Chapter 6 - The Digital Match
Leah clicked the deadbolt open, turning the brass handle with her left hand while keeping her right arm locked securely around her son.
The heavy wooden door creaked inward, revealing the dark silhouette of a woman standing on the moonlit porch. Simone wore a simple black trench coat, her dark hair pulled back into a practical ponytail, entirely stripped of the polished, untouchable socialite veneer she had worn in the hospital room.
Without a word, Simone stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind her and locking it securely. She scanned the dusty living room with sharp, experienced eyes before turning her gaze to Leah.
“You brought the bassinet,” Simone noted, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Good. We need to move before dawn. Nathan’s brother Brandon works for the state telecommunications board—he can trace landline pings within a forty-mile radius if we stay in one place too long.”
“How did you find us?” Leah asked, setting the baby back down in the bassinet and gesturing toward the old wooden table where the unlisted landline sat.
“Mae gave me the address before she shifted her shift at the hospital,” Simone explained, walking over to the kitchen counter and setting down a heavy leather backpack. She unzipped it, revealing a rugged military-grade laptop, several encrypted burner phones, and a portable satellite hotspot. “Mae and I have been coordinating an internal resistance network inside Briar Glen for six months. We were waiting for the right mother with enough backbone to carry the evidence out.”
Leah crossed her arms, looking at the former socialite with newfound respect. “You weren't just a patient.”
“I was a ghost looking for an opening,” Simone corrected, pulling up a chair and plugging the USB drive into her laptop. A series of green command lines scrolled rapidly across the dark screen before opening a decrypted database labeled Caldwell-Prescott Asset Management & Foundation Archives.
“Look at this,” Simone muttered, clicking on a folder marked 2026-Active Cases.
Leah leaned over the screen. Listed neatly in rows were names, dates of birth, hospital admission codes, and financial transfer receipts.
Case #412: Sarah Jenkins. Status: Discharged / Terminated via Psychiatric Hold. Child re-registered under surrogate trust.
Case #419: Leah Carver. Status: Pending Transfer to Rural Evaluation Facility. Child designated for secondary adoption placement.
Seeing her own name in cold, digital print made Leah’s breath hitch. It was all there—meticulously documented, filed away like inventory in a warehouse.
“They treat us like cattle,” Leah whispered, fury rising in her throat.
“Worse,” Simone replied, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “They treat us like liabilities. But look at the secondary ledger attached to your husband’s personal account.”
Simone clicked a sub-file bearing Nathan’s name. A series of scanned bank statements appeared, showing massive wire transfers moving from an offshore account in the Cayman Islands directly into Nathan’s personal portfolio over the last three years.
“What is that money?” Leah asked, squinting at the figures. “Nathan’s salary at the firm isn't that high.”
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“That’s not salary, Leah,” Simone said grimly. “That’s hush money. Nathan’s firm handles legal compliance for Doreen’s foundation. Every time a mother’s rights were terminated under questionable circumstances, Nathan signed off on the municipal injunctions. He wasn't just a passive son looking the other way—he was an active legal architect of the entire child-trafficking scheme.”
The words hit Leah like a physical blow. The man she had slept beside, the man who had promised to protect her and build a future with her, wasn't just a weak-willed corporate drone influenced by a dominant mother. He was a willing participant in the destruction of families for profit.
