Her hands trembled as she brought it closer to the light.
“Ethan… look.”
He stepped beside her.
Printed clearly on the plastic tag:
“Baby Girl Moralis.”
“That’s not right,” Valerie whispered. “The birth certificate said ‘Morales’—my last name. This says ‘Moralis’… with an ‘i.’”
Their eyes met.
If the name was wrong, the document was fake.
And if the document was fake… everything was a lie.
Ethan immediately opened his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard.
Minutes later, his face went pale.
“Valerie… ‘Daniel Hayes’ doesn’t exist.” He swallowed. “His real name is Marcus Hale. He’s wanted for fraud… and human trafficking.”
The world tilted.
She had almost married a criminal.
And the babies?
They weren’t a “gift.”
They were stolen.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Ethan nodded. “Put it on speaker.”
Valerie answered, her voice shaking. “Hello?”
A cold, gravelly voice filled the room.
“You have something that belongs to us,” the man said. “Return the babies… if you want to stay alive. We know where you are.”
The line went dead.
Silence.
Heavy. Terrifying.
Ethan closed his laptop slowly, his jaw tightening.
“Pack what you can,” he said. “We can’t stay here.”
They fled that night.