Chapter Fifty One

Jake 

The cafe is too quiet for my pounding heart. The clink of a spoon against porcelain, the hiss of the espresso machine, the shuffle of papers from the man across from me all of it feels like background noise to the storm inside me.

I lean forward, elbows digging into the wooden table. “Just tell me,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.

 “I think I have got something,” he finally says, sliding a folder toward me. The manila edges are worn, as if he’s been turning it over in his hands, debating whether to hand it to me at all. “I managed to pull some medical records. Took a few calls and favors, but, I think it explains a lot about what happened the day Kyla disappeared.”

My hand hovers above the folder. It’s strange, how paper can look heavier than stone when it has the power to tear open your life. I finally take it, flipping it open.

At the top: Kyla’s name. Her birthday. Her hospital ID number. The letters blur as my pulse spikes. I drag my eyes lower.

Date: Five years ago.

Diagnosis: Pregnancy confirmed. Approximately six weeks.

The air is gone from the room. I stare at the word “pregnant” until it burns. My throat locks up, my chest tightening like a vice.

“She was pregnant?” The words sound strangled, ripped out of me.

Carter nods. “Yes. She found out the morning of the day she vanished. According to records, she went to the hospital early, got the results, then left in a hurry. Witness statements, neighbors, hospital staff confirm she was emotional, but determined. She went back to the house, but only for a short while.”

I shut my eyes. That day comes back to me in flashes the argument, the slammed door, the silence that followed. But then she never came back, the fight we had was normal like the million fights we had had before, at the moment I never thought it was that serious, that she will run away

Pregnant With my child.

My stomach twists, nausea rising as another thought claws its way to the surface.

“What happened after?” My voice is hoarse, jagged.

Carter exhales slowly, as though steadying me for the blow. “She didn’t stay home long. Witnesses saw her rushing out, distressed. Within the hour, she was hit by a car, reports show it was a dark colored sedan, never identified. No plate, no driver ever came forward. She was taken to a different hospital, treated briefly, then… she disappeared again.”

I grip the folder so tightly my knuckles go white. “Disappeared how?”

“They didn’t discharge her properly. One minute she was there, the next, she was gone. Hours later, her belongings washed up near the river. That’s why the assumption was she drowned but she was never anywhere near that river.”

The word “drowned” makes bile rise in my throat. My mind flashes to Kyla’s terrified screams last night, the nightmare she woke from, begging someone to stop. My hands shake, the coffee in front of me untouched, growing cold.

“And no one thought to question this? No one thought it strange a woman pregnant, injured vanished without a trace?”

Carter’s eyes darken. “People did question it. But cases like that, they fall through the cracks. Especially when no one pushes hard enough. No family demanding answers. No husband claiming her and the hospital didn't want to be under scrutiny and don't forget whoever took her to the hospital never gave them her real name she was a Jane doe.”

The jab is unintentional, but it cuts deep. I wasn’t there. I didn’t push. I didn’t even know. My own shame suffocates me.

Pregnant. With my child.

My eyes drift back to the folder, to the sterile black and white letters confirming what my heart can’t process. A part of me feels the earth shift under my feet, like my entire past has been rewritten in one brutal stroke.

Carter leans forward, lowering his voice. “Jake, this doesn’t explain everything. We still don’t know how she ended up near the river, how her things ended up there . But this” he taps the folder“this tells us she wasn’t just a runaway. Something happened. Something violent. Someone didn’t want her found.”

My jaw tightens, rage sparking low in my chest. A dark-colored sedan. An untraceable accident. A missing woman, pregnant with my child. This isn’t just bad luck. This smells deliberate.

And if it was deliberate, if someone hurt her, tried to erase her then I have been blind for too long.

“Do you think she knows?” I whisper, the thought suddenly gripping me. “About the records? About the car?”

Carter shakes his head. “From what I have gathered, she remembers fragments. Trauma does that. But her medical file doesn’t lie. She knew she was pregnant. That much is certain.”

“I need to know,” I mutter, almost to myself. “I need proof.”

Carter nods, slipping me another envelope. “There are DNA options. Quiet ones. If you want answers, I can arrange it. But Jake” his tone softens, almost fatherly“be prepared. The truth might be heavier than you’re ready for.”

I laugh bitterly, the sound hollow. “Heavier than this?” I shove the folder back toward him, my hand trembling. “Heavier than knowing she carried my children and I wasn’t there to protect her? Heavier than not knowing my wife was in danger?”

Silence sits between us like a third presence. Carter doesn’t push, doesn’t offer comfort. He just lets me stew in the hell I’ve made for myself.

Finally, I lean back, the weight of exhaustion crashing over me. My mind replays the last few days the hospital, Kyla’s wide eyes when she saw me, the way the children clung to her, the way Elias studied me like he already knew me.

If what Carter says is true, then the truth isn’t just about the past. It’s sitting in that country house right now, calling Kyla “Mommy,” asking if I’m her friend.

I stand abruptly, chair scraping the floor. “Keep digging,” I say, my voice low, dangerous. “I don’t care what it costs. Find out who was behind that car. Find out who wanted her gone. And Carter” I pause, looking him dead in the eye“make sure no one else finds out what you told me today. Not until I’m ready.”

He nods once, sliding the folder back into his bag.

I leave the café, the cool air outside slapping my face. But it does nothing to clear my head. The world feels different now, heavier, sharper.

But I know exactly what to do.