PART 2 — THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Felicity stepped out of the black SUV as if she owned the entire world.
Her designer heels clicked against the cracked pavement of the rural shelter.
Behind her came two men in dark suits, each carrying a leather briefcase.
Josephine froze.
The twins were still sleeping against her chest.
I moved instinctively in front of her.
“Stay behind me.”
Josephine stared at my back.
“Bennett…”
“I said stay behind me.”
Felicity stopped ten feet away.
Then she smiled.
Not the nervous smile of someone caught doing something wrong.
The smile of someone who believed she had already won.
“Well,” she said. “This is touching.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You paid someone to erase Josephine’s hospital records.”
Felicity tilted her head.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Winston found the payment.”
Her smile disappeared for half a second.
Only half.
Then she recovered.
“Bennett, you hired a private investigator because you saw two babies and suddenly decided your ex-wife was innocent?”
I stepped toward her.
“Those babies are mine.”
The words echoed through the parking lot.
Josephine's eyes closed.
For the first time, her expression cracked.
Pain.
A year's worth of pain.
Felicity laughed softly.
“You don't even know that.”
I turned toward her.
“I know those children have my eyes.”
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“Then we'll take a DNA test.”
Felicity's face changed.
It was tiny.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
Fear.
For the first time since I had known her, Felicity looked afraid.
One of the attorneys stepped forward.
“Mr. Carter, we should discuss this privately.”
“No.”
I stared directly at Felicity.
“Whatever you have to say, say it here.”
The attorney's jaw tightened.
Felicity folded her arms.
“Fine.”
She looked at Josephine.
“You've been lying to Bennett for a year. Don't you think it's time you told him the truth?”
Josephine's face went pale.
I turned around.
“What truth?”
She didn't answer.
“Josephine.”
Her arms tightened around the twins.
Felicity smiled again.
“There it is.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“That look.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The look you always gave Josephine when you suspected she was hiding something.”
My stomach dropped.
Felicity knew exactly what she was doing.
She was trying to bring back the man I had been.
The suspicious husband.
The angry husband.
The man who had believed her instead of his wife.
I refused to give her that satisfaction.
“I'm not listening to you anymore.”
Felicity's smile vanished.
“Then listen to her.”
She pointed at Josephine.
“Ask her why she never told you about the twins.”
Silence.
I slowly turned toward Josephine.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Josephine?”
She looked down.
“I tried.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“I tried to tell you.”
“Then why didn't you?”
Her voice broke.
“Because every time I called, Felicity answered.”
I froze.
“She told me you didn't want to hear from me.”
“That wasn't true.”
“I know that now.”
“Josephine…”
“She said you had moved on.”
I shook my head.
“She told me you were getting married.”
Josephine looked at Felicity.
“And she told me that if I tried to contact you again, she'd make sure you never saw your children.”
My blood turned cold.
I looked at Felicity.
She didn't blink.
“She's lying.”
Josephine suddenly pulled a folded piece of paper from inside her coat.
Her fingers trembled.
“She left this at the hospital.”
I took it.
The paper was old.
Creased.
Yellow around the edges.
I unfolded it.
Three words were written across the center.
STAY AWAY FROM BENNETT.
Underneath was a signature.
Felicity Danforth.
My vision blurred.
Felicity stepped forward.
“That proves nothing.”
I looked at her.
“You threatened the mother of my children.”
“I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
She hesitated.
Josephine whispered:
“From the truth.”
I turned toward her.
“What truth?”
She looked at the twins.
Then at me.
“I didn't leave you because of the accusations.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“What?”
“I left because I was afraid.”
“Of Felicity?”
Josephine shook her head.
“Of what Felicity knew.”
Before I could ask another question, one of the attorneys stepped forward.
“Mr. Carter, we're here to deliver a legal notice.”
He opened his briefcase.
I barely glanced at the document.
“What is it?”
“A petition for emergency custody.”
My eyes snapped toward him.
“Custody?”
He looked at Josephine.
“Your former wife is currently considered an unstable parent due to homelessness, financial hardship, and documented psychological distress.”
I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“You destroyed her life and now you're using the destruction you caused against her?”
The attorney remained expressionless.
Felicity looked at me.
“She can't raise those children.”
I stepped closer.
“You're not taking them.”
Felicity's voice became colder.
“Actually, Bennett, I think you should read the last page.”
I grabbed the document.
My eyes moved across the final paragraph.
Then stopped.
My blood ran cold.
The petition wasn't filed by Felicity.
It wasn't filed by her brother.
It wasn't even filed by a government agency.
The petitioner was listed as:
BENNETT CARTER.
I stared at the page.
“What the hell is this?”
Felicity smiled.
“You filed it six months ago.”
“No, I didn't.”
“You did.”
“I never filed for custody.”
She looked at the attorney.
He handed me another document.
A signed authorization.
My signature.
My exact signature.
