C10 The boy with his eyes

CHAPTER 10: The Boy With His Eyes

Alexander stared at the photograph on his phone.

The little boy couldn't have been older than five. He stood outside a private school, wearing a navy-blue uniform and carrying a small backpack. Beside him, a woman held his hand, her face turned slightly away from the camera.

But Alexander barely noticed her.

He was looking at the boy.

Those eyes.

He knew those eyes.

Not because he had seen them somewhere before, but because he saw them every morning in the mirror.

His father's eyes.

The same deep gray that had been passed down through generations of the Hayes family.

Alexander's fingers tightened around the phone.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"Alexander?"

Elizabeth's voice pulled him back to the kitchen.

He quickly locked his screen, but not before she noticed the change in his expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

She gave him a look that made it clear she didn't believe him.

"You've been staring at that phone for almost a minute. Your face looks like you've just discovered someone buried a body in your backyard."

"That's a very specific accusation."

"Would you prefer that I say you look like someone has threatened your entire family?"

His expression hardened.

Because that was exactly what had happened.

He glanced toward Grace, who was busy arranging strawberries into a smiley face on her plate.

"I need to take a call," he said quietly.

Elizabeth followed him with her eyes as he stepped into the living room.

Something was wrong.

And after everything that had happened, she had learned to trust that feeling.

---

Alexander called Daniel immediately.

"Where was this photograph taken?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that, sir. The message came from an unregistered number, and the image contains no location information."

"Find the school."

"I'm already working on it."

Alexander looked at the photograph again.

"Daniel, I want to know who the boy is, who his mother is, and how he is connected to my family."

"Understood."

"And find out whether Richard has any connection to that school."

There was a pause.

"Do you suspect your brother?"

"I suspect everyone who has a reason to keep me from discovering the truth."

Alexander ended the call.

His mind was racing.

A second maternity file.

A missing patient name.

A doctor who had disappeared from the hospital.

And now a child who looked remarkably like him.

The possibilities were endless, and none of them were reassuring.

Was the boy related to Grace?

Was he another child born that same night?

Or was someone deliberately using a photograph to manipulate him?

Alexander had built his business empire by refusing to make decisions without evidence.

He wasn't about to abandon that principle now.

But the message had achieved one thing.

It had made the mystery personal.

---

When Alexander returned to the kitchen, Elizabeth was helping Grace put her dishes in the sink.

"Mommy, can we go to the park today?" Grace asked.

"Perhaps this afternoon, sweetheart."

"Can Alexander come?"

Elizabeth glanced at him.

He waited for her answer.

"That depends on whether Alexander has important billionaire things to do," she said.

Grace frowned.

"Like counting money?"

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes."

"That sounds boring."

Elizabeth laughed before she could stop herself.

Alexander looked at her, and for a brief moment, the tension in his shoulders eased.

"I'll see what I can do," he told Grace.

She beamed.

"Good. You can push me on the swings."

"I think I can manage that."

Grace hurried toward her bedroom to find her favorite jacket.

As soon as she disappeared, Elizabeth turned to Alexander.

"Show me."

He didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"Elizabeth—"

"Whatever you received on that phone, show me."

He studied her face.

She wasn't asking out of curiosity. She was asking because she had already learned what it meant to be kept in the dark by the Hayes family.

He unlocked his phone and handed it to her.

Elizabeth read the message first.

Then she opened the photograph.

Her expression changed.

She enlarged the image and stared at the boy.

"Who is he?" she whispered.

"I don't know."

"Why does he look like you?"

Alexander had been asking himself the same question.

"I intend to find out."

Elizabeth looked at the photograph again.

"How old is he?"

"Approximately five."

Her hand trembled slightly.

"The same age as Grace."

"Yes."

She slowly lowered the phone.

"Alexander, what if that second file isn't a coincidence?"

He stepped closer.

"What are you thinking?"

She looked toward the hallway to make sure Grace wasn't listening.

"What if someone else had a child that night? Someone connected to your family?"

"That's what I'm trying to establish."

