Vanessa hesitated. “I was found on November third,” she said. “I do not know my exact birth hour. The orphanage recorded the date when they received me.”
Gregory closed his eyes. November third. The night of the crash. The night he buried his wife and the child he never met.
“Come with me,” he said suddenly. “We need to talk in private.”
Vanessa pulled back. “I want my necklace returned and I want to leave,” she said.
Gregory opened his wallet and laid a thick stack of bills on the nearest table.
“I will pay you twenty thousand dollars for ten minutes of conversation,” he said. “If you walk out that door now, I will still spend the rest of my life searching for answers. Choose wisely.”
Vanessa stared at the money, then at the man whose grief felt like a storm.
“Thirty thousand,” she said quietly. “And my necklace comes back to me after we speak.”
Gregory nodded once. “Agreed.”
He led her to a private lounge, locked the door, and paced while dialing a number.
“Dr. Callahan,” he said into the phone. “I need a DNA test tonight. Bring what you need. This cannot wait.”
When he hung up, he gestured to a sofa. “Sit,” he said.