49

Chapter 49

Brittany’s Pov

The flight to Tampa felt so long that I was beginning to hate the idea that brought us here in the first place. Even though it was under three hours.

I sat in first class, watching clouds slide by while Luis kept his distance, sitting in several rows behind so it would look like we weren’t together.

My head wouldn’t stop racing. What would the nurse tell me? Would she confirm that Pink was Adrian’s child, or would she say the baby had died and I’d been handed someone else? Everything I’d worked for depended on that answer. The uncertainty gnawed at me.

Luis had found her: name changed to Susan Miller, working at a small clinic outside Tampa, living in an apartment complex that matched the life of someone hiding. He’d dug up her schedule and where she lived. After running for years, I still found her,she couldn’t hide far from me.

The rental Luis paid for was an unremarkable beige sedan. The car does not attract people's attention. We drove through tired-looking parts of Tampa with pot holes I didn't know exist. The GPS guided us to an old building that was built and seen better days decades ago.

“Third floor, 3C,” Luis said as he parked. “She’s on shift now. She should be back in an hour.”

“We’ll wait,” I said, smoothing my hair in my compact. Even on a mission I wanted to look perfect. We don’t show weakness. We control what other people see.

An hour later a woman in scrubs walked from a distant car. Suffering had made her aged, she'd gray hair, deeper wrinkled lines, the weight of someone who’d run for a long time. Still, I recognized her: the nurse from St. Mary’s Maternity Ward, the woman who I gave cash three years earlier and handed me a baby.

“That’s her,” I said.

We followed her carefully, at a far distance. When she climbed the building’s staircase, and we followed her without her noticing. The hall smelled of mildew drink and old smoke; while the ceiling leaked water.

If this is where my fifty thousand had bought her, then it's a shame. A nasty apartment that was falling apart far from New York. She looks more wretched than before. What did she even use the money for because it's useless to her.

I knocked on 3C. I knock on the cheap door. Three times.

The sound was heard in the quiet hallway.

“Who is it?” she asked from inside. Cautious.

“Susan Miller? I’m with the clinic. Please, ma there’s a problem with your paperwork,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

Locks turned. The door opened a bit with the chain still on it. Her face appeared in the gap, eyes wide and frightened.

“Hello, Nurse—” I paused. “Or Susan, now?”

She tried to close the door, but Luis was very fast. He hit the door with his muscle hands, the chain broke, and we were inside, before she could scream. She fell as the door forcefully opened.

“Please,” she gasped, backing away. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t have money—”

“I didn’t come for money.” I closed the door as we stepped in.

The apartment was dirtier than I thought. I continued, “I want to know the truth about three years ago.”

She went white. “I don’t know anything, please.”

“St. Mary’s. Rikers. Adrian Martinez gave birth to a baby girl. You handled the delivery. You took payment.” I watched her carefully. “Does all this ring a bell?”

She sat down instantly, her hands shaking. “I— I don’t remember—”

“You don’t forget fifty thousand dollars,” I said. My voice went cold. “You took my money.”

She hugged herself and whispered, “What do you want?”

“The truth.” I sat across from her, keeping calm. “Did you give me Adrian’s biological baby, or did you switch her?”

For a long moment she stayed silent. I thought she might lie or break down. At last she spoke, small and shaky. “Why now? It’s been three years.”

“Because it matters to me,” I snapped. “Because if Pink is Adrian’s child, everything changes.”

Her eyes darted to Luis by the door, then back to me. She seemed to measure the danger and decided to cooperate.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “The baby I gave you was Adrian Martinez’s biological daughter. I didn’t switch her.”

Relief hit me first, then a cold knot. If this was true, Pink was Adrian’s child—and that biological link could ruin everything I’d built.

“Are you certain?” I pressed. “Absolutely certain?”

“I delivered the baby myself,” she said. “I took her from Adrian and handed her to you. No switch.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “But someone else paid me too.”

“What?” I asked, trying to confirm it with the information I got first.

“A man named Martin Reeves gave me fifty thousand as well.” The name landed like ice. Martin—Adrian’s ex. So it was true.

“He paid me to kill the baby,” she said, voice trembling. “To make it look like a stillbirth, a natural cause that would seem believable. He wanted Adrian to think her child had died.”

My mind refused to accept it. Martin had paid for murder. I’d paid for a child. The nurse had taken both payments but what had she actually done?

“But you didn’t kill her,” I said slowly.

“No.” She swallowed. “I’m not a murderer. I took Martin’s money and refused to follow through. I told him later the baby had died and he believed me. I disappeared after that. Changed my name. Moved.”

“So Martin thinks Pink is dead,” I said. The thought should have made me laugh at the irony. Instead it made my skin crawl.

The nurse looked terrified. “There’s more,” she whispered. “Someone’s been asking questions.”

My heart stopped. “Who?”

“A month ago someone started calling, trying to access prison records, asking staff about that night. My friend at the facility told me. Whoever it is is digging. They asked whether the baby really died or if something else happened.”

“Who is asking?” I demanded.

She shook her head in a negative way,tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t know the person Ma. My friend couldn’t find a name—only that they’re pushing hard. If they keep digging, inconsistencies could come up. If that happens, you and I are both in danger. You for taking the baby. Me for falsifying records and taking bribes. And Martin… for trying to have a baby killed.”

The room felt small and airless. If someone was investigating, it wasn’t just our secret—it was a threat to everyone involved.

“Who else knows?” I asked. “Aside from you, me, and Martin?”

“No one.” She sounded very sure of what she had said and at the same time I felt she was terrified answering the questions. “I falsified paperwork. Buried records. But I kept copies,just in case.”

She got up slowly and returned with a small lockbox. Inside was a USB drive.

“I scanned what I could save,” she said. “Delivery notes, footprints, blood type—what remained. I kept it because I needed insurance.”

I took the drive. It was tiny and heavy with consequence. If the files were real, they could prove Pink’s origin.

“If anyone asks about this,” I told her, “you say you don’t know me. You don’t remember that night. Understood?”

She nodded hard. “I just want to be left alone please. I’ve been running for three years. I want to rest”

“Keep running,” I said. “Because someone’s asking questions now. If they find you, you need a story that doesn’t drag any of us down. And there's no rest for the evil doers.”

"Okay, ma"

"If you think you can outsmart me," I said, "Then,you'll be dead before you blink an eye."

We left the apartment quietly. The USB sat in my purse like a threat and a promise. The nurse’s confirmation meant Pink was Adrian’s biological daughter. But I needed more: I needed Adrian’s DNA to make the match undeniable.

That meant getting close to Adrian without raising suspicion. I started thinking through ways to do that—where she’d be, who’d be near her. The charity gala next Saturday came to mind. Margaret’s surprise. A place with crowds and a chance to make contact with Adrian. I'm sure Darcy would come with Pink and her nanny, of course.

On the drive back to the airport my head raced with plans. If the DNA matched, what would I do? Separate mother and child was the first then what? Hide the truth forever to protect what I’d built? Or use it as a weapon to destroy Adrian?

Either way, I had to move carefully. Someone was digging into Pink’s past. I had a USB full of documents and a clear objective: get Adrian’s DNA, confirm what the nurse said, and decide whether to bury the truth or unleash it.

I adjusted my collar and breathed. The stakes were higher than I’d guessed. The next steps had to be flawless.

Just then, my phone rang... I never expected the caller.