CHAP 2 — Baby Sister
For one second, Sarah thought pain had made her hear wrong.
Our sister.
Christopher turned sharply.
“Excuse me?”
The tall man ignored him.
He was in his late thirties, broad-shouldered, wearing a dark tailored coat and the expression of someone holding back violence by force of discipline. Beside him stood another man with the same eyes, younger by a few years, already pale with shock.
A security aide stopped behind them, scanning the street.
The first man looked at Sarah.
His voice changed.
It became careful.
“Sarah?”
Her chest tightened.
She had heard that voice less than an hour earlier through a stranger’s phone.
A retired neighbor named Mr. Wilson had knelt beside her on the curb and handed her his cell when her own phone died. He had said, “Call whoever you need.”
“I don’t have anyone,” she had whispered.
“Think again.”
The number had been folded in her wallet for two years.
A possible contact for Alexander Morgan.
She had never called.
Fear had stopped her. Shame too. What if he did not remember her? What if he had built a life and did not want the little sister the foster system lost?
Then another contraction answered for her.
She called.
A man picked up on the second ring.
“Alexander Morgan speaking.”
Sarah could barely speak.
“My name is Sarah. Sarah Morgan. I think… I think you might be my brother.”
Silence.
Then his breath broke.
“Sarah?”
The way he said her name shattered her.
“Yes,” she sobbed. “I’m pregnant. They threw me out. I don’t know who else to call.”
“Where are you?”
“Bradford Lane. Fairmont Hills. The Wellington estate.”
A second male voice sounded in the background.
“Alex? Is it her?”
Alexander’s voice became steady and protective in a way Sarah remembered from childhood without knowing she remembered.
“Listen to me, baby sister. Stay exactly where you are. We’re coming.”
Now he was here.
Standing on Bradford Lane.
Looking at her like fifteen years had collapsed into one impossible moment.
James Morgan dropped to his knees beside her.
His face broke when he saw the dirt on her dress and the pain twisting through her body.
“We spent fifteen years looking for you,” he said.
Sarah reached toward him with trembling fingers.
“You remember me?”
James took her hand.
“Every day.”
Christopher’s face hardened.
“This is ridiculous. She is my wife.”
Alexander turned toward him.
“No. She is a woman in labor sitting on pavement because you put her there.”
Margaret stepped down from the porch.
“Do you have any idea who we are?”
May you like
Alexander’s eyes did not move.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s why we came with lawyers.”
