Six pairs of eyes stared at the projected image in Miguel’s study.
“So…” He broke the silence, crossing his legs as he leaned back in his swivel chair. “Where’s the boy?”
He was surprised to hear that Jacob was also here because of the same orphanage they’d been trying to get information about. Even more when he found out that he grew up there.
Everyone had hurriedly finished up their meal in anticipation. If the child truly was in the picture, it would mean they were halfway through their plan.
But staring at it now, they all realised they had forgotten something important.
How do they recognise him?
Jacob sighed, leaning off the corner of the wall he had been attached to since they filed into the study. He moved closer to the projected image, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Miguel repeated, expecting the young man to rephrase his words.
What kind of half-baked plan was this?
He turned to his son-in-law, “Is this what we were eager to see? An unclear lead? No me digas que sobreestime tus habilidades, Adonis (Don’t tell me I overestimated your abilities, Adonis).”
Adonis regarded the man standing by the displayed picture. “What is this? Are you always incompetent with your work?”
“Adonis, mind your words.” Cecelia hissed at his hostility.
“I apologise once again,” Cara winced, giving her husband’s hand a tight squeeze. “What is wrong with you?” She whispered-yelled.
“He acted like he had all the answers.” His expression hardened. “I expected him to give facts. Not objectives. You said you were thorough.”
Jacob scowled, “I also said I knew everyone at the orphanage when I was brought in.” Jacob bit back. “I never said I know your guy. Ask your wife.”
“He’s correct.” Cara quickly agreed. “He’s four years younger than the child and was taken to the orphanage at the age of ten. The boy would’ve been around fourteen by then. That’s a lead we can start with.” She tried to diffuse the tension. “Why don’t you explain the picture to us, Jacob?”
He exhaled calmly, turning away from a glaring Adonis. “In the picture, there are a total of sixty children. You’d notice that the majority looked to be between the ages of six and ten. Children are mostly brought in around that age.”
“Hold on,” Miguel’s deep voice interrupted him. “How sure are you that there weren’t more children who didn’t appear in the picture?”
“Good question.” Jacob pointed out, “Mother Teresa, the nun in charge, gave all new intake numbers. According to the arrangement, that day, I was the only one brought in after being discharged from the hospital, and was number sixty.”
“I see,” Adonis commented. “We’re looking for a fourteen-year-old in the picture. Let’s cancel everyone that isn’t in that range.” He studied the image, already at work.
“That won’t be necessary. There were only two boys older than me at that time. Excuse me,” he stepped back to pick up a nearly walking stick by the wall.
“This is me.” Jacob extended it towards a small boy with a scowl on his face, standing next to an elderly woman, and then at the far left end, two other boys. They were the oldest in the picture and both had mischievous smiles on their faces.
“That’s John and Matthew.”
“John and Matthew.” Cara’s father hummed… waving over the guard who had been standing silently at the corner of the room all the while. “Zoom in on those two boys. They’re our case study.”
The man did as instructed before returning to his post.
“Gracias, Jacob. (Thank you, Jacob).” He said.
The said man didn’t need to understand Spanish to know that his job was done and he was no longer needed. He stepped back as Miguel regarded Adonis.
“El chico ha ayudado a su manera. Depende de ti ahora. Tu abuelo dejo alguna informacion sobre el nino en el diario? (The boy has helped in his way.). It’s up to you now. Did your grandfather leave any information about the child in the journal?”
Adonis still busy with his study, replied half-heartedly, “None that I can remember.”
“That’s not like Dimitri. No name, specific features, or even a sign? Jacob just mentioned their names. Try and think if you cited either one in the journal.”
“I don’t think he would’ve.” Jacob chimed in, “It depends on when the journal was written. The names I told you guys weren’t their birth names.”
Adonis glanced at him for a second. “Elaborate.”
“-Please,” Cara added sharply, giving her husband a pinch in the side. He didn’t act like he felt a thing and continued with his analysis of the picture.
No one knew what he was so curious about that he hadn’t taken his eyes off it, but knowing Adonis, it was best to leave him be.
“At Bell Flower, we were baptised and given biblical first names within the first week of acceptance,” Jacob explained simply.
“So they change everyone’s names?” Cecelia questioned, his words being new to her also.
“Yes. My name wasn’t Jacob from birth. I am Ethan Roman Maynard. If a child didn’t have a last name, they were given Raymond- Mother Teresa’s last name.”
Her brows knitted together. “Is it possible to not have a last name?”
“Yes. If the child is too young to remember or was brought in as a baby.” Miguel reasoned. “The child we are searching for was taken to the orphanage immediately after birth, so he would’ve been given one.”
