Chapter 31: The Cloud Proof

*Phase 2.*

The folder sat on the frozen screen, a digital island in a sea of corruption. My hand hovered over the mouse.

"Step away from the desk," Mark said. His voice was steady, but the gun in his hand trembled. "Elara, I'm warning you."

"Warning me?" I didn't look at him. I couldn't take my eyes off the monitor. "You're already erasing me, Mark. What's left to warn?"

"He won't shoot you," Chloe sneered, stepping around him. She held the duct tape like a weapon. "He doesn't have the stomach for it. But I do."

She lunged.

I didn't think. I just reacted. I slammed my hand down on the mouse, double-clicking the folder icon.

Chloe tackled me.

We hit the concrete floor hard, her elbow driving into my ribs. Pain exploded in my chest, blinding and hot. She was on top of me instantly, her hands going for my throat.

"You stupid, nosy bitch," she hissed, spit flying into my face.

I clawed at her eyes, my nails digging into skin. She shrieked, