Chapter 3 - Echoes of the Past
"His name was Caleb," I repeated, my voice shaking as I cradled Fern against my chest. "We met at a community college library in downtown Chicago. He... he told me he was a mechanic. He loved old country music and cheap coffee. We were together for six months before he disappeared overnight."
Stellan stood up so fast his leather chair rolled backward and crashed against the oak wall. His face was completely drained of color, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
"Caleb didn't disappear," Stellan growled, his voice trembling with a fury I had never heard before. "He was killed. Two years ago. In a car accident on the outskirts of the city. My mother... my mother arranged his funeral."
"No!" I cried out, hot tears spilling over my lashes. "He couldn't be dead! He promised he would come back! He left this locket—no, wait. He wore a locket just like that, but he told me it was his family's only heirloom!"
Stellan closed the distance between us in two strides. He grabbed the locket from around Fern's neck—wait, no, it wasn't Fern's, it was the one hanging from the baby's blanket where she had dropped it. He popped it open with a sharp click.
Inside was a tiny, faded photograph of two young boys standing in front of a grand stone mansion. One was Stellan, severe and unsmiling. The other was a younger man with the exact same gray eyes, smiling brightly at the camera.
"Caleb..." Stellan whispered, his voice cracking. "It really was him."
I stared at him, my mind spinning out of control. "If Caleb is your brother... then the man who fathered my child... was a Cross?"
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Before Stellan could answer, the door burst open.
Mrs. Thornbury stood there, breathless and horrified. "Mr. Cross! There’s an emergency downstairs. Your mother... Mrs. Beatrice Cross is here. And she brought armed security."
