Author's note ~~

Last chapter ended with Grace's POV. This chapter starts where chapter 21 left off. This one took me a long time to write, it's REALLY LONG, and lots of details to think about. I may still need to come back and edit, we'll see.

Chapter twenty-three

Christian POV

Listening to Gail's retelling of what happened after the storm passed was tough. I wholeheartedly identified with Carrick; I imagined him rushing to his wife's bedside. As frightening as I imagined the actual moment of her death must have been, and aside from the shock of her untimely passing, the worst part had to be the moments leading up to it.

According to Gail, Grace was semi-conscious on the ambulance ride. Years later, Carrick would say that his only consolation was that at least he got to say good-bye. When Gail got to this part of the story, memories of that day started coming back to me in fragments. How could I have forgotten the anguish, my desperation in wanting to climb in the ambulance, and Elena's cruel arms dragging me back into the house? The more I screamed, the angrier she became.

While I was able to have some compassion for what my five-year-old self had gone through, I still wanted to close the lid on painful emotions.

Shifting gears, I asked Gail what she remembered about the funeral. She said Elena didn't even attend. She'd traveled abroad and didn't return to Seattle until the following year.

"For a while, Carrick avoided her. But eventually, that woman found a way to weasel herself into his life," Gail said with shocking bitterness. But then again, she'd always been rather fond of my father. "She started coming over to the house with her young daughter a couple of times," she paused, " no husband."

"How old was Stephanie then?"

"Hmm...she must have been about a year old... I remember babysitting her...she'd just started taking her first steps."

"What about Elena's husband?" I asked. I couldn't remember his name; he was a man of forgettable features.

Gail shrugged. "As far as I know, she came back to Seattle alone, the husband was in and out of her life," she paused. "This may sound a little crazy, but I have a theory," she said, rather cryptically. I nodded for her to continue. "I think Elena may have hired a surrogate to carry the child for her. That's why she went abroad so she could later pass the child as her own."

"It's not a crazy idea at all," I replied, giving the matter further thought. All of a sudden, things started clicking into place. "What happened after the funeral? I wondered. "When did Carrick decide to give his daughter up for adoption?"

Gail gave the question some thought. "I remember Carrick calling me the day after your mother passed. He was disoriented, after leaving the hospital, he'd slept in the car."

I nodded slowly. This meant I had stayed under Elena's care for longer than a day. No wonder I had abandonment issues. First Ella; then Grace, and finally Carrick.

"When he got back to the house, he didn't want to see the baby," she went on. "He told me he'd asked Elena to handle your sister's adoption proceedings, and never looked back...at least not until last year."

"Wait. Let's backtrack a minute." Was it possible that the truth had been staring them in the face all along? If Elena was barren, wouldn't she have wanted to keep the baby for herself?

Even though I could hardly blame Carrick for his decision to give up his daughter, he must have been out of his freaking mind!

"What if Elena never contacted child protective services, and kept the child?" I wondered, and Gail's mouth dropped open. It would have been all too easy for her to draft the papers and give them to my distraught father to sign. All too easy, indeed.

Gail shook her head in disbelief. "No...that's can't be!"

"Think about it, Gail. No wonder we could never find her," I paused, "why every private investigator we hired kept coming across dead ends."

"I just...never thought," she stammered, her expression troubled.

"I'm going to see Stephanie this afternoon," I said, recalling my intention of contacting Stephanie after the hearing. Except that now, I had good reason to believe that Stephanie was Carrick's long lost daughter. If this was the case, there was a good chance I could turn her against Elena. It was a long shot, but well worth trying.

"But first, I need to make sure Ana will be okay in my absence," I added. Ana's welfare was my first priority.

Gail was relieved at the change of subject. After assuring me she'd be happy to keep Ana company, she went to prepare our breakfast, which included Ana's favorite pastries and a generous portion of fresh fruit.

Ana had been lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The moment I came into the room, she took one look at the tray and shook her head no.

"C'mon, Ana, you got to eat something," I sat on the edge of the bed, positioning the tray across her lap. "Please, sweetheart. You got to keep your strength."

"What for?" Ana lamented. Her voice sounded hopeless, desolate, and small. "She's gone! I have nothing, nothing!"

