Chapter 3 - Sins Of The Father
I found Caleb exactly where I knew he would be. There was an abandoned hunting cabin deep in the woods, a place our father used to take us when he felt particularly paranoid about being watched. I drove my SUV over the overgrown dirt road, the branches scraping violently against the windows.
When I kicked the wooden door open, Caleb was sitting at a dusty table, a loaded hunting rifle resting across his knees. He looked like a wild animal, his eyes bloodshot, his clothes wrinkled, and his hands shaking uncontrollably. When he saw me, he did not lower the weapon.
"You should not have come here, Sarah," Caleb rasped, his voice completely hollow. "They are going to find you. They are going to find all of us."
"Put the gun down, Caleb," I demanded, stepping fully into the cabin and slamming the door behind me. "You left your wife. You left your newborn son. You made me carry a child for nine months just to abandon him like a coward in a hospital room. I read the files. I know about the syndicate. I know what our father did."
Caleb let out a bitter, broken laugh, dropping his head into his hands. "You do not know the half of it, Sarah. You think they swapped the genetics at the clinic? You think this is some elaborate plot to steal a baby?"
He looked up at me, tears streaming down his rugged face. "Our father did not just run away from the syndicate. He stole their most valuable possession. He stole the heir."
I stared at him, my mind struggling to process his words. "What are you talking about?"
"The baby in the photograph," Caleb whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of a secret he had carried for two decades. "The child our father was ordered to kill. He couldn't do it. But he also knew he could not leave the baby in the foster system. The syndicate would find him. So, he took the baby. He raised the baby as his own son."
The room started to spin. I grabbed the edge of the wooden table to steady myself, my breath catching in my throat. I looked at Caleb, really looked at him. I looked at his dark hair, the exact same shade as little Leo. I thought about how our father always treated Caleb differently, keeping him hidden, teaching him how to fight, how to shoot, how to survive.
"You," I breathed out, the absolute shock paralyzing my vocal cords. "You are the heir. You have the mark."
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Caleb slowly reached up and unbuttoned his flannel shirt, pulling the fabric aside to reveal his left shoulder. There, resting just beneath his collarbone, was the exact same deep purple eclipse birthmark that decorated Leo skin.
"I found out the night he died," Caleb cried, burying his face in his hands. "He told me everything right before his heart stopped. I spent my entire life terrified that they would find me. When Leo was born, when I saw the mark passed down to him, I knew the bloodline was too strong. If I stay, I put a target on his back. By leaving, I protect him."
