Chapter 4 - The Ghost in the Woods
The cold air hit my face like a slap as I stepped off the back porch into the muddy tree line. The wind roared through the high pine trees, whipping sleet against my coat.
I carried a heavy flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness, illuminating the swirling rain and ancient oaks that bordered my property.
"Pendelton!" I shouted into the wind. "I know you're out here!"
Only the howling storm answered.
I walked deeper into the woods toward the old stone gazebo that my father had built forty years ago near the edge of the property line. It was a forgotten structure, covered in ivy and rot.
As I approached, the flashlight beam caught a frail, hunched figure sitting on the cold stone bench inside the gazebo.
He was wrapped in a soaked wool coat, his hair thin and white, his hands trembling as he clutched a leather bag to his chest. He looked like a ghost—wrinkled, hollow-eyed, and broken by age and guilt.
Dr. Arthur Pendelton.
"Julian," he rasped, his voice thin and papery, broken by severe coughing fits. "You... you brought the light."
"Why, Arthur?" I demanded, standing at the entrance of the gazebo, the flashlight beam locked on his face. "My father treated you like a brother! He funded your research, paid for your children's education! How could you sell my life to Vance Carter?"
Pendelton let out a bitter, shuddering laugh, wiping rain and blood from his lips. "Your father... was a great man. But Vance... Vance was a monster. Twelve years ago, Vance found out about my son's illegal drug debts. He threatened to have my grandchildren killed, Julian! Killed!"
"So you destroyed my life instead?" I spat, stepping closer. "You made me believe I was broken! You let me live in a lie for over a decade!"
"I hated myself every single day!" Pendelton wept, burying his face in his cold, wet hands. "Every time I saw you with Clara... knowing she was poisoning your mind, watching you grieve for a family you thought you could never have! It ate my soul, Julian!"
"Then why do this now?" I asked. "Why bring a newborn to my gates in the middle of a storm?"
Pendelton reached into his bag with shaking hands and pulled out a thick envelope wrapped in plastic.
"Because I am dying, Julian," he whispered, holding the envelope out toward me. "Pancreatic cancer. I have weeks left. Nine months ago, when I realized I had nothing left to lose, I used my old access codes to retrieve your last remaining sample from the Geneva repository. I hired a surrogate—a good, kind young woman named Sarah who was desperate for money to pay for her mother's life-saving surgery."
My heart skipped a beat. "Is she alive? Vance said she died in childbirth!"
"Vance lied!" Pendelton shouted fiercely. "He wanted you to think the line ended with the baby! Sarah is alive! She’s being held at Saint Mary’s Private Care facility under Vance’s guard! They told her the baby died at birth to keep her quiet!"
Tears pricked my eyes as a sudden, overwhelming wave of hope washed over me. "She’s alive?"
"Yes," Pendelton wheezed, coughing violently as he collapsed back onto the stone bench. "This envelope contains the legal surrogacy contracts, her identity documents, and the medical records proving the baby’s parentage. Take it... take it and save her, Julian."
I rushed forward, catching the old man before he slid onto the cold floor. His hands were ice-cold, his breathing rapid and shallow.
"Arthur," I whispered, holding his shoulders.
"I’m sorry, Julian..." he choked out, staring up at the stormy sky with fading eyes. "I couldn't fix the twelve years I stole from you... but I gave you your son. Protect him... protect Sarah..."
May you like
His hand slipped from my coat, and his eyes went glassy.
Dr. Arthur Pendelton was gone.