I looked down at our breakfast. The bacon and scrambled eggs looked good; however, my appetite had vanished. "Don't say that, Ana. What about us?"

"Us?" She questioned. She gave me a confused look as if she suddenly forgot her English. "Don't you understand? I cannot be happy, not while my baby is missing!"

"Ana," I took her hand in mine. "Starving yourself is NOT going to bring her back!" I tried reasoning with her. But she seemed beyond consoling, tears streamed down her cheeks.

I hated seeing her like this. "Listen, baby, I love you more than life itself," I told her, my voice breaking a little. Ana's eyes filled with more tears. "We're going to get through this together," I put the tray away and took her into my arms, and she willingly buried her head in my shoulders. "We will get her back, I promise you."

"But...you never wanted her," she said without a trace of recrimination, rubbing more tears from her eyes.

I let out a long exhale. This was not the first time we've had this conversation, but she obviously needed me to reassure her once again.

"Things will be different now, I promise," I told her, which seemed to comfort her some. "I'm not proud of how I acted these past few months. I was consumed with jealousy, thinking that keeping the baby meant a connection to your ex that could never be broken."

Ana's face fell. "Nothing will ever change that," she sniffed.

"I don't care about that now," I said, wiping her tears with my thumbs. "When you disappeared, the only thing I could think about was you... the thought of losing you forever terrified me."

Her gaze softened at my words. "But the baby..."

"That baby is part of you," I reassured her, "and that it's good enough for me. Loving you means loving her too."

I held her in my arms for a long time. At last, she relented, and I was able to convince her to eat something. I told her that I'd been waiting to have breakfast with her, and she was immediately concerned about me not eating.

"I need to run some errands," I told her after we were done eating.

She was quiet, her eyes connecting with mine. "Don't go," she breathed, looking suddenly much older. "Christian, please! I don't want to be alone!" She cried, flinging her arms around me, holding me tight.

Later that afternoon, Ana settled down for a nap, a habit she'd kept throughout her pregnancy, and I seized the opportunity to slip out of the house. I wasn't leaving her completely alone. Gail and Taylor were home. And I left her a note, explaining the reason for my absence. I was sure that upon my return, Ana would understand that time was of the essence.

...

I arrived at Stephanie's apartment with a game plan. She welcomed me with a warm smile, and we made small talk. Despite the lawsuit, she was set on convincing me she was my friend. The perfect opportunity presented itself for me to steer the conversation to the topic of adoption.

"Nope, I certainly never felt the need to look up my birth parents. All I know is that Ella is dead, and that's good enough for me. How about you?" I asked, and her brows rose in surprise.

"Wh-what?"

"Oh... I thought you knew...Elena is not your biological mother," I spoke as if this was an indisputable fact.

"No!" she shook her head. "You're lying, you're making things up!"

Her voice was tinted with confusion as if she suddenly recognized I held all the cards.

"I'm not lying," I told her with a straight face. "I found out through a very credible source," I said vaguely, making eye contact, I couldn't let her see I was bluffing.

"Who told you this?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential," I replied nonchalantly. I could tell that despite her outrage, I had struck a nerve. This wasn't the first time Stephanie had considered this.

"I know your game, you're trying to drive a wedge between me and my mother."

"Why don't you ask her?" I insisted. "Have you ever seen your birth certificate?"

She blinked at me. "I was born in France."

"I'm sure they have birth certificates there too," I smiled a little, and she glared back at me. "Look, Steph, I know what you're thinking. I have a vested interest in destroying Elena. And that's true, but you're not Elena. You and I don't need to be in a feud."

Stephanie gave me a dubious look. "I still think you're lying." She paused. I could see the wheels in her head turning. "By the way, sorry to hear about your baby's kidnapping."

"How did you know?" I asked suspiciously.

It was all over the news," she quickly replied. It was true. We'd decided to involve the media to improve our chances of recovering the baby in the shortest time possible.

She gave me a furtive glance and looked away. This must be such a terrible ordeal for your poor wife. How's she doing, by the way?"

I exhaled deeply. "She's the strongest person I know."

"Tell her I'm really sorry."

I noticed Stephanie was avoiding looking me in the eye. "Well, I got to get going," I said after casually glancing at my watch. It was time to move on to the next part of my plan. "It's getting late, and my wife is expecting me home."

