PART 28 — The Children Behind the Glass

Dominic lunged.

Federal agents burst through the doors at the same second.

Father Michael did not resist.

That was the worst part.

He simply lifted his hands and smiled as Agent Morris pushed him against the wall and cuffed him.

“You’re too late,” the old man said.

Agent Morris grabbed his collar. “Where are the babies?”

Father Michael looked past him, directly at Sophie.

“She knows.”

Sophie’s stomach turned.

“No, I don’t.”

“You do,” he said. “You just haven’t remembered.”

Noah suddenly pointed toward the old delivery board mounted on the wall.

Names had been erased.

But not fully.

Beneath layers of dust, Sophie saw a familiar mark.

L1.

L2.

M1.

M2.

Then, below them, three new codes.

L3.

L4.

L5.

Noah whispered, “Lane.”

Sophie stepped closer.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

The three infants on the screen were not random.

They were registered under her line.

Not Moretti.

Lane.

Dominic saw her face change.

“Sophie.”

Father Michael laughed quietly.

“Vivienne believed the Moretti line held power. She was wrong. Alessia discovered it too late. The key was never Dominic’s blood.”

He nodded toward Sophie.

“It was hers.”

Sophie backed away.

“No.”

Father Michael’s voice sharpened.

“Why do you think Alessia watched you? Why do you think Leo mattered? Why do you think Noah survived? Why do you think Matteo responds to your voice?”

Dominic stepped between them.

“Stop talking.”

But Sophie heard the question anyway.

Matteo had stopped crying in Bellavita when she held him.

Lucia trusted her before Dominic.

Noah had been told she would come.

Alessia had known her.

Leo’s date opened the bloodline room.

Every thread had wrapped around her long before she entered Dominic’s world.

Father Michael lowered his voice.

“You were the origin child, Sophie. The one they lost control of. The one raised poor enough to be ignored, strong enough to survive, and grieving enough to be useful.”

Sophie felt like she might be sick.

Dominic turned on Father Michael.

“She is not useful.”

The old man smiled.

“Everyone is useful to someone.”

Then his watch beeped.

Agent Morris ripped it off his wrist.

Too late.

The live video changed.

The three infants’ cribs began moving.

Not physically.

The camera angle shifted as if the beds were being rolled down a corridor.

Sophie ran toward the screen.

“Where are they?”

Father Michael said nothing.

Noah stared at the video, breathing fast.

Then he whispered, “I know that hallway.”

Sophie turned.

“What?”

“At St. Raphael’s, there was a lower wing. They told us it was storage. But sometimes I heard babies crying through the vents.”

Dominic was already moving.

“Address.”

Agent Morris shouted orders.

Father Michael called after them, “You can save the babies, Sophie. But every door opens with a price.”

Sophie stopped at the doorway.

She looked back.

“What price?”

Father Michael’s eyes gleamed.

“The truth about your birth mother.”

Sophie froze.

Dominic said, “Don’t listen.”

But the old man continued.

“She didn’t abandon you. She sold you.”

Sophie’s face drained.

Father Michael smiled.

“And she is still alive.”

Noah grabbed Sophie’s hand.

“Don’t.”

His small voice pulled her back from the edge.

Sophie looked at Father Michael one last time.

“You keep trying to make love smaller than what you did to us.”

The old man’s smile faded.

Sophie lifted Matteo closer.

“You failed.”

They left him there in cuffs.

But as Sophie entered the SUV with Noah and Matteo, her phone buzzed.

One message.

Unknown number.

A photograph.

Three infants behind glass.

And standing beside them, older now but unmistakable from the old files, was a woman with Sophie’s eyes.

The message read:

Hello, daughter.