Alive.
Tired.
Smiling.
And beside her, taped crookedly to the edge of the photo, was an old hospital bracelet.
Baby boy.
Mother: Elena Marlowe.
Father: Sebastian Vale.
Sebastian’s voice changed completely.
“Where did you get this?”
The boy looked straight at him.
Calm now.
Certain.
“My mom said you’d remember me.”
The elegant older woman covered her mouth.
Someone whispered.
No one understood.
But everyone felt it.
Something buried had just stood up at the table.
Sebastian looked from the photo to the boy.
Same dark eyes.
Same jaw.
Same small dimple near the left cheek.
His face drained of color.
“What’s your name?” he whispered.
The boy swallowed.
“Leo.”
Sebastian’s hand began to shake.
Because Leo was the name he and Elena had chosen for the child he was told had never been born.
The Woman They Said Disappeared
Sebastian did not faint.
He wished he had.
Fainting would have given him a few seconds away from the truth.
Instead, he sat frozen beneath the terrace lights while the poor boy stood in front of him with a flute, a photograph, and a face that made twelve years collapse.
“Elena died,” Sebastian said.
His voice sounded hollow even to himself.
The boy shook his head.
“No. She’s sick.”
Claire stood too quickly.
“Sebastian, this is a scam.”