His eyes drifted to the image again. They were getting closer. “At what age were the children allowed to leave the orphanage?”
Jacob’s countenance fell- he caught himself, pulling on his mask again. “Bell Flower was different. It was privately run… more like a foster home. Mother Teresa never lets anyone leave unless they are adopted or they’re ready to build a life for themselves. The latter usually involved children done with college.”
Cara gasped in awe, “Are you saying she takes care of them for that long?”
“Yes… she was a real mother to us all.”
“But… funds.”
She thought about it. The act was a good deed, more than good, but it would require a lot of money. College wasn’t cheap. She knew that.
“Mother Teresa had a lot of NGOs that supported. Some children worked hard to get a scholarship. The church itself was helpful. Saying we had smooth sailing would be a lie, but she made it happen. I don’t know if it was luck or planned; we only had a maximum of ten to twelve intakes per year. She wanted more but couldn’t afford to.”
“That must have been incredibly difficult…” Cara sympathised, with a newfound respect for the woman she never got to meet.
Jacob’s eyes dimmed in response to her words, holding a faraway look.
Was that pain she saw in them?
“Yes. Yes, it was.” He replied softly. “It was her dream to make Bell Flower bigger. I was adopted by a good family; things changed for me. I studied hard and went to a good college. It took some time, but I was able to achieve a lot, and at twenty-three, I had my first company. I was going to make that dream come true, with the help of some others who were also doing well.” He swallowed. “I had started… then, two years later, the fire incident happened.”
Cecelia went over to console him.
“You know?” He struggled, “Some of the children didn’t care about making something of themselves, yet she kept them around… gave them jobs in Bell Flower. She’d say it was her fault for spoiling them too much.”
Miguel twitched at the information.
Does that mean there was a chance that some children never left?
“Do you remember any detail about the two boys?”
Jacob nodded. “Who wouldn’t? We all did. They were the bullies of Bell Flower. Matthew particularly. John was his minion.”
“Where are they now? Were they adopted like you were or did they leave after college?”
“No… John died of leukaemia at twenty. It was a sad time…”
“And Matthew?”
“He had it worse than the rest of us. He and John were the first intakes of Bell Flower. He always liked to fight… wanted to make a career out of it, but Mother Teresa would rather die.” Jacob chuckled at the memory. “After college, she made him in charge of the finances of the orphanage. She said he had a lot of anger to give the world, and staying in God’s presence would heal him.”
“Maybe I should try it out with someone,” Cara murmured.
Miguel pondered on Jacob’s words. Their last option was Matthew. Where could he be? If he truly was Sebastian and Sarah’s son, the DNA would show it, so he wasn’t worried about that. The only thought that stressed him out was how they would find him.
He understood perfectly the reason why all the information and documents of the orphanage were burnt in the fire. If everything was documented, they’d be able to find him within a twinkle of an eye.
He was sure now. Whoever burnt the orphanage, took the child, and they wanted to hide him at all costs. But Matthew was a man already. Was he that stupid not to know it was a set-up?
The answer came to him immediately,
“Either he was lied to, or he had a hand in the incident.”
“Sorry?” Everyone but Adonis and the guard echoed. “Matthew might have a hand in the fire scheme.” He rephrased.
“That’s not possible,” Jacob said, his voice strained. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze, fixed on the projected image of Matthew, and expression a mixture of confusion and hurt. “He might’ve been an unruly child, but he loved Bell Flower. We all did.”
“How about we find him and find out the truth? You said he was working at the orphanage up until it got destroyed. Do you know where he is now?”
“I… I don’t.” He admitted.
“Does that make sense to you? How would he go off the grid? Isn’t that suspicious?”
An expression of disbelief adorned Jacob’s face. He had been searching for Matthew since the incident and believed the man just wanted to be left alone to grieve as he did. According to the police, he was lucky to be out on business the day it happened, so he escaped it.
Could it be? Was Miguel correct?
A memory he had forgotten to mention suddenly sprung up, “Matthew… his last name was Raymond. John’s was Stone.”
Miguel hummed. “I believe we have our answer.”
Hot, searing rage mixed with pain stabbed Jacob’s heart.
There was no way… right?
“We’re going in search of our guy, Matthew Raymond,” Miguel concluded.
Adonis, his gaze still fixed on the screen, suddenly straightened. He’d been studying the picture, searching for any detail that might connect to the journal, and something about the young Matthew’s posture, a slight scar on his left cheek, triggered a memory…
“There’ll be no need,” he said, his voice low. “I know where we can find him.
Everyone whipped their head towards him.
“You do?” Cara shrieked.
“Yeah. I put him in the hospital last night.”
“You put him in the-what the hell? Death Eater?”