Chapter 3 - The Hidden Room in Georgetown
By 9:00 p.m., a torrential spring rain was pouring over Washington, D.C., washing the pavement of Georgetown in shimmering reflections of streetlights.
Nolan stood under a dark umbrella in a narrow alleyway behind a row of historic brick townhouses near the canal.
Marcus Vance—a former federal agent turned elite private security consultant—stepped out of a black SUV parked in the alley, handing Nolan a thick manila folder.
"She’s staying on the second floor of 1428 O Street," Marcus reported, pointing to a lighted window above an antique clock shop. "She arrived in town three days ago from a small coastal town near Portland, Maine. She’s staying at a short-term rental owned by her cousin."
Nolan gripped the folder tight against his chest. "Did you find out about the children?"
Marcus sighed, a look of profound sympathy crossing his hardened features. "Their names are Leo, Mason, and Maya. They were born on November 14th, three years ago, at a community hospital in Bangor, Maine. Nolan... there is no father listed on any of their birth certificates."
Nolan’s eyes stung with hot tears. November 14th. Exactly nine months after his last night with Paige in their tiny apartment in Foggy Bottom—the night before his mother had shown up with legal documents claiming Paige had taken money to leave.
"Did Paige ever take money from my family's trust?" Nolan asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the falling rain.
Marcus pulled a secondary paper from his coat pocket. "I ran a deep forensic audit on your family’s trust fund records from four years ago, Nolan. Two hundred thousand dollars was indeed withdrawn from the Whitaker estate account in July of that year. But it didn't go to Paige Ellison."
Nolan’s head snapped up. "Where did it go?"
"It was transferred directly into an offshore account registered to a shell company in the Cayman Islands," Marcus revealed. "A shell company owned by Arthur Mercer's personal attorney."
A cold, terrifying chill ran down Nolan’s spine.
"They framed her," Nolan whispered, the horrific truth sinking into his marrow. "My mother and Arthur Mercer manufactured a fake payoff to make me think Paige was a gold-digger, while they threatened her to make her run away."
"You need to see the rest of this, Nolan," Marcus said, gesturing toward the stairs leading up to the second-floor apartment. "She’s alone up there right now. The kids are asleep."
Nolan didn't wait another second. He bounded up the narrow wooden fire escape stairs, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
He reached the heavy green door of Apartment 2B and knocked softly.
Silence.
He knocked again, firmer this time. "Paige. It’s Nolan. Please open the door. I know about the birth certificates. I know about Maine."
Inside the apartment, footsteps paused.
Slowly, the brass lock clicked. The door opened three inches, kept on a heavy security chain.
Paige stood in the dim light of the entryway. She had changed into an oversized grey sweatshirt, her hair damp from a shower. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying.
"Go away, Nolan," she whispered desperately. "Please. Just go back to Sloane. Go back to your family."
"Paige, look at me," Nolan begged, pressing his hand against the wood of the door. "My mother lied to me. Arthur Mercer lied to me. I never believed you took that money, Paige! I looked for you for six months until my mother showed me bank receipts that looked real! I was broken! I thought you abandoned me!"
Paige’s breath hitched. She stared at him through the narrow gap in the door, her brown eyes searching his face with intense, trembling disbelief.
"You... you thought I took money?" Paige whispered, her voice cracking. "Nolan... your mother came to my apartment with two armed men from Mercer’s security team! She told me if I didn't pack my bags and leave D.C. within two hours, she would use her family's political power to shut down my brother's medical practice and destroy my father's business!"
Nolan felt as if a physical blade had been driven into his chest.
"She threatened my family, Nolan!" Paige sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I was twenty-four years old! I was six weeks pregnant with triplets, scared out of my mind, and your mother told me you knew all about it and had agreed to let them buy me off!"
"No... no, God, no!" Nolan choked out, tears bursting from his eyes as he gripped the doorframe. "I didn't know! I swear on my life, Paige, I didn't know!"
Paige unlatched the security chain with trembling hands.
The door swung fully open.
Nolan stepped inside, immediately opening his arms. Paige didn't pull away this time. She collapsed into his chest, burying her face against his wet coat, sobbing violently as four years of agonizing, buried trauma tore out of her soul.
May you like
Nolan wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair, holding her as if he would never, ever let her go again.
"I’m sorry," Nolan wept into her hair, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her temple. "I’m so sorry, Paige. I’m so sorry I wasn't there to protect you."
