She Begged for Milk, Then He Tried to Take the Baby

Chapter 3: The Child They Buried Alive

Gabriel forced the door open the moment the lights failed.

Ellie screamed and grabbed the lamp from the side table, ready to swing it, but he caught her wrist before she could bring it down.

"Listen to me," he said. "If Lady Ashford's men are here, we have minutes at most."

Noah's crying filled the apartment.

Ellie pulled free and backed away. "You said you weren't here to hurt him."

"I am not. I am trying to stop the people who will."

He looked toward the half-open window and cursed under his breath. Then he crossed the room, shut it, and pulled the curtain closed.

Ellie hated that he moved as if he belonged there, but part of her already knew he was telling the truth. Her mother had hidden too many things for this to be a simple mistake.

Gabriel turned back to her. "Tell me exactly what your mother said before she died."

Ellie swallowed. "She said Noah wasn't really my brother."

For the first time, Gabriel looked shaken.

"She said he belonged to a rich family who wanted him gone. She said if anyone ever saw the birthmark on his shoulder, I had to keep running."

Gabriel closed his eyes for one brief moment. "Then she told you enough to keep you alive, but not enough to explain it."

He took a slow breath. "Noah is my brother's son. My older brother Daniel and his wife died the night Noah was born. Or that is what my family told me. They said the baby was stillborn and buried with them."

Ellie stared at him.

"Then why is he here?"

"Because someone lied."

Gabriel opened his wallet and pulled out an old photograph. It showed a pregnant woman standing beside a smiling man. Ellie recognized the woman immediately. It was the same face as the framed picture Noah's blanket had been wrapped around in their closet.

"That's my mother," she whispered.

Gabriel nodded grimly. "And the man beside her is my brother Daniel."

Ellie could barely breathe. "Then... who am I?"

A heavy thud sounded in the hallway.

Another one followed.

Then a woman's voice drifted through the door, cool and elegant.

"Gabriel," she called. "Bring me my grandson, and I may still let the girl live."