Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Harper

The room suddenly felt quiet. 

My eyes remained fixed on the birth certificate lying on the table.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Not even Noah.

Damian’s hand wrapped around mine. It was warm. Strong. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until that moment.

Finally I found my voice.

“What are you talking about?”

Noah leaned against the table. “The truth.”

“I already know the truth.”

His face said he disagreed. “No, Harper. You know what you were told.”

The words stung because lately I wasn’t even sure what that was anymore.

My mother had secrets. The Blackwoods had secrets. Everyone had secrets. Everyone except me. I was the only one in the dark about my own life.

Damian stepped forward. “Stop talking in riddles.”

Noah almost smiled. “You’ve always been impatient.”

“And you’ve always loved hearing yourself talk.”

Mason almost laughed. Almost.

Noah sighed. “Fine.”

He opened the file wider. Documents spilled out. Photographs. Medical records. Letters. Old reports. The more he pulled out, the worse I felt.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” I asked.

“Everything.”

I hated that answer.

“Be more specific.”

Noah looked right at me. “The man listed on your birth certificate isn’t your biological father.”

The silence was suffocating.

I stared at him. Waiting. Hoping he was wrong.

Then I looked at the document. The name meant nothing to me. I’d never met the guy. My mom barely talked about him. But hearing it said out loud hurt anyway.

“No.”

Noah didn’t push. Didn’t argue. For once he looked serious. “I’m sorry.”

The apology made it worse somehow.

I wrapped my arms around myself. “This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe. That’s why I brought proof.”

Damian looked like he wanted to throw him through a wall. I felt the same way. But I couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when everything seemed connected to my mother. To my past. To the Blackwoods.

Noah slid a photograph across the table.

I couldn’t breathe.

The woman looked exactly like me. Same eyes. Same smile. Same face. But the photo was old. Really old.

“Who is she?”

Noah took a second. “Her name was Isabelle Carter.”

The name meant nothing. I looked at Damian. He didn’t react.

“Should I know her?”

“No.”

“Then why show me?”

“Because she disappeared twenty-five years ago.”

Ice ran through my veins.

“Three months after she disappeared, your mother showed up pregnant.”

My heart actually stopped.

“No.”

“Yes.”

The realization hit instantly. It was terrible. Impossible. Terrifying.

I looked away and tried to think. I tried to breathe. I tried not to panic.

Damian moved closer to me. Noah’s eyes tracked him. Then me. Then our hands together.

A strange smile crossed his face. “You two really are acting like a real married couple.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can we focus?”

“I’m serious.”

“Noah.”

He held up his hands. “Fine.”

But the comment stayed with me. Because part of me knew he was right.

Something had changed between Damian and me. The fake marriage wasn’t fake anymore. Not really. Every day we acted more like the real thing. Breakfast together. Time with Lily. Late-night conversations. Inside jokes. Comfort. Trust.

Feelings.

Dangerous feelings.

I glanced at Damian. He was already looking at me. We didn’t look away.

Noah cleared his throat loudly.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” Damian said.

Mason actually laughed.

I almost smiled. Almost.

Noah pointed at the documents. “Back to the mystery.”

I sat down. My head was pounding. Too much information. Too many questions. Not enough answers.

“What are you actually saying?”

Noah got serious again. “Your mother’s past isn’t what you think.”

“And?”

“And somebody spent years covering it up.”

The room went quiet.

That part felt true. Because everything seemed to lead back to the same people. Richard Blackwood. Victoria Blackwood. The family. The lies. The secrets. The cover-ups.

Damian’s jaw clenched. “You think my father was involved.”

Noah laughed without any humor. “I don’t think so.”

His confidence bothered me. A lot.

“Then what do you know?”

He opened another file. Then another. Then another. Each one had the Blackwood name on it. Evidence. Records. Transactions. Private letters. Years worth.

My stomach twisted.

“How long have you been looking into this?”

“Six years.”

That shocked me. Six years wasn't a curiosity. That was an obsession.

Noah looked directly at me. “Your story was always connected to theirs.”

He sounded so convincing. Part of me believed him. Another part didn’t want to. The conflict was exhausting.

Then my phone buzzed. The sound cut through everything.

I looked at my screen. Mom.

My heart dropped. I hadn’t talked to her since the DNA report. Since the photos. Since everything fell apart.

“Answer it,” Damian said quietly.

I picked up.

“Mom?”

Silence. Then breathing. It was shaky. Uneven.

Fear shot through me. “Mom?”

Her voice was weak and terrified. “Harper.”

I stood up. “What’s wrong?”

More silence. Then a sob.

My blood went cold.

“Mom, talk to me.”

Finally she spoke. But her voice was different. Scared in a way I’d never heard before.

“They know.”

The room froze.

I pressed the phone harder against my ear. “Who knows what?”

She sobbed again. “The truth.”

My heart was racing now. “What truth?”

I heard a door slam behind her. Then a man’s voice. Deep. Dangerous. Familiar.

My stomach dropped. I knew that voice.

Richard Blackwood.

“Mom?”

She gasped.

Then whispered four words.

Words that shattered the room.

“He’s here with me.”

The call disconnected.

And Damian was already reaching for his phone.