Part 22: The Bailiff's Last Truth
The wooden cane lay alone in the center of the courtroom.
Maya untied the folded note with trembling fingers.
Follow the church bell, not the courthouse clock.
Before anyone could react, the courthouse clock struck midnight.
Twelve heavy chimes echoed through the empty halls.
The old priest closed his eyes.
"He's leading us to Saint Agnes."
Grace turned sharply.
"The maternity home burned down."
"So everyone believed," the priest replied.
Daniel picked up the bailiff's cane. The silver ring engraved beneath its handle matched the one from the delivery-room recording.
"He wanted us to find this."
Hidden inside the hollow cane was a narrow brass tube.
Frank unscrewed it carefully.
A strip of aged film slid onto his hand.
Unlike the digital recordings, this reel had never been copied.
"No edits," Helen whispered.
"No replacements."
Only the truth.
Minutes later, they reached the ruins of Saint Agnes on the edge of town. Ivy covered the cracked stone walls, and the chapel bell leaned silently above the collapsed roof.
Maya remembered the note.
She rang the bell.
A dull metallic sound echoed underground.
Grace stared toward the floor.
"There's a basement."
Behind the old altar, a concealed hatch slowly lifted.
Cold air drifted upward.
The group descended into a forgotten archive untouched by fire.
Rows of shelves held sealed hospital records protected inside metal cases.
None had been altered.
None carried Echo markings.
The priest smiled sadly.
"My brother hid the originals here before he disappeared."
Maya searched the shelves until she found a box marked only with the white lily.
Inside rested a delivery register.
Mother:
Grace Bennett.
The father's line remained covered by a narrow paper seal.
Before Maya could lift it, footsteps echoed behind them.
The missing bailiff stepped from the shadows.
"I hoped you'd reach this room before Walter."
Daniel stared at him.
"Why run?"
"Because Walter wasn't chasing me."
The bailiff looked directly at Maya.
"He was chasing the seal."
He carefully peeled back the paper.
A single handwritten name appeared beneath it.
Not Daniel Carter.
Not Walter Bennett.
Not the priest.
The room fell silent.
Grace began to cry before Maya even read it aloud.
Father: Michael Cross.
Helen staggered backward.
"My husband..."
The bailiff slowly shook his head.
"No."
"My brother."
The lantern flickered.
Another page beneath the register revealed a handwritten note from Michael.
May you like
If Walter ever finds this record... tell Maya never to ask who raised her. Ask who chose her instead.
