Chapter 2 - The Midnight Call
Eleanor stared out the tinted window of her Bentley as it glided through the neon-lit streets of Manhattan.
Her hands were still shaking uncontrollably in her lap.
When she arrived at her massive Upper East Side penthouse, she found her husband waiting in the living room.
Richard Whitmore was swirling a glass of expensive bourbon, looking perfectly calm in his tailored suit.
"How was dinner, darling?" Richard asked, offering her a practiced, charming smile.
"It was fine," Eleanor lied smoothly, walking straight past him toward her bedroom.
She locked the heavy wooden door behind her and collapsed onto the edge of the mattress.
Miles away in a cramped apartment in Queens, Emily sat on a lumpy futon in the dark.
She held the gold-embossed business card under the faint light of a streetlamp shining through her window.
The words "Eleanor Whitmore, CEO of Whitmore Enterprises" stared back at her.
Emily picked up her cheap cell phone and dialed the private number listed on the card.
Eleanor answered on the very first ring.
"Is this Emily?" Eleanor asked, her voice tight with desperate anticipation.
"Yes, it's me," Emily whispered, hugging her knees to her chest.
"I need to know exactly what the orphanage told you about where you came from," Eleanor said urgently.
Emily took a deep breath, trying to organize her scattered thoughts.
"They told me I was left in a cardboard box on the steps of St. Jude's with nothing but a hospital blanket," Emily explained.
Eleanor gasped loudly on the other end of the line.
"St. Jude's?" Eleanor asked, her voice turning into a terrified pitch.
"Yes, why?" Emily asked, feeling a cold dread wash over her completely.
"Because my husband's real estate firm bought that orphanage and tore it down twenty years ago," Eleanor revealed.
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Before Emily could process that terrifying piece of information, a massive crash echoed through her apartment.
Her front door was violently kicked open, splintering the wooden frame into pieces.
