Chapter 11 - SEVEN YEARS OF SILENCE
The sound of the gunshot echoed between the clinic buildings.
Mathéo felt Gabriel collapse against him.
For a moment, he couldn't understand what had happened.
Then he saw blood spreading across his uncle's sleeve.
“Uncle Gabriel!”
Camille grabbed Mathéo and pulled him behind a concrete barrier.
“Stay down!”
Another shot struck the wall above them.
Fragments scattered across the pavement.
Gabriel pressed his hand against his upper arm.
“I'm okay,” he gasped.
But his face was pale.
Camille looked toward the service entrance.
Two figures were moving through the smoke.
Adrien shouted:
“Don't let them leave!”
Camille reached for her phone.
“Emergency services are already on their way.”
Gabriel struggled to stand.
“Mathéo, listen to me.”
The boy was crying.
“You're hurt!”
“I know. But I need you to be brave for one more minute.”
Mathéo shook his head.
“I don't want you to die.”
Gabriel's expression broke.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
He pulled the boy close.
“I've already missed too much of your life. I'm not planning to miss any more.”
A vehicle screeched into the parking lot.
Its headlights swept across the courtyard.
A man jumped out.
David Mercer.
“Get in!”
Camille hesitated.
“Your daughter?”
“She's safe. Police have her.”
David opened the rear door.
“Move!”
Gabriel climbed in with Mathéo.
Camille followed.
David drove toward the exit.
A security vehicle tried to block them.
David swerved around it, striking a traffic barrier.
The car jolted violently.
Mathéo clung to Gabriel.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Within minutes, police vehicles converged on the area.
David stopped beside a patrol car and raised his hands.
“There's an injured man and a child in the back!”
Officers approached.
Camille immediately began explaining what had happened.
Gabriel was taken to a hospital.
Mathéo was placed under protective care while authorities verified his identity and contacted his mother.
For the first time in days, he was no longer surrounded by Laurent's people.
But he still didn't feel safe.
Not until he heard his mother's voice.
Hours later, Élodie received the call.
Claire stood beside her when the Canadian officer explained that Mathéo had been found.
Alive.
Physically unharmed.
Terrified.
But alive.
Élodie sank into a chair.
“Can I speak to him?”
“We're arranging that now.”
She began crying.
Claire placed a hand on her shoulder.
Then a small voice came through the phone.
“Mom?”
Élodie covered her mouth.
“Mathéo.”
“Mom, I'm sorry.”
“No, sweetheart. No.”
“I tried to be brave.”
“You were brave. But you should never have had to be.”
His breathing trembled.
“I thought Dad would hurt you.”
“I know.”
“I didn't mean what I said in court.”
Élodie closed her eyes.
“I know, my love.”
“I want to come home.”
She pressed the phone against her ear.
“And I'm going to do everything I can to bring you home.”
“Promise?”
“I promise I'll keep fighting for you. And there are people helping us now.”
Mathéo began crying.
Élodie cried with him.
For several minutes, neither could say anything else.
Then Mathéo whispered:
“Mom, Uncle Gabriel is alive.”
“I know.”
“He got hurt helping me.”
“I heard. He's getting medical care.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“He told me something before the ambulance came.”
Élodie's heart tightened.
“What?”
“He said Dad isn't the only person involved.”
She looked at Claire.
“Who else?”
Mathéo hesitated.
“He said the person who started everything is someone we both know.”
Élodie felt cold.
“Did he say who?”
“No. But he said you'd understand when you saw the original photograph.”
“The photograph of Gabriel?”
“No.”
Mathéo's voice became very small.
“The photograph of my birth.”
Élodie froze.
Before she could ask another question, the officer gently ended the call so Mathéo could rest.
Élodie stared at her phone.
A photograph of his birth.
She remembered the hospital room.
The exhaustion.
The joy.
Laurent holding their newborn son.
Isabelle standing beside the bed.
Gabriel arriving with flowers.
And another person.
A woman Élodie hadn't thought about in years.
Her obstetrician.
Dr. Hélène Fournier.
A doctor who had later become a board member of the Saint-Clair Foundation.
Élodie looked at Claire.
“I think I know who Gabriel meant.”
Claire frowned.
“Who?”
May you like
Élodie whispered:
“The doctor who delivered my son.”
