Michael raised one hand, signaling everyone to remain silent.The old archive seemed to shrink around them. Dust floated through the weak light above the records table, and somewhere beyond the doorway, a metal object scraped against the floor.Jack turned toward the sound.He could hear footsteps.One person. Moving carefully, stopping whenever the old building creaked.“Someone is still inside,” Jack whispered.Michael reached beneath his jacket and drew a short silver blade. “Nobody leaves this room alone.”Daniel gave a humorless laugh. “You expect us to stand here while whoever entered destroys the records?”“You're welcome to lead the way,” Michael replied. “Unless, of course, you already know who's waiting outside.”Daniel's expression tightened.Jack noticed.He was beginning to understand that the smallest reactions were sometimes more revealing than the grandest confessions.“Rachel,” Jack said, keeping his eyes on Daniel, “is there another exit?”The former nurse shook her

Jack was halfway through examining the transfer sheet when the lights went out.The darkness was immediate.Someone swore near the doorway. A chair scraped across the floor, followed by the sharp clatter of something falling.“Everybody stay where you are!” Michael ordered.Jack heard Ethan inhale sharply.“Jace?”“I'm here,” Jace answered. “I've got him.”Jack remained still, listening.Rain tapped against the boarded windows. The old generator continued humming somewhere outside, but the electrical buzz above them had stopped. Beneath the ordinary sounds, he caught something else: a faint electronic click from beneath the records table.The red light Amy had noticed.It clicked again.“There's something under the table,” Jack said.“Don't touch it,” Amy warned.“I wasn't planning to.”He crouched carefully, following the sound. His eyes adjusted to the darkness faster than they should have. The room emerged in fragments: the table legs, scattered folders, Michael's silhouette beside

Nobody moved after Marcus finished speaking.Jack watched his father, searching his face for the certainty that had been missing from every conversation about his birth. Marcus had always been secretive, but this was different. He looked like a man who had spent years keeping a door closed, only to discover that someone had been standing on the other side all along.“I want to see the folder,” Jack said.Marcus nodded and headed toward his study.Jack followed, with Amy close behind. Jace started after them, but Marcus stopped him at the doorway.“Give us a minute.”“No,” Jace replied.Marcus turned.“Jace—”“I've spent years listening to people discuss my life as if I weren't standing in the same room. I'm not doing that again.”Jack glanced between them. He understood Jace's anger. Whatever the folder contained, it might explain something about both of them, and neither brother intended to be excluded.“Let him come,” Jack said.Marcus considered arguing, then stepped aside.The stu

The melody lasted only a few seconds before the music box stopped.Nobody spoke.Ethan stood in the doorway, holding the open box with both hands. He looked from Jack to Elena, confused by the expressions on their faces.“What's wrong?” he asked. “It's just a music box.”Elena rose slowly from her chair.“Where did you find it?”“In the cupboard upstairs. Behind the old blankets.” Ethan glanced at the engraving. “I thought it belonged to Grandma.”“Bring it here, sweetheart.”Ethan approached cautiously and placed the box on the desk. Elena didn't touch it immediately. She studied the engraved woman and the baby, her expression growing more troubled with every passing second.Jack had seen that look before. It was the same expression she wore whenever a memory came close enough to frighten her but refused to become clear.“Have you seen this before?” he asked.Elena nodded.“Not this exact box. But I remember the melody.”“From when?”She closed her eyes.“When you were very young.”J

Amy arrived at the Carter house shortly after eight, carrying a notebook and a printed copy of the hospital transfer sheet.Jack was waiting in the living room with the drawing he had found behind the panel in his childhood cupboard. He had photographed it twice and sealed the original in an envelope. The crescent moon and star were unmistakable, as were the initials beneath them.L.C.Amy placed the transfer sheet on the coffee table.“I checked the photographs from the archive again,” she said. “The symbol appears beside the entry confirming that a child was returned to Elena. But there's something else.”She pointed to the bottom of the document.A reference number had been written beside the symbol. Most of the digits were faded, but the final four remained legible.“Those numbers match the last four digits of the Guardian reference number on the other form,” Jack said.“Exactly. That doesn't establish who made the notation, but it suggests the two documents may have passed throug