My stomach twisted.
“That isn't my signature.”
Felicity's expression softened.
“Of course it is.”
“No.”
I stared at the paper.
Someone had forged my name.
And suddenly I understood.
This wasn't about stealing Josephine's children.
It was bigger.
Someone had been preparing this for months.
Someone had planned for the day I discovered the twins.
Someone wanted me to look like the father who abandoned his wife and then tried to take her children away.
I looked at Winston's evidence folder.
Then at Felicity.
“You've been building a case against me.”
Her silence was enough.
I stepped closer.
“For a year.”
Nothing.
“You knew I'd find Josephine.”
Still nothing.
“You wanted me to find her.”
Felicity's eyes narrowed.
And then she said something that made the entire world seem to stop.
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
She glanced toward the twins.
“Those babies were never supposed to survive.”
Josephine gasped.
I felt something inside me break.
“What did you just say?”
Felicity's attorney immediately grabbed her arm.
“Enough.”
But Felicity pulled away.
She stared at me.
“You want the truth, Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask Josephine what happened the night she gave birth.”
Josephine suddenly stepped backward.
Her face had gone completely white.
“Don't.”
I turned toward her.
“What happened?”
“Bennett, please.”
“What happened that night?”
She shook her head.
“Not here.”
Felicity laughed.
“Tell him.”
Josephine's eyes filled with tears.
“Felicity doesn't know everything.”
That wiped the smile from Felicity's face.
Josephine looked at me.
“That's why she is terrified.”
I stared at my ex-wife.
“What don't I know?”
Josephine swallowed.
Then she slowly reached inside the plastic bag she'd been carrying.
She pulled out a small envelope.
She handed it to me.
My name was written across the front.
BENNETT CARTER.
My hands went numb.
“When did you write this?”
“Eleven months ago.”
“Why didn't you send it?”
“Because I couldn't.”
“Why?”
Josephine stared directly at Felicity.
“Because the man who was supposed to deliver it was found dead.”
Nobody moved.
The wind blew dust across the parking lot.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
An old photograph of Josephine standing outside a hospital.
She was pregnant.
And standing beside her was someone I recognized immediately.
My father.
My heart stopped.
I flipped the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
My father's handwriting.
I knew it because I'd seen it thousands of times.
The message contained only one sentence.
Bennett, if you are reading this, don't trust Felicity. She knows what happened to your mother.
I looked up.
Felicity had stopped breathing.
For the first time, she wasn't pretending.
She was terrified.
I whispered:
“What happened to my mother?”
Felicity took one step backward.
Josephine grabbed my arm.
“Bennett, we have to leave.”
“Why?”
Her eyes moved toward the road.
A black sedan had just stopped outside the shelter.
The doors opened.
Two men stepped out.
Then a third.
Winston suddenly called my phone.
I answered.
His voice was urgent.
“Bennett, listen to me carefully.”
“What?”
“I found another file.”
“What file?”
“Your mother's death certificate.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“What about it?”
“It's been altered.”
I looked at Felicity.
Winston continued.
“Your mother didn't die from a heart attack.”
Silence.
“What are you saying?”
“She was poisoned.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Winston…”
“And Bennett?”
“Yeah?”
“Her death occurred three days after Josephine was admitted to the hospital.”
I slowly looked at Josephine.
She was crying.
Felicity was backing toward her SUV.
I suddenly understood.
The marriage.
The stolen money.
The necklace.
The fake affair.
The erased hospital records.
The twins.
My mother's death.
They weren't separate events.
They were pieces of the same plan.
And someone had spent an entire year making sure I never put them together.
I looked at Felicity.
“You knew.”
She said nothing.
“You knew my mother was murdered.”
Her eyes hardened.
“I didn't kill her.”
“But you know who did.”
Felicity's lips parted.
Before she could answer, a gunshot cracked through the air.
Everyone screamed.
The shelter's front window exploded.
Josephine dropped to the ground, shielding the twins.
I threw myself over them.
Another shot tore through the parking lot.
The three men near the black sedan scattered.
Felicity screamed.
“Get me out of here!”
I looked toward her.
For one second, our eyes met.
And I saw something I had never seen in Felicity before.
Pure terror.
Not fear of me.
Fear of someone else.
Then Winston shouted through my phone:
“BENNETT! DON'T LET FELICITY LEAVE!”
I looked at the SUV.
The engine roared.
Felicity was trying to escape.
I grabbed Josephine's hand.
“Stay here.”
“Bennett, no!”
But I was already running.
The SUV accelerated toward the road.
I sprinted after it.
And as it disappeared around the corner, I saw something fall from Felicity's open window.
A small black notebook.
I picked it up.
On the first page was a list of names.
My mother's name was at the top.
Josephine's was second.
Mine was third.
And underneath mine was one final name.
A name I hadn't seen in fifteen years.
My father's.
Beside it were two words:
STILL ALIVE.