"But the message says your mother did something to protect you."

Alexander's jaw tightened.

"I saw that."

"What could Victoria possibly be protecting you from?"

He didn't answer immediately.

He had spent years believing his mother was simply determined to control his future. He knew she could be manipulative, but he had never imagined she might be involved in something as serious as a concealed birth record.

Unless the truth was worse than he thought.

"Whatever happened," he finally said, "I'm not going to let anyone use Grace to threaten us."

Elizabeth looked at him carefully.

"Us?"

He held her gaze.

"You and Grace."

Something softened in her expression, but the fear remained.

"Please don't make promises you can't keep."

"I'm not promising that nothing bad will happen. I'm promising that I won't walk away when it does."

She had no immediate answer.

And perhaps that was because, for the first time, his words sounded less like a billionaire issuing an order and more like a man trying to make amends.

---

Across Manhattan, Richard Hayes received a call from his mother.

"Tell me you haven't done anything foolish," Victoria said without greeting him.

Richard stood beside his office window, watching traffic move through the streets below.

"Good morning to you too, Mother."

"This is not a joke."

"Neither is your habit of calling me every time Alexander discovers something you wanted buried."

Victoria went silent.

Richard smiled without humor.

"So you know."

"What has he found?"

"A photograph."

"What photograph?"

"A little boy. Around five years old. Dark hair, gray eyes. Someone sent it to him with a warning about the second maternity file."

Victoria's breathing changed.

Richard noticed immediately.

"Mother?"

"Destroy it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Whatever photograph he received, find a way to destroy it. And make certain Alexander doesn't reach Dr. Whitmore."

Richard's smile disappeared.

"You know where the doctor is?"

"That is irrelevant."

"No, Mother. It is very relevant."

"Richard, listen to me. Your brother must not discover what happened at that hospital."

Richard moved away from the window.

"What exactly happened?"

"I have told you everything you need to know."

"No, you've told me enough to make sure I do your bidding. There is a difference."

Victoria's voice became colder.

"Be careful, Richard."

"Of what? Discovering that my own mother has been lying to me?"

"You have benefited from my decisions."

"And perhaps that is why I'm still listening."

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Victoria lowered her voice.

"If Alexander discovers the truth, everything your grandfather built could be destroyed."

Richard looked down at his desk.

"Is this about the inheritance?"

"It's about the family."

He laughed bitterly.

"Whenever you say that, someone ends up paying for your mistakes."

"Do not contact the doctor. Do not approach the child. And do not do anything that might draw attention to you."

The call ended.

Richard stood motionless.

For years, he had believed the secret concerned Alexander's inheritance.

But his mother's reaction had told him something important.

Whatever was hidden in those hospital records, it frightened Victoria more than losing control of Hayes Corporation.

And Richard intended to discover why.

---

That afternoon, Daniel called Alexander with an update.

"I found the school," he said. "It's a private institution outside Boston. The photograph appears to have been taken recently."

"Can you identify the boy?"

"Not conclusively. The school has strict privacy policies, and I haven't obtained any verified information about his family."

"What about the woman?"

"Still investigating."

Alexander stood beside his office window.

"Have you located Dr. Whitmore?"

"Yes. He operates a private clinic in Massachusetts. But there's a complication."

"What complication?"

"He left St. Vincent's shortly after the night in question. His departure records are incomplete, and someone requested that his old files be sealed."

"Who?"

Daniel hesitated.

"Victoria Hayes."

Alexander closed his eyes briefly.

His mother.

Again.

"Get me the doctor's contact information," he said.

"I already have it."

"Arrange a meeting."

"There's one more thing, sir."

Alexander waited.

"Someone called the clinic this morning asking whether anyone had requested the old maternity records."

"Who made the call?"

"We're trying to establish that."

Alexander's expression darkened.

Someone was watching his investigation closely enough to anticipate his next move.

He needed to move carefully.

"Daniel, arrange the meeting for tomorrow. And keep it confidential."

"Understood."

