The Billionaire’s Baby Wouldn’t Stop Crying on a Flight
PART 2
The girl hesitated before answering.
“Lena,” she said softly.
“Lena Hart.”
Daniel went completely still.
Hart.
His late wife’s maiden name.
Sophie slept against Lena’s shoulder, one tiny hand gripping the edge of the girl’s faded hoodie like she had known her forever.
Daniel tried to speak, but the name had locked something inside his chest.
“My wife’s name was Amelia Hart.”
Lena’s face changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“I know.”
The words were so quiet that Daniel almost missed them beneath the airplane engines.
He leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
Lena looked toward economy, where an older woman in a navy coat watched them with pale, frightened eyes.
“My aunt told me not to talk to you.”
Daniel’s heartbeat slowed.
“Why?”
Lena carefully shifted Sophie back into his arms, but the baby whimpered immediately and reached for her again.
Passengers around them murmured.
Lena swallowed.
“Because she said your family destroys anyone who gets too close.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“My family?”
Before Lena could answer, the woman from economy stood and hurried down the aisle.
“Lena, come back here now.”
Daniel recognized her from a photograph he had seen only once.
Marion Hart.
Amelia’s estranged older sister.
The woman who had disappeared before Amelia died.
Daniel rose, holding Sophie.
“You knew my wife.”
Marion’s eyes filled with fear.
“I knew what your mother did to her.”
The cabin seemed to tilt.
Lena reached into her backpack with shaking hands and pulled out a small silver music box.
The same lullaby she had hummed.
Sophie stopped crying the moment it opened.
Daniel stared at it.
“That belonged to Amelia.”
Lena nodded.
“She gave it to my mother before she died.”
“Your mother?”
Lena’s voice broke.
“Amelia.”
Daniel could not breathe.
“That’s impossible.”
Marion stepped between them.
“Amelia was pregnant when your family told you she had a miscarriage.”
Daniel’s hands tightened around Sophie.
“No.”
Marion pulled a sealed envelope from her coat and placed it on his tray table.
Inside was a hospital record, a birth certificate, and a DNA report.
Child: Lena Hart Whitmore.
Father: Daniel Whitmore.
May you like
Then the flight attendant rushed forward, pale.
“Mr. Whitmore, someone in London has requested police meet the plane.”
