His hands trembled as he flipped through folders. Robert O’Hara, ever meticulous, had labeled everything with mechanical precision. He found his file—Lucas O’Hara—and opened it slowly. Pediatric records, check-ups, growth charts. Then… “Initial intake: approx. age 4.” And below it: “Birth hospital: unknown.” Lucas blinked. Read it again. His stomach dropped.
It didn’t make sense. His throat tightened as panic crept in. He yanked out Lucy’s file, flipping pages with shaking hands. Her file had everything—birth records, delivery time, a scan of her birth certificate. Hers was a life with a beginning. His was a file that started mid-sentence.