"Well, I sure hope I will get to meet her soon."

"Yes, of course," I replied vaguely. "Before I go...I got something for you," I said reaching into my pocket, producing a rectangular velvet box in an unhurried manner. "Happy belated birthday!"

Stephanie shook her head, perplexed.

"Wasn't it a few days ago?" I asked, pretending to be genuinely confused.

"But... my birthday was months ago!"

I scratched the back of my head while making steady eye contact. "I think you and my sister share the same birthday."

"Wh-what?"

"You share the same birthday because you are the same person," I ventured, pausing to let this bit of information sink in. Another long-shot worth exploring.

"That's absolutely ridiculous!" Stephanie exclaimed, outraged.

"Is it? Is it really that ridiculous?" I countered. I could see the wheels in her head turning. " I don't think you know the whole story. Did you know Elena was with Grace when she delivered her baby?"

Stephanie gave me a blank look. Clearly, she had no idea what I was talking about, so I gave her a brief summary of the events.

"My mother never underwent fertility treatments," she asserted with finality. 'Your source' didn't get that part right!"

At this point, it became clear I was getting nowhere. I knew better than to argue.

"Aren't you going to open your gift?"

Stephanie reluctantly opened the box, "Nice pen," she said without much enthusiasm.

I smiled inwardly. My gift, a seemingly ordinary pen, was harmless enough as to not arouse any suspicion. It was the perfect surveillance device; its espionage military-style technology made it possible to download recordings remotely.

"I suppose one can never have too many pens..." She said while mindlessly tucking the pen deep inside the outside pocket of her purse.

I turned as if to leave. "Call me if you need to talk."

Hopefully, Stephanie would be curious enough to ask Elena for her birth certificate. Now that I had planted the seed of doubt in Stephanie's mind, the path was wide open for me to return at a later time. If all went well, Stephanie would confront Elena.

I smiled at her as I grabbed the door handle. I was about to step out into the hallway when a sudden knock took us both by surprise.

"Stephanie, darling! It's me!"

Elena's voice thundered through the door.

Stephanie and I exchanged looks. I could tell at once, the last thing she wanted was for her mother to find me here. So I pretended I was just as concerned about Elena seeing us together when in reality, this was the perfect opportunity for me to record them.

I wordlessly pointed to her coat closet, and she nodded in agreement. I thanked my lucky stars. Even with the door closed, I was within hearing range of whatever happened in the room, and at the same time, close enough to activate the remote control.

I put my ear to the door. Even though their voices were quiet, I could tell they weren't discussing anything important. This coat closet was so crammed with coats, it reminded me of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I felt the back of the closet and was relieved to find that there was a solid wall behind the twenty thousand winter coats. I waited until their voices escalated an octave higher to press the button and start recording the conversation.

"What is it, darling? You look a little frazzled," I heard Elena say.

A short hesitant silence followed.

"I'm tired, I was about to take a nap."

"And since when do you take afternoon naps?"

"I suppose I'm still jet-lagged."

"We have dinner reservations at your favorite place."

Another silence. "Hmm...maybe not tonight," Stephanie said, her voice sounding a little stand-offish. "Mom...now that you're here...I need to see a copy of my birth certificate."

"Hmm...well, that's an unusual request. I believe I got a copy somewhere," she answered vaguely. "What do you need it for?"

"Mom...why didn't you ever tell me you went through fertility treatments?" Stephanie asked after a long stunned silence.

"Who told you such a thing?"

"So...you're not denying it?"

"I don't understand what this is about," Elena said in an exasperated voice.

"Mom? Why can't you just answer the damn question?"

"Tell you what... Why don't we talk about this over dinner?"

"I want us to talk about it now!"

"I just remembered I need to run an errand. Why don't we regroup in an hour or so? It'll give you a chance to rest," Elena cunningly replied. "Oh, almost forgot. Jane is meeting us for dinner."

I could almost see Stephanie's stunned expression in the heavy silence that followed. I imagined Elena, her smile slipping from her face like the sun sinking beneath the earth.

"Steph? What's wrong? You look as pale as a ghost!"

"I'm okay...I'm-" Stephanie stuttered.

"I thought you would be glad to see her; she won't be in town very long, you know."

