Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO MADE THE TWINS
Saint Agnes Hospital had been abandoned for nineteen years.
The city had fenced it twice.
Teenagers cut through both fences.
Copper thieves stripped half the building.
Windows were broken.
Graffiti covered the brick.
But when Luca's convoy arrived shortly after two in the morning, lights were burning on the third floor.
“That building hasn't had city power in a decade,” Detective Hale said.
Gabriel looked at the glowing windows.
“Private generator.”
Luca checked his weapon.
“No twins.”
Dante nodded.
Owen and Ben remained at the DeLuca estate under police protection.
Luca had refused Bellini's demand.
But he had brought something else.
The photograph of Sophie.
And Hannah.
Hannah had insisted.
Again.
Luca was becoming tired of losing that argument.
Daniel had wanted to come too.
Hannah had refused him for once.
“Dad, stay with Owen and Ben.”
Daniel had looked ready to object.
She added, “They need one adult in that house who isn't a DeLuca, secretly alive, or carrying a gun.”
Daniel had almost smiled.
Almost.
Now Hannah stood beside Luca outside Saint Agnes.
Patricia and Gabriel waited in another vehicle.
Celeste had disappeared.
Again.
No one knew when.
Luca was furious, but Rebecca came first.
They entered through the ambulance bay.
The smell surprised Hannah.
Not decay.
Bleach.
Someone cleaned here.
Recent footprints crossed the tile.
Hale touched a wall.
“Camera.”
A tiny lens had been hidden inside an old smoke detector.
Luca stared directly at it.
“We're here.”
A speaker clicked.
An elderly woman's voice answered.
“So much like Vittorio.”
Margaret Bellini.
Luca's face went cold.
“I'll try not to take that personally.”
A soft laugh.
“Third floor.”
They climbed.
No resistance.
That worried Luca more than gunmen would have.
On the third floor, the corridor lights were bright.
Fresh hospital beds lined the walls.
Machines hummed behind glass partitions.
This was not an abandoned building.
It was a hidden clinic.
Hannah whispered, “How could this operate without anyone knowing?”
Gabriel answered from behind her.
“Money.”
Patricia added, “And fear.”
At the end of the corridor sat an old woman in a wheelchair.
White hair.
Blue glasses.
A rose-colored scarf.
Ben's Rose Grandma.
Margaret Bellini smiled.
“Luca.”
“Rebecca.”
“Still impatient.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“That depends on your definition.”
Margaret looked at Hannah.
“My goodness.”
Hannah felt exposed.
“You have Michael's eyes.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“You should be proud.”
“I'm not.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
Margaret's expression softened.
“Michael.”
“Don't call me that.”
“But it is your name.”
“My name is whatever I decide it is.”
Margaret looked amused.
“Spoken like a DeLuca.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
Luca asked again, “Rebecca.”
Margaret pressed a button.
A glass wall turned transparent.
Rebecca lay unconscious on a hospital bed.
Luca moved.
The door was locked.
“What did you give her?”
“Medication she has received many times.”
Rebecca's arm held an IV.
Hannah saw old needle scars.
Rage moved through Luca's face.
“You kept her drugged for three years.”
“Not continuously.”
Margaret sounded almost offended.
“She had periods of remarkable clarity.”
Hannah wanted to hit her.
Instead she asked, “Why?”
Margaret looked at her like a teacher pleased by a good student.
“Because Rebecca carried the twins.”
“We know.”
“No.”
Margaret smiled.
“You know she gave birth to them.”
Luca stopped.
“That isn't the same thing.”
Margaret nodded.
“Exactly.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Ben said someone else made them.”
“Benjamin always listened well.”
Luca's voice sharpened.
“Explain.”
Margaret folded her hands.
“Owen and Benjamin were embryos created from Luca's genetic material.”
“And Rebecca's.”
Margaret did not answer.
Luca stared at her.
“And Rebecca's?”
“No.”
Hannah heard Patricia inhale.
Luca's face went utterly still.
“Whose?”
Margaret looked through the glass at Rebecca.
“She never knew.”
“Whose?”
Margaret smiled.
“The donor was chosen for compatibility.”
“With what?”
“With Sophie.”
Hannah's skin prickled.
Luca looked at Sophie's photograph.
“Sophie is Rebecca's biological daughter?”
“Yes.”
“And the twins?”
“Half-siblings.”
“Who is their biological mother?”
Margaret tilted her head.
“You've met her.”
Everyone in the corridor froze.
Luca looked at Patricia.
Then Hannah.
Then Margaret.
“Who?”
Margaret glanced toward a side door.
It opened.
Celeste walked out.
Hannah's stomach dropped.
