. Understand it.”
He breathed unevenly.
“They don’t owe you love because you’re their biological father. They don’t owe you trust because you were lied to. They don’t owe you a place in their lives because your last name matches theirs.”
Silence.
“If you want to be their father, you build that relationship at their speed.”
“I will.”
“And if they decide they’re not ready?”
“I wait.”
That answer mattered.
Before I could reply, Rachel came running out of the coffee shop.
Her face was pale.
“Hannah.”
I lowered the phone.
“What?”
“Olivia just sent the files.”
“And?”
Rachel turned her tablet toward me.
There was a scanned document.
CHARLES CARTER FAMILY TRUST.
Beneficiaries:
Any biological children born to Sebastian Carter and Hannah Mitchell Carter.
Initial funding:
$30,000,000.
Below it was another document.
Signed after Charles Carter’s death.
A declaration stating the pregnancy had ended in loss.
The signature at the bottom was mine.
Except I had never signed it.
And the witness signature belonged to someone who had sat beside me at Christmas dinners for three years.
Victoria Carter.
My children had not only been hidden.
Their grandmother had declared them dead on paper.
May you like
And stolen thirty million dollars from them.
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