<b>Chapter 163 </b>


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    <b>??</b><b>)) </b>


    Frank’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the caller ID, he frowned. His wife calling during work hours was never good news.


    “What now, Linda?” he answered, pressing one finger against his ear to block out the machinery’s roar.


    Linda’s voice came through sharp and clear. “You need toe home. Now.”


    “I’m working, Linda. The money you want-“.


    “This isn’t about money,” she cut him off, her voice unusually tense. “There’s someone here asking questions about


    Jade.”


    Frank’s heart stuttered. A cold sensation spread through his chest. “What kind of questions?”


    “Questions about whether she’s really our daughter.”


    <b>58 </b>


    His grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles turned white. “What the hell are you talking about? Who’s there?”


    “Some rich guy named Archer Sullivan. He’s got medical records, Frank. From themunity hospital. From when I gave birth.”


    Frank’s world tilted sideways. The floor seemed to swim around him, the noise fading as blood rushed in his ears. “That’s bullshit. Who says Jade isn’t our daughter?”


    “These records show-”


    ‘I don’t care what they show!” Frank’s voice rose, drawing nces from his coworkers. A nearby guy motioned for him to keep it down. “You carried her for nine months. You gave birth to her at Community Hospital. I held her in my arms when she was minutes old. I’ve raised her for seventeen years. She’s my daughter!”


    “Frank, juste home and look at these-”


    I’m not looking at any goddamn reports. Tell that man to leave our house. Now.” Frank’s breathing had be ragged, his free hand clenching and unclenching at his side.


    Frank hung up, his hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped the phone.


    Linda Morgan snatched the medical report from Emily’s hands, scanning the yellowed paper with narrowed eyes. The living room felt suffocating, with Archer Sullivan and his assistant watching her every reaction from the couch.


    “What does it say, Mom?” Emily asked, peering over her shoulder.


    17:14 Wed, Sep 24 <b>G </b>


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    58


    “This can’t be right.” Linda’s eyes darted across the page again, disbelief written across her features. The date on the report matched – eighteen years ago at Cloud City Community Hospital.


    She grabbed her phone and texted Frank: <i>If </i><i>you </i>don’te <i>home </i><i>now</i><i>, </i><i>I’ll </i><i>have </i><i>them </ie <i>to </i><i>your </i>work. <i>Your </i><i>choice</i>.


    Linda turned to Archer, her expression a mixture of shock and calction. “We should wait for my husband. He’s on


    his way.”


    When Frank’s truck pulled into the driveway, the muffler rattling ominously. He mmed the truck door and stormed up the cracked concrete path, his work boots heavy on the steps.


    “Get out of my house,” Frank demanded, his voice dangerously low.


    Archer Sullivan remained seated on their worn couch, his expensive suit looking absurdly out of ce among the shabby furniture. A leather portfolioy open on the coffee table between them. “Mr. Morgan, I understand this is difficult-”


    “You understand nothing,” Frank growled, grabbing a baseball bat from the corner where it leaned against a stack of old magazines. His knuckles whitened around the grip. “I said get out.”


    Archer stood slowly, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Frank’s rage. “I have reason to believe Jade Morgan might


    be my brother’s daughter.”


    “She’s My daughter!” Frank shouted, gripping the bat tighter, raising it slightly. The veins in his neck bulged with the effort of restraining himself. “I don’t know what game you’re ying, but you and your fancy suit can get the


    hell out!”


    Frank lunged forward, pushing Archer and his assistant toward the door. The assistant stumbled over a pile of shoes, nearly falling. Neighbors peeked through their curtains as themotion spilled onto the front porch, the afternoon sun highlighting the tension on every face.


    ‘Don’t think your money gives you the right toe into people’s homes and tear families apart!” Frank yelled, bat still raised, his face flushed red with anger. “Anyone who tries to take my daughter from me will regret it!”


    Linda stepped between them, her bony hands pushing against Frank’s chest. “Frank, stop it! Look at the papers!”


    She thrust the medical records at him, her long nails crinkling the edges of the paper. “The report says I had twins – a boy and a girl. One of them died.” Her voice cracked, mascara smudging as tears welled in her eyes. “No wonder 1 could never connect with that girl. She isn’t mine!”