Chapter 6 - The Weight of a CryThe sound of my son's cries cut through the tense atmosphere of the drawing room like a beacon of light in a pitch-black storm.

The housekeeper handed the bundled blanket over to the nearest female CID agent, who cradled the infant gently and brought him straight toward me. My hands shook as I reached out, my combat-hardened fingers trembling for the first time in years as I took my boy into my arms.
Leo was barely a month old. He had Emily’s dark, expressive eyes and a tuft of fine, curly hair. When I pressed him against my chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his tiny heart, a dam broke inside my soul.
"I've got you, buddy," I choked out, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Daddy’s here. I'm not going anywhere."
Elena watched us for a moment, her stern features softening with quiet empathy before she turned her attention back to the unfolding crime scene. She stepped over to the captive medical professional who had been dragged up from the basement lab.
"State your name and credentials," Elena commanded, her voice dropping into its interrogative authority.
"Dr... Dr. Nathan Vance," the man stammered, sweating profusely under the cold stare of the federal agents. "I'm a disgraced general practitioner. I lost my license five years ago. Mrs. Harrington—she hired me to handle the... the transition."
"You performed an unauthorized, illegal medical procedure in a non-sterile basement environment resulting in the termination of a healthy mother," Elena stated flatly. "You're looking at consecutive life sentences without parole, Dr. Vance. Unless you start talking right now."
Vance’s knees buckled, and he dropped heavily onto the hardwood floor, sobbing hysterically. "She said it was a quiet relocation! She told me the patient had agreed to sign away custody and leave the state voluntarily! I swear I didn't know they were going to harm her! When complications arose during the forced labor induction, Mrs. Harrington refused to let me call an ambulance!"
Across the room, my mother scoffed, her voice dripping with absolute contempt. "Coward. You got paid handsomely, Nathan. Don't act like you had a conscience."
"That's enough," Elena ordered sharply, gesturing to the agents. "Cuff him and prep all suspects for immediate transport to the federal detention facility in Atlanta. We have a full confession, physical evidence, digital server logs, and an eyewitness account."
The agents moved with brutal efficiency. Caleb was hauled to his feet first, his head hanging low in defeat. My mother was next, her expensive designer suit looking absurdly out of place as industrial zip-ties clicked tightly around her wrists.
As they led her past me, she paused for a fraction of a second, looking down at the baby in my arms.
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"You'll never survive without our money, Daniel," she whispered, her voice a poisonous hiss. "The estate, the accounts, the contracts—they're all frozen under federal investigation now. You're completely broke."
"I have my son," I replied, looking her dead in the eye. "And unlike you, my soul isn't stained with blood. Get her out of my sight."
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