CHAPTER 86: IS THIS A DEAD END??

Eleanor’s POV

The Evergreen Hospital loomed in front of me, a stark, white building against the bright morning sky. My stomach was a tangled knot of nerves.

When i woke up I’d seen a string of bragging texts from Roxy about her second-place finish in the race last night, complete with a lot of creative cursing about the competition being "way too serious."

I’d managed to text back a quick congratulations before she’d shifted gears, her messages turning furious as she demanded details about what happened at the estate. I’d told her which hospital Mira was in and she should greet Mira for me that I had to go check on something else, cutting the conversation short before she could ask more questions.

And now, here I was.

I looked at the message i had gotten from Kayden an hour back.

The appointment have been set. 10 am.

I had typed back a quick Thank you and a simple thumbs-up emoji appeared in response.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the rotating glass doors into the bustling lobby. The air smelled of antiseptic and floor wax. People moved with purpose—nurses wheeling patients, visitors clutching flowers, staff in scrubs rushing down corridors.

I felt completely out of place, a fraud with a secret mission.

My palms were sweating as I approached the front desk, my heart hammering against my ribs. This was it.

"I have an appointment with Dr. Evans," I told the woman at the front desk, my voice coming out a little too high.

She clicked a few keys on her computer, her eyes scanning the screen. "Eleanor Moore?" she confirmed. I nodded. "Right. He’s expecting you. Third floor, office 312. The elevators are just down that hall to your left."

"Thank you," I managed, my legs feeling like jelly as I walked away.

The elevator ride to the third floor was a blur. I found office 312, took a deep, shaky breath, and pushed the door open. A receptionist sat at a desk inside the small, quiet waiting area. Another door, presumably leading to the doctor’s private office, was closed behind her.

"Hi, I’m Eleanor Moore. I have a 10 AM appointment with Dr. Evans."

The woman smiled politely. "Of course. I’ll let him know you’re here. Please, have a seat."

I sank into a chair, clasping my hands together in my lap to stop them from trembling. This was it. The moment of truth.

A moment later, the receptionist emerged. "You can go in now."

I stood up, my legs still unsteady, and walked to the door, giving a timid knock before pushing it open. A man who looked to be in his late forties sat behind a large, tidy desk. He had a kind, professional smile.

"Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

I sat, my back ramrod straight.

"You don’t have to be nervous," he began in a soothing tone. "I can guess this might be your first pregnancy? Or perhaps it was... unexpected?"

"Ummm, that’s not it," I said quickly.

Oh, for Moon’s sake, Beatrice chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcastic humor. How are you supposed to get knocked up when you run screaming from the three perfectly good, devastatingly handsome mates trying to fulfill your every dirty fantasy? The only thing you’re pregnant with is denial, and it’s not a good look.

I gritted my teeth and ignored her.

The doctor leaned forward, his expression concerned. "Are you experiencing any discomfort, then? Any issues you’re worried about?"

"That’s not it either," I said, my voice tight with frustration. Could he just let me speak?

He leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Then what can I help you with? To secure an appointment with me on such short notice suggests the matter is quite serious."

I let out a sigh of defeat. This wasn’t going how I’d planned at all. I pulled out my phone, pulling up a still frame from the video.

"I actually came to find another obstetrician. He was practicing here over twenty years ago. He’s not listed on the hospital’s website anymore, and I was hoping you might know him, or know what happened to him."

The man took my phone, his eyes scanning the photo. For a split second, his face went grim, a flash of something—shock? fear?—before he smoothed his expression into professional neutrality.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled.

"It’s from a home video," I explained. "The truth is, that doctor delivered me. He helped my mother give birth."

He looked up, his gaze sharpening. "And why are you looking for him now?"

"Because I believe the woman who gave birth to me wasn’t my biological mother," I said, the words feeling both terrifying and liberating to say out loud. "I was switched at birth."

His expression turned deadly serious. "Are you sure about that? Have you confirmed it?"

"Yes," I said, with more confidence than I felt. I didn’t need a DNA test. The fact that I could sprout claws and had a wolf in my head while my "parents" were utterly human was confirmation enough.

