Daniel found him in the parking garage.
"I need your help."
Marcus looked at his face.
"What's happened?"
"Rebecca Mitchell has disappeared."
Marcus immediately became serious.
"Arthur's daughter?"
Daniel nodded.
"And I think Captain Hayes is involved."
Marcus looked around before opening his car door.
"Get in."
They drove several blocks before Marcus finally spoke.
"There's something I never told you."
Daniel turned.
"What?"
"Your father came to see me three days before he died."
Daniel frowned.
"Why would he visit you?"
"Because I was working security at Saint Mary's Hospital at the time."
Daniel stared at him.
"You were involved in the investigation?"
"Not officially. I was twenty-five. I had just joined the department."
Marcus explained that he had been assigned to guard a storage facility connected to the hospital. During that assignment, he discovered boxes containing medical records that were never entered into the official system.
He had informed Thomas Carter.
"Your father told me to keep quiet until he could find proof."
"What happened?"
"Two weeks later, he was dead."
Daniel gripped the steering wheel.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Marcus looked at him.
"Because I received a photograph of my daughter at school with a message saying she would be next."
Daniel fell silent.
Marcus had a twelve-year-old daughter.
He had spent years protecting her without telling anyone why.
"Do you still have the records?" Daniel asked.
Marcus nodded.
"I kept one document."
He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
It contained several names and dates.
One name appeared three times.
Dr. Samuel Whitmore.
The former director of Saint Mary's Hospital.
"Where is he now?" Daniel asked.
"Retired. Living outside the city."
Daniel studied the document.
Then he noticed something strange.
A name had been written in the margin.
Daniel Carter.
Beside it was a date.
The day Daniel was born.
And beneath that:
Twin transfer approved.
Daniel felt the room spinning.
"Why is my name here?"
Marcus took a deep breath.
"Because your brother wasn't the only one who was supposed to disappear."
Daniel looked up.
"What?"
Marcus pointed to another line.
Second infant retained under temporary identity protection.
Daniel read it twice.
"Temporary identity protection?"
"Your father may have discovered the transfer before it happened. He might have arranged for you to remain with your family."
Daniel remembered the letter.
His father had been afraid of losing him.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
That evening, they drove to Dr. Whitmore's retirement home.
The former hospital director lived in a quiet neighborhood surrounded by trees.
The house looked ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Daniel knocked three times.
No answer.
Marcus tried the handle.
The door opened.
Inside, the television was still playing.
A cup of coffee sat on the table.
But the house was empty.
Daniel walked toward the hallway.
A photograph hung on the wall.
It showed Dr. Whitmore standing with a group of medical professionals outside Saint Mary's Hospital.
Richard Hayes was among them.
And standing beside Hayes was Thomas Carter.
Daniel examined the photograph closely.
On the back was a handwritten date.
October 17.
The same date Rebecca had mentioned.
Then Marcus noticed a sound coming from upstairs.
Footsteps.
Someone was moving around.
They drew their weapons and climbed the stairs.
"Police! Come out with your hands visible!"
A man appeared at the top of the staircase.
He was holding a small revolver.
Marcus shouted.
"Drop it!"
The man hesitated.
Then a loud crash came from the bedroom.
Daniel turned.
A second person jumped through the rear window.
Marcus pursued him, while Daniel confronted the armed man.
"Put the weapon down!"
The man slowly lowered it.
Daniel recognized him.
It was Dr. Whitmore.
But the elderly doctor was not looking at Daniel.
He was staring at Marcus.
"You shouldn't have brought him here," Whitmore whispered.
Daniel frowned.
"Who?"
Whitmore's eyes filled with fear.
"Your father."
Daniel stepped forward.
"My father is dead."
The doctor shook his head.
"No. I mean the man who made him disappear."
Suddenly, Whitmore collapsed.
A small dart protruded from his neck.
Daniel rushed toward him.
But the doctor managed to whisper one final sentence.
"Find the boy... at the house with the blue door."
Then his eyes closed.
Outside, Marcus returned.
The second suspect had escaped.
But he had dropped something.
A photograph.
It showed a young man standing outside a house with a blue door.
On the back was a name.
Michael.
Daniel looked at Marcus.
For the first time, they both understood.
They were no longer investigating a cold case.
They were searching for someone who might be living only a few miles away.
And someone was willing to kill to make sure they never found him.
The house with the blue door stood at the end of a narrow street in an old residential neighborhood.
Daniel and Marcus arrived shortly after midnight.
The neighborhood was quiet, with only a few lights glowing behind the curtains.
Daniel held the photograph in his hand.
The house looked exactly as it had twenty years earlier.
A small garden.
A wooden fence.
And a faded blue door.
"Are you sure about this?" Marcus asked.
"No."
Daniel stepped out of the car.
"But I'm not leaving without answers."
They approached the entrance.
Daniel knocked.
Nothing happened.
He knocked again.
A light switched on inside.
Then the door opened slightly.
A young man appeared.
He was approximately twenty-eight years old, with dark hair and a thin scar running along his left cheek.
"Can I help you?"
Daniel looked at him.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
The resemblance was undeniable.
The same eyes.
The same shape of the jaw.