"It's not that...hmm... I think I just need to lay down for a bit." Long pause. "I'll see you later, mom."

In the next breath, I heard the front door closing sharply, and the puzzle pieces clicking into place. Stephanie's rush in getting rid of Elena; the three women were in it together.

A thousand questions flowed through my mind, but right now, I needed to stay focused and play the cards right. One mistake on my part, and it could all start crumbling down.

...

"Did you hear anything in there?" Stephanie mumbled the second I came out of the closet, looking distraught.

"Not much," I easily lied, you were both talking very quietly."

Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief. "She didn't deny it, you know... the fertility treatments. I was expecting a story about me being her miracle child...But no, which makes me wonder what else she's not telling me,"

I sat beside her on the couch. "There's one way to find out," I put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you ask your father?"

Stephanie's eyes lit up. "Of course," she mumbled, grabbing her cell phone. It occurred to me I didn't know much about her father, except he was a man of a few words. But then again, English was not his first language.

"Dad? It's me. Yes, I'm okay. I just need to ask you something very important," Stephanie said into the receiver, and I listened attentively, playing the role of a caring friend. I was glad this conversation was in English and not in French. "I just need you to send me a copy of my birth certificate." Long silence. "What? But I thought...Mom always said I was born in France. Can't you just order a copy?"

My ears perked up, but unfortunately, Stephanie was speaking in monosyllables. And I couldn't make out what Stephanie's father was saying.

Stephanie finished the call with a bewildered expression. "I can't believe this!"

"What happened? What did he say?"

"He told me this long story," she rolled her eyes, "something about me being born while they were traveling through Italy," she shook her head. "Lots of useless details that don't match anything mom has ever told me. I think he's lying...I think they're both lying," she ran a hand through her hair. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe!"

I pulled out my wallet to show Stephanie a wallet-sized picture of Grace. "Look, you have the same nose, the same eyes." They weren't two peas in a pod, but there was definitely a resemblance. No wonder Elena had kept Stephanie hidden in plain sight all these years!

Stephanie's hands shook as she handed me back the picture. "No! I don't know...how can you be so sure?"

"I am sure," I replied resolutely. Ever since my conversation with Gail, this morning, bits and pieces from the past had started to slowly come back to me. It's natural for some childhood memories to fade over others, but perhaps we still retain the ability to bring them back at a moment's notice.

The morning after Grace gave birth, my five-year-old self heard the sound of a baby crying. I followed the trail to the garage to investigate and saw a baby bundled in a car seat. When I went to tell Carrick, he and Elena were together. Carrick turned away from Elena and the baby she carried in her arms. I was confused. I couldn't figure out how, in the blink of an eye, the baby could have traveled from the garage to the living room, unless it had supersonic powers.

I tried to tell Carrick, but he acted as if he couldn't hear me. I'd never seen my father cry; it frightened me. I can't remember what happened next, except watching Elena take the baby away without another word.

That's all I remember. But it's clear to me what happened. In his grief over losing Grace, Carrick wasn't himself. Perhaps, he never even signed the papers, something he regretted years later when he was not able to find his daughter.

"My mother died on the way to the hospital," I told her. There was a catch in my voice. I swallowed the tears back, recalling the moment I learned she was gone. For months, I'd refused to believe someone as beautiful and sweet as my mom could be dead. I held on to the belief she would be coming back any day now. I continued looking for her, night and day wandering from room to room looking for her. Sometimes, I would end up finding Grace in one of the rooms, her arms wide open. Overcome with relief, I'd jump into her arms, and she'd hold me tight. I promised myself, this time, I was never going to let her go.

Once, when I used to live with Ella, she took me to a pool and left me unattended. It all happened so fast. My terrorized little body kicked and frailed, unable to break the surface. For a millisecond, I felt the horrible reality of what it felt to drown.

That's what it felt waking up to my new reality, except that this time, there was no kind hand pulling me out of the water.

Stephanie asked to look at Grace's picture again. "I don't think we could ever be sure," she conceded softly, biting her trembling lip. "Both Grace and Carrick are gone and there are no surviving blood relatives," she went on before I could comment. "I think part of me did always believed Elena was not my real mother."

