Eighteen-Year-Old Secret

"That's exactly the missing piece," Iris's voice buzzed through the car speakers, answering Callista's lingering question about a potential twin. "But after all these years, the retired medical staff I tracked down couldn't recall if the second baby was a boy or a girl. To get the real truth, you're going to have to ask your birth parents face-to-face."

Callista tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. A low hum escaped her throat as her mind raced.

"Here is the timeline," Iris continued. "Both the Thorne and Mercer twins were born on the exact same morning. Then, a fire broke out in the maternity ward. The hospital staff claimed they only managed to rescue two babies from the smoke—one Thorne, one Mercer."

"But that wasn't true," Callista stated, her voice tight.

"Right. In reality, both rescued babies belonged to the Thorne family. You were handed over to the Mercers as their surviving child."

Callista gripped the leather steering wheel. Suspicion hardened her features. "That doesn't add up. A fire breaking out right then? It sounds like a cover-up. Arson. Child theft."

"Bingo," Iris agreed. "The hospital director's wife suffered a severe psychological break two months prior. She had given birth to twins who didn't survive. The loss shattered her mind. During the hospital fire, the director took advantage of the chaos. He stole the Mercer twins, brought them to his wife, and convinced her their babies were alive. Her mental state stabilized almost overnight."

"And to cover his tracks?" Callista asked.

"He paid off both the Thorne and Mercer families a massive sum under the guise of hospital compensation, then fled overseas with his wife and the stolen babies. Interestingly, while abroad, they magically 'had' twins. Those same twins returned to Oakhaven City last year. I dug into their medical records. They are Silas and Helena Mercer's biological children."

Callista let out a slow breath. The puzzle pieces clicked into place, forming a clear, ugly picture. The hospital director used the fire as a smokescreen, kidnapped the Mercer babies to cure his wife's trauma, and swapped Callista into the Mercer family to hide the missing child gap.

"I cornered the hospital director," Iris added. "He swore on his life he didn't start the fire. He claims it was a crime of opportunity. A spur-of-the-moment decision to take the Mercer twins when the smoke alarms blared. His wife is fully recovered now." Iris paused, the sound of flipping pages echoing over the line. "Do you want me to pull the files on the Mercer twins?"

Callista shook her head, even though Iris couldn't see her. "Do they have anything to do with my current situation?"

"Not on paper."

"Then I don't care about them," Callista said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "My focus remains the same. Find out who sent those anonymous letters to the Mercers. That person orchestrated this entire fallout. I want them found. And I want the hard truth about that hospital fire."

"Understood. I'll keep tearing through the records."

"Thanks, Iris," Callista softened her voice. "One more thing. Any movement on my mentor? Even a ghost of a footprint."

Six years ago, a brilliant, enigmatic figure had taken Callista under their wing, handing her the reins to the Aether Group. For two grueling years, her mentor guided her, shaping her into a force to be reckoned with. Then, after transferring control of multiple medical labs, advanced physics research centers, and a private astronomical observatory into Callista's name, the mentor vanished from Oakhaven City. No note. No trace.

The unsolved disappearance gnawed at Callista every single day.

A heavy silence stretched across the line before Iris sighed. "Nothing yet. The trail is still cold. But I have an alert set up for any of the old aliases. I won't stop looking."

"I know. Keep me posted." Callista ended the call.

She eased her foot off the brake, guiding the car down the busy avenue. Her thoughts drifted to Gideon and Elise Thorne. If the hospital director had paid them a massive hush-money settlement eighteen years ago, how did they end up living in a rundown district like Eldridge Court?

'I suppose I'll find out soon enough,' she thought.

Callista glanced at the navigation screen. She was only five minutes away from her destination, but a sea of brake lights illuminated the road ahead. Traffic had ground to a dead halt. Police sirens wailed in the distance, their blue and red lights bouncing off the surrounding glass skyscrapers.

Checking her watch, she frowned. Almost noon. Sitting here meant she would be late.

She shifted the car into park, stepped out into the humid midday air, and jogged up the steps of a nearby pedestrian overpass to scout the blockage. Down the street, a massive crowd surged against police barricades outside a half-constructed residential complex.

Bold, red characters on white banners flapped in the wind.

"Regret buying an apartment in Vane Garden? You'll regret it for the rest of your life!"

"Three years overdue! Families left homeless, kids without schools!"

"Blood, sweat, and tears for mortgage payments... and still no home!"

Angry chants echoed through the concrete canyon, mixing with the frustrated honks of stranded drivers. Dozens of frantic homeowners, desperate and scammed out of their life savings, were staging a massive protest right at the main intersection.

Callista watched the heartbreaking scene, feeling a pang of sympathy for the families begging for their stolen futures.

She turned away, descending the concrete steps back to her car. Since the main road was compromised, she needed a new route. She whipped out her phone, found a narrow alleyway on the map, and maneuvered her car out of the gridlock. The detour added time, forcing her through cramped backstreets lined with overflowing dumpsters and rogue delivery bikes, but she kept moving.

Twenty minutes later, the towering skyline of Oakhaven City gave way to the decaying infrastructure of Eldridge Court.

This neighborhood used to be a bustling hub for factory workers decades ago. Now, it stood as a forgotten relic. The roads were cracked, sprouting weeds. The residential buildings maxed out at six stories, their exterior walls shedding pale green paint like dead skin. The building numbers were faded, barely legible against the grime. Most of the people walking the cracked sidewalks were elderly residents dragging grocery carts. Anyone with a bit of wealth or youth had abandoned this place years ago.

Callista parked her sleek car near the rusting front gates, drawing a few curious stares. She rolled down her window and asked the yawning security guard for directions. He pointed her toward the back of the lot.

She navigated the uneven pavement on foot until she spotted Building No. 6.

A man and a woman in their early fifties stood by the entrance. The man wore a black suit and polished leather shoes. The woman had on a neat blue dress paired with modest high heels. Their clothes were out of style, perhaps a decade old, but they were pristine, pressed without a single wrinkle. They stood with a quiet dignity that contrasted sharply with the crumbling brick behind them.

The woman clutched her phone, her eyes darting between the screen and the street. The man kept rising on his tiptoes, a hand shading his brow as he scanned the approaching faces.

Callista knew them instantly. Gideon and Elise Thorne.

They had met briefly at the hospital a few days ago for the paternity test. Right after the nurses drew their blood, Gideon received an urgent call, forcing them to sprint out of the clinic before they could even exchange proper introductions. Callista only knew their names and faces, nothing more.

As Callista stepped out from the shadow of a sprawling oak tree, Elise gasped. She tugged Gideon's sleeve, pointing with a shaking finger.

Their faces transformed. Joy, disbelief, and raw nervousness collided in their expressions. They rushed forward, stopping just three feet away. Elise raised her hands, her fingers trembling as she reached toward Callista's arm, but then she yanked them back, as if afraid she might break the illusion.

Gideon swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "Callista... is it... is it okay if we call you that?"

Callista smiled. It wasn't a practiced social smile, but a genuine, warm expression that reached her eyes. "Of course."

Elise rubbed her palms together, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Callista, we've been so happy ever since the hospital called. Finding you... having you back... it is the best thing that has happened to us in years." She looked down at the cracked concrete beneath her polished heels, her voice dropping to a shameful whisper. "It's just that... our family doesn't have much right now. We are so sorry. We wanted to give you a better welcome."

Callista looked at their worn but meticulously clean clothes, reading the profound sincerity and guilt in their posture. They felt unworthy of her.

She stepped forward, bridging the gap they were too afraid to cross, and gently rested a hand on Elise's arm.

"It's okay," Callista said, her voice steady and grounding. "I've had a good life so far. Growing up, I never lacked for anything, and my future won't change just because my address does. You don't need to give me anything or feel bad about where we are standing right now."

Gideon blinked rapidly, wiping at his eyes.

Callista looked between her biological parents, her tone carrying a quiet, unshakable confidence. "If there is something we want but don't have, let's work together to get it. We build it ourselves."

Those words struck Gideon and Elise like a physical blow. A choked sob escaped Elise's lips, and Gideon had to bite the inside of his cheek to maintain his composure. If they hadn't been terrified of scaring their daughter away on their very first real meeting, they would have pulled her into a desperate embrace and broken down crying right on the sidewalk.

Gideon let out a wet, breathless laugh, scrubbing his face with his hand. "Right. You're right. We build it ourselves." He cleared his throat, forcing a bright smile. "The food's getting cold upstairs. Your mother cooked all morning. Let's head inside and talk over lunch, shall we?"

"Sure. I'm starving," Callista nodded, turning toward the stairwell of Building No. 6.

Before she could take a single step, a sharp, high-pitched voice sliced through the emotional warmth of the courtyard.

"Callista, wait!"

The aggressive tone made Callista stop dead in her tracks. She spun around on instinct, dropping her guard for a fraction of a second.

*Click. Flash. Click.*

Blinding white lights exploded in her vision. A man and a woman burst out from behind a parked delivery van, their phones thrust forward like weapons, frantically snapping photo after photo of Callista standing in the middle of the poverty-stricken, decaying neighborhood.