Luca stared at his sister.
Celeste's face was wet with tears.
“No.”
Luca whispered it first.
Celeste shook her head.
“I didn't know.”
Margaret smiled.
“She knows now.”
Luca took one step back.
Hannah understood the horror before Celeste spoke.
“They used my eggs.”
Luca's face changed from rage to disbelief.
Celeste rushed forward.
“I didn't consent. Luca, I swear to God.”
Margaret sighed.
“Consent is such a modern obsession.”
Gabriel moved so quickly Hale had to stop him.
“You experimented on your own patients.”
Margaret shrugged.
“We produced viable embryos.”
Luca looked physically ill.
“My children were created from my DNA and my sister's?”
“No.”
Margaret sounded annoyed.
“Nothing so crude.”
Everyone stared at her.
“Celeste's eggs were used in preliminary research. They failed.”
Celeste closed her eyes.
Luca's voice dropped.
“Then whose?”
Margaret smiled again.
“Hannah's.”
The world stopped.
Hannah stared at her.
“What?”
“You were a child,” Patricia whispered.
Margaret nodded.
“Fourteen when the tissue was collected.”
Hannah backed into the wall.
“I never donated anything.”
“No.”
Margaret sounded pleased by the memory.
“You had an emergency appendectomy.”
Hannah remembered.
Fourteen years old.
Three days in a hospital.
Patricia never left her side.
Or Hannah had believed that.
Margaret continued.
“Ovarian tissue can be preserved.”
Hannah felt nauseated.
“You stole part of my body.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel's face turned gray.
Patricia began crying.
“I didn't know.”
Margaret waved a hand.
“Don't be dramatic. She retained normal fertility.”
Luca moved toward Margaret.
Hale stepped between them.
Not to protect her.
To protect the case.
“Luca.”
Luca looked at Hannah.
Then at Margaret.
“The twins are Hannah's?”
“Genetically, she contributed mitochondrial material in the final successful protocol, not maternal nuclear DNA.”
Margaret smiled at Hannah.
“So no, dear. You are not their mother.”
Hannah's knees nearly gave out.
Margaret continued as though discussing a recipe.
“The primary ova came from another donor.”
Luca's patience broke.
“WHO?”
Margaret finally lost her smile.
“Elisabetta.”
Luca stared.
“My mother?”
“Stored when she was young.”
The implications were grotesque.
The boys' genetic lineage had been deliberately engineered from DeLuca lines across generations.
Gabriel whispered, “Carlo's obsession.”
Margaret nodded.
“Continuity.”
Luca looked through the glass at Rebecca.
“She was just the surrogate.”
“Gestational mother.”
“She is their mother.”
Margaret shrugged.
“If you prefer emotional definitions.”
Luca nearly crossed the room.
Hannah grabbed his arm.
“Rebecca.”
That stopped him.
Margaret smiled.
“Smart girl.”
Hannah hated her.
“What about Sophie?”
Margaret's smile returned.
“Ah.”
She pressed another button.
A second glass panel cleared.
A young girl sat on a bed.
Alive.
Awake.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
Sophie.
She looked at Luca through the glass.
Not frightened.
Curious.
“Is that him?” she asked through a speaker.
Margaret nodded.
“That's your father.”
Luca approached the glass.
Sophie stood.
For a moment, neither knew what to say.
Then Sophie lifted one hand.
Luca placed his palm against the glass opposite hers.
His eyes filled.
Margaret watched.
“This is what I built.”
Luca didn't look at her.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“These are children.”
The fire alarm suddenly erupted.
Hale looked toward the stairwell.
Smoke curled beneath the door.
Dante shouted from his radio.
“Fire on two!”
Margaret's smile disappeared.
“What did you do?”
Luca turned.
“I didn't.”
An explosion rocked the building.
The lights flickered.
Rebecca's monitor alarmed.
Sophie screamed.
Margaret stared down the corridor.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
“That wasn't Adrian.”
Gabriel grabbed her wheelchair.
“Who else knows we're here?”
Margaret whispered:
“The people Adrian stole the program from.”
Another explosion shook the floor.
Then every locked patient door on the corridor clicked open.
From the dark stairwell below came dozens of footsteps.
And a man's amplified voice:
“Dr. Margaret Bellini, this facility now belongs to the Rinaldi Trust.”
Hannah looked at Elisabetta's father’s old emblem painted on the wall.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
Margaret whispered the last name anyone expected.
“Michael.”
Gabriel stared at her.
She shook her head.
“Not you.”
Then she looked toward the smoke.
May you like
“The first Michael.”
Elisabetta's stolen son had not been the only boy given that name.