I stared back at her in surprise. "Before he passed, Carrick had his DNA stored in a blood bank. He signed up for this believing that his daughter-I trailed off. "The bottom line is that he wanted you to have access to your genetic history one day."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Honestly, I was surprised at myself here. Most of my life, I'd felt 'less than.' But it didn't need to be that way. Even if this woman was a Grey by birthright, it didn't change my identity. I was still Christian Grey, the son of Grace and Carrick Grey.

"Please don't hate me," she mumbled, her face suddenly filled with guilt and conflicting emotions. "I've done some horrible things!" She exclaimed with a haunted expression.

"What could be so terrible?" I questioned, putting a friendly hand over her shoulder, swallowing my anger at her for whatever role she'd played in Elena's schemes.

"It's nothing really," she shook her head, suddenly moving away from me. "I'm imagining things, maybe I'm coming down with something," she answered vaguely, lowering her gaze, "I think you should go."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving you like this, I care about you, Steph," I told her. "Just tell me what's troubling you."

My words didn't have the desired effect on her. She stood up, marched to the front door, and opened it wide. Her eyes then narrowed in anger when I made no attempt to leave.

"I'm not leaving," I challenged her, "not until you tell me what's going on."

"Get out!" She suddenly yelled, her face red and angry.

I stood up but made no attempt to leave. This infuriated her further, and she started hitting me in the chest. I grabbed her wrists to stop her.

"What's wrong with you? You're acting like a damn lunatic!" I spat.

"And you! Stop acting like my mother!"

"How am I acting like your mother?!

"You're not listening to what I want! I told you to leave!"

Right then, we heard the ringing of a phone. The sound was coming from her purse, which was sitting on the coffee table.

Stephanie reached for her phone; after glancing at the called ID, she quickly dropped it back in her purse.

"You're not going to answer that?"

"Telemarketers, " she mumbled, not meeting my gaze.

"Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically when her phone wouldn't stop ringing. "Here, I'll show you how to get rid of them," I moved forward, and she retreated back, the action knocking her purse off her hands. We both watched the contents spill onto the floor.

My eyes zeroed in on her phone, which had landed on the floor, facing up.

Stephanie moved to retrieve her mobile, but it was too late; I had already seen the caller ID.

My eyes stared in disbelief at the screen, and it all suddenly clicked into place, as if a new circuit in my brain's fuse box had been flipped, suddenly illuminating the connections.

I quickly grabbed the phone right out of Stephanie's hand, but whoever was on the receiving end of the line hung up at the sound of my voice. I redialed again with the same exact result. I turned to Stephanie, who was staring at me wide-eyed, frozen in place.

"Call her back!" I demanded, handing her the phone. But she continued to stare at me, weighing her options. "You were on it, too, weren't you? The Buchanans and Elena? You're going down for this one, unless you do the right thing, and return the baby to her mother. Immediately!"

"I...I don't know! I don't know what you're talking about!" She exclaimed lamely, even though we both knew she was lying. "I have nothing to do with this, I swear! I wasn't even in the country when the baby disappeared!"

"What is your connection to Jane Buchanan?"

"She's Elena's niece," she sniffed. "You got to believe me, I knew nothing of their plans until the day of the hearing. I had nothing to do with any of it, I swear!" she reiterated, sobbing openly now.

"Call her!" I demanded. And when she didn't move, I grabbed her by the shoulders. "Do it! I yelled, and she continued sobbing hysterically.

Her wails were like screeching chalk. I released my grip, and her sobbing gradually diminished.

"Once the baby is back safely, I will make sure you won't do jail time for aiding and abetting a crime," I told her, even though this did NOT mean I held her blameless. Clearly, Stephanie had played a role in Elena's schemes. But right now, the only thing that mattered was getting Ana's baby back.

Stephanie dialed Jane's number: hook, line, sinker.

"Sh-sh, make her think you're just stopping by for a visit," I whispered.

I listened to Stephanie's side of the conversation as she made plans to meet the Buchanans. I was relieved to hear the shifty couple had not taken the baby abroad; their hideout was only five hours away.

I pictured how the rest would play out and let out a long exhale. Taylor and I would handle this without getting the police involved.

Author's note~~

I got the next chapter of my other story almost ready. It's been a while, but family life has been crazy busy!