After ending the call, Alexander opened the photograph one more time.

The boy was smiling at something outside the frame.

Alexander wondered whether he liked pancakes.

Whether he laughed loudly.

Whether he had a favorite toy.

Whether he knew anything about the family whose secrets might have shaped his entire life.

Then another thought struck him.

If the boy had been born on the same night as Grace, perhaps their lives had been connected long before either of them could understand it.

And perhaps the truth would change everything Alexander believed about his daughter.

---

That evening, Alexander took Grace to the park as promised.

Elizabeth walked beside them, keeping a watchful eye on the people around them.

Grace ran ahead toward the swings, her laughter carrying across the playground.

"Push me higher!" she called.

Alexander gently pushed the swing.

"Not too high. Your mother will blame me if you end up in the next state."

Grace giggled.

"Mommy says you're dramatic."

Elizabeth folded her arms.

"I said no such thing."

"You said he talks like the people in movies."

Alexander looked at Elizabeth.

"Did you?"

"I may have made an observation."

He smiled.

For a few minutes, the world felt almost ordinary.

Then Grace turned toward him.

"Alexander?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Do you have any other children?"

Elizabeth went still.

Alexander's hands stopped moving against the swing's chains.

The question was innocent. Grace had no idea what had happened that morning or why the photograph had unsettled the adults around her.

"Why do you ask?" he said gently.

Grace shrugged.

"My friend Lily has a little brother. She says brothers and sisters are annoying, but she still loves him."

Alexander exchanged a glance with Elizabeth.

"I don't know the answer to that question yet," he said honestly.

Grace considered this.

"Well, if you do have another child, I hope they're nice."

Elizabeth felt a sudden ache in her chest.

Alexander looked at Grace, wondering how he could explain a mystery that he barely understood himself.

"That's a very kind thing to say."

Grace smiled and returned to swinging.

Elizabeth moved closer to Alexander.

"You can't let this investigation consume you," she whispered.

"I won't."

"And whatever you discover, Grace comes first."

He looked at her.

"Agreed."

She studied his face, searching for the arrogance and certainty she remembered from years ago.

Instead, she saw a man who was afraid of losing something he had only just begun to understand.

For the first time, she wondered whether the mystery of the second child might hurt Alexander as deeply as it frightened her.

---

At 10:40 that night, Alexander received another message.

This time, there was no photograph.

Only a sentence.

If you want to know who the boy is, ask your mother why she ordered the transfer.

Alexander read it twice.

Then he called Victoria.

She answered after several rings.

"Alexander? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, Mother. Something is very wrong."

"What happened?"

"I want to know about the second maternity file at St. Vincent's."

The silence that followed was brief, but unmistakable.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dr. Whitmore's records say otherwise."

"Alexander, you are allowing strangers to manipulate you."

"Then tell me the truth."

"There is no truth to tell."

"Did you authorize the transfer of a baby five years ago?"

Victoria's voice sharpened.

"Who told you that?"

Alexander felt a chill run through him.

She had answered his question without realizing it.

"You knew."

"I have no idea what you're suggesting."

"Then this should be easy. Tell me why your name appears in the doctor's records."

Another silence.

When Victoria spoke again, her voice was unusually quiet.

"Some things are better left alone."

Alexander's anger surged.

"Not this time."

"You have no idea what you're risking."

"Then explain it to me!"

For a moment, he thought she might finally speak.

Instead, she said, "Stay away from that doctor, Alexander."

"Why?"

"Because if you discover what happened that night, you may lose more than you ever imagined."

The line went dead.

Alexander stared at his phone.

His mother had spent years teaching him that information was power.

Now she was terrified of the information he might uncover.

He opened the photograph of the little boy again.

Then he looked at a picture of Grace.

Two children.

One missing maternity file.

A transfer authorized by his mother.

And a secret someone was willing to threaten his family to protect.

Alexander slipped the phone into his pocket and looked out into the darkness beyond his windows.

Tomorrow, he would meet Dr. Whitmore.

And this time, he would not leave without answers.