He handed the phone back to me, his movements stiff. "I’m sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t know that man."

He was lying. I could see it in the tightness around his eyes, the way he wouldn’t meet my gaze. "Please," I pressed. "Just his name. Do you know his name?"

"Is this the only reason you booked this appointment?" he asked, his voice turning cold. "If so, I must ask you to leave. There are people with actual medical needs waiting."

The dismissal felt like a physical blow. "I’m sorry," I mumbled, standing up. "I just... I want to find my real family. I think that doctor holds the answer to my questions. Surely you must have heard of him."

"He never worked here, i have not seen this man in this hospital at all." he stated flatly, also rising from his chair. "That’s why you won’t find him in our records. You’ve wasted your time. Perhaps you should take this to the police."

He was ushering me toward the door, his body language making it clear the conversation was over. He opened the door and addressed his receptionist. "Please see Ms. Moore out."

The receptionist gave me a polite, impersonal smile and guided me out of the office, closing the door firmly behind me.

I leaned against the cool wall in the hallway, my shoulders slumping. Dr. Evans definitely knew something.

I slumped against the wall, defeat washing over me. Then, a sound pricked at my ears—a low murmur from behind the closed office door. My enhanced hearing now latched onto it. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but i felt curious.

I leaned closer, my ear touching the wood.

"...been a long time," Dr. Evans was saying, his voice tense. A pause. "No, listen. I just had a... a weird encounter at the office with a woman." Another pause. My breath hitched. "She was looking for Dr. Silas."

Dr. Silas. So that was his name. I knew Evans had lied.

I heard him let out a frustrated sigh. "She thinks she was switched at birth. That he was involved. Could it be a coincidence?"

Coincidence? What coincidence?

He was quiet for a moment, listening to the person on the other end. His next words turned my blood to ice.

"Yes, I’m sure Silas is dead," he hissed, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "He doesn’t exist. I made sure that man doesn’t exist anymore. I wiped out all traces of his existence."

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp.

"Well, except for that damn video I wasn’t aware of," he added, bitterness lacing his words.

The world tilted. Dr. Silas was dead. And what did he mean by he made sure that he doesn’t exist anymore?Did that mean... had he killed Dr. Silas?

"Yes, I’ll look into the woman. If what she’s saying is true..." A long pause. "Alright. I’ll see you at lunch."

The call ended.

I stumbled back from the door, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it would burst.

This man didn’t just know something; he was involved. Deeply involved. And his words echoed in my mind. Was he a murderer? The thought was terrifying. But he was my only lead. I had to know more.

***

An hour later, I was sitting in the hospital canteen, pushing a limp salad around my plate. My phone was propped up against a napkin dispenser, showing Mira’s face. Roxy was a blur in the background, doing what looked like aggressive lunges.

"Eleanor, stop apologizing," Mira said, her voice firm but gentle. "I know you didn’t mean to hurt me."

"But I should have had control," I insisted, the guilt still a raw wound.

"It’s fine. Really. I’m just glad those men got what was coming to them," she said, adjusting her position in her hospital bed.

"Are you two done with the lovey-dovey crap?" Roxy called out, not breaking her rhythm. "My muscles are getting more action than this conversation."

Mira rolled her eyes. "Roxy told me you went out. Where are you?"

"I’m at Evergreen Hospital," I admitted, lowering my voice. "I found a clue. A big one." I quickly summarized my meeting with Dr. Evans and the phone call I’d overheard.

Mira’s eyes widened. "He said he made sure the other doctor doesn’t exist? Eleanor, that sounds... dangerous."

"I know. But he’s meeting someone for lunch to talk about me. I have to see who it is."

"I’m coming," Mira said immediately, already trying to sit up straighter. "Right now."

"No! You’re supposed to be resting," I protested.

"Too late," Roxy announced, her face suddenly filling the screen as she snatched Mira’s phone. "We’re on our way. Don’t do anything stupid until we get there." The call went dead.

I stared at my phone, a mix of dread and gratitude swirling in my stomach. Well, its not as if things can turn out bad after, right?