Chapter 6 - THE THREE NAMES ON THE TRANSFER LIST
“That's tomorrow night.”
My voice sounded distant.
Agent Reyes immediately closed the laptop halfway, shielding the sensitive records from anyone passing the room.
“Yes.”
“Where are they planning to take the children?”
“We haven't confirmed the destination.”
I stared at her.
“Three four-year-olds are on a secret transportation list, and you don't know where they're supposed to go?”
“Evelyn, I know this is frightening.”
“Frightening?”
I stood.
“Those children finally started speaking yesterday. Their mother is missing. Somebody threatened me for helping them. And now there's a plan to make them disappear?”
Agent Reyes waited until I finished.
Then she spoke calmly.
“The children are already under protection. We're changing their location and reviewing everyone who knows where they are.”
I sat down again.
My hands were shaking.
“Does Adrien know?”
“He's being informed.”
“What about Victor?”
“We're investigating his involvement.”
I wanted to shout.
I wanted someone to do something immediately.
But I was beginning to understand that real investigations didn't move like the dramatic stories people watched on television.
They required evidence.
Witnesses.
Warrants.
And the ability to act without warning the people responsible.
A mistake could cost Celeste her life.
By the time I saw Adrien again, the children had been moved to another protected residence.
He looked as though he hadn't slept.
He walked directly toward Agent Reyes.
“Tell me the records are wrong.”
“I can't.”
“My children are four years old.”
“I know.”
“They haven't even started kindergarten.”
His voice cracked.
“I know,” she repeated.
Adrien turned away.
He pressed one hand against the wall and remained there for several seconds.
When he finally spoke, his voice was almost unrecognizable.
“Celeste warned me.”
Nobody answered.
“She said someone was using the foundation to hurt families. I told her to stop interfering.”
He turned toward us.
“She begged me to audit the transportation company.”
Agent Reyes looked at him carefully.
“When?”
“About three weeks before she disappeared.”
“Do you have records of those conversations?”
“Some emails. Maybe messages.”
“We'll need them.”
Adrien nodded.
For the first time, he didn't ask what the FBI would give him in return.
He simply agreed.
Later, while the children were eating dinner in the protected residence, I sat beside Sophia on the living-room carpet.
Dr. Morgan was nearby.
Luca was stacking wooden blocks.
Matteo was arranging toy cars in a neat row.
Sophia had returned to her drawing.
The blue door.
The red dot.
The woman standing behind it.
I watched her place a little gray rectangle beside the door.
“What is that?” I asked gently.
Sophia looked up.
“Car.”
“Is it a car?”
She shook her head.
Then she pointed toward the gray rectangle.
“Big car.”
I remembered the Mercy Transit records.
“Like a van?”
Sophia nodded.
I felt a cold pressure in my chest.
But I didn't ask another question.
Dr. Morgan had warned us that frightened children could begin agreeing with adults simply because they wanted the conversation to end.
Their memories needed to be approached carefully.
Instead, I handed Sophia another crayon.
“Would you like to draw the rest?”
She drew a white cross on the side of the gray rectangle.
An ambulance.
I glanced toward Dr. Morgan.
She had noticed, too.
Sophia placed the crayon down.
Then she leaned against me.
“Mommy... inside.”
Her voice was tiny.
I felt tears burning behind my eyes.
I wanted to tell her we'd found her mother.
I wanted to promise that everything would be all right.
But I couldn't.
So I said the only thing I knew was true.
“We're trying to find her, sweetheart.”
She rested her head against my arm.
And I stayed beside her until she fell asleep.
That night, Adrien asked to speak with me.
We stood in a quiet hallway outside the children's rooms.
“I need to ask you something,” he said.
“All right.”
“Why do they trust you?”
I looked at him.
“I don't know.”
“You've known them for barely twenty-four hours.”
“I know.”
“I've spent two years taking them to doctors. Specialists. People who charged me more money than you probably earn in a decade.”
His voice carried no arrogance now.
Only confusion.
“And you answered five taps on a tray.”
I studied him.
“Maybe they weren't waiting for the right doctor.”
He looked at me.
“Then what were they waiting for?”
“Someone who answered without asking them to explain first.”
Adrien lowered his gaze.
I continued.
“They needed you to see they were frightened, not broken. You wanted them to speak because you were desperate to hear their voices. But maybe they needed to know you'd listen even if they never said another word.”
He stood motionless.
Then he nodded slowly.
“I never thought about it that way.”
For the first time, I saw something resembling humility in Adrien Bellandi.
Not the polished manners of a wealthy man.
Not the generosity of someone accustomed to buying gratitude.
Actual humility.
It didn't excuse what he had done.
But it was a beginning.
The next morning, Agent Reyes brought new information.
Investigators had traced the upcoming transportation authorization to a Mercy Transit subcontractor.
The transfer was scheduled for Saturday at eleven o'clock at night.
The destination code referred to a decommissioned shipping facility near the Hudson River.
And the approving account was associated with Victor Soren's administrative office.
“Can you arrest him?” I asked.
“We're building the case.”
Adrien stepped forward.
“You have his name. You have his records.”
“We also need to find Celeste before anyone realizes how much we know.”
He looked away.
Agent Reyes laid a printed manifest on the table.
I recognized the triplets' names.
But there was another entry beneath them.
One that hadn't appeared in the first report.
A fourth passenger.
The name was ANNA CALDER.
The false identity used for Celeste.
I looked at Agent Reyes.
“They're planning to move the children and their mother together?”
“That's one possibility.”
Adrien reached for the paper.
Then stopped.
Beside Celeste's name was a special instruction.
May you like
It was only four words long.
FINAL TRANSFER. NO RETURN.
Related Stories
