Chapter 1: Perfect Match

Stella POV

The fluorescent lights in the hospital waiting room buzzed faintly, an eerie hum that seemed to echo my racing thoughts. I sat on the edge of one of the stiff, cold chairs, my hands clenched in my lap, twisting my wedding ring until my fingers ached. Across the room, Jack leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone.

Even now, even in the middle of this crisis, he looked unshakable. But I knew better.

To Jack, Lily was his world, his everything and would do anything to keep her happy but in this case, he was helpless. Even his money couldn’t do much for him. 

“Any word?” I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.

“Not yet,” he replied, barely sparing me a glance. His gaze remained fixed on the double doors to the emergency room, his jaw tight.

I swallowed hard, trying to push past the tension coiling in my chest. I didn’t know what else to say. My hands itched to reach for him, to offer some comfort, but that wasn’t what we did. Not us. Our relationship wasn’t built for moments like this.

“She’ll be okay,” I murmured, though the words felt hollow.

Jack turned to me then, his green eyes hard, sharp with worry. “You don’t know that.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but the weight of it hit me like a slap.

Before I could respond, the doors swung open, and a doctor stepped out. Jack moved instantly, closing the distance between them in three long strides.

“How is she?” he demanded.

“Lily is stable,” the doctor said, his tone calm but clinical. “For now. However, we need to run additional tests to confirm our diagnosis. It appears she may have a rare genetic condition. We’ll need blood samples from both parents to proceed.”

Jack stiffened, his broad shoulders squaring in a way I recognized all too well.

“Her mother isn’t…available,” he said smoothly, the lie slipping out as easily as breathing.

I felt it like a knife to the chest, even though I’d heard it before. Over and over. Also, it wasn’t entirely a lie because I wasn’t her biological mother even though she called me mother. 

“I can give a sample,” I said as I stepped forward, my voice stronger than I felt.

Both the doctor and Jack turned to look at me. Jack’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something almost like a warning.

“Thank you, Mrs. Norman,” the doctor said with a nod, before motioning for me to follow him.

I didn’t look back at Jack as I walked away. I didn’t have to. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back, heavy with all the things he wasn’t saying.

Hours later, I stood in Jack’s immaculate kitchen, staring blankly at a mug of tea I hadn’t touched. Upstairs, Jack was in Lily’s room, sitting at her bedside like the devoted father he was.

The arrangement we had—the contract we’d signed—it was supposed to be simple. No feelings. No entanglements. Just two people with something to gain and everything to lose.

But then there was Lily. Sweet, funny, stubborn Lily, with her bright eyes and her endless questions. She’d wormed her way into the spaces I’d thought were long dead. Spaces I’d carefully walled off after…

I pushed the thought away.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my spiral. I grabbed it, answering on autopilot.

“Mrs. Norman?” The doctor’s voice was professional but hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how to start.

“Yes, this is Stella,” I said, gripping the edge of the counter.

“I have the results of the blood tests,” he continued. “Lily’s condition has been confirmed. But there’s something unusual. Your blood sample is a perfect match for hers.”

The room spun.

“A…a match?” I stammered.

“Yes,” he said carefully. “Genetic matches like this are incredibly rare outside of close familial relationships, but given the circumstances—”

“Are you saying—?”

“I’m not saying anything definitive,” he interrupted gently. “It could just be a coincidence. I thought you should know.”

I sat at the kitchen table for what felt like hours, staring blankly at the mess I’d made when I dropped my mug. A perfect match.

The words echoed in my head, refusing to let go.

It didn’t make sense. Lily wasn’t my child. She couldn’t be. My daughter…she was long gone.

I pressed my trembling hands to my face, trying to block out the memory. The tiny white coffin. The way the earth swallowed it whole. The crushing silence that followed.

“No,” I whispered. It had to be a mistake.

The sound of footsteps startled me, and I looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway. His tie was undone, his shirt rumpled, but his face was as unreadable as ever.

“You look terrible,” he said bluntly.

“Thanks,” I muttered, brushing past him to grab a towel.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just tired.”

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, but he didn’t press. Instead, he poured himself a glass of water and left the room without another word.

The first text came the next morning.

I was in the middle of sipping my coffee, trying to shake off the fog of a restless night, when my phone buzzed. The message was short, direct, and devastating.

“Your daughter isn’t dead.”

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The mug slipped from my hand, crashing onto the counter and spilling coffee everywhere.

“What happened?” Jack asked, striding into the kitchen.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, fumbling to clean up the mess. “Just dropped my coffee.”

“Are you sure!” He asked. 

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday and this is the second time you’re spilling your coffee,” he said, still staring at me.

“No, it’s nothing! It was a mistake”. He didn’t seem convinced, but after a moment, he shrugged and turned away.

I grabbed my phone and retreated to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My hands shook as I read the message again.

“Your daughter isn’t dead.”

Before I could process it, another message appeared.

“Look closer. The truth is right in front of you.”

Panic rose in my chest. I typed out a response with trembling fingers.

“Who is this? What do you want?”

The reply came almost instantly.

“What you lost can be found again. But the truth has a price. Are you ready to pay it?”

I stayed locked in that bathroom long after the messages stopped.

The rational part of me screamed that it was a cruel prank, some sick joke. But the part of me that had never fully let go of my daughter—the part that still woke up reaching for her—was whispering something else.

By the time I emerged, Jack was gone, off to another meeting or crisis or whatever it was billionaires did. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

I went to Lily’s room, standing in the doorway and watching her sleep. Her small hand clutched a stuffed bear, her dark curls splayed across the pillow.

I told myself it was impossible. Coincidences happened all the time.

But in my heart, something cracked open.

Could it be true?

And if it was, what did that mean for everything I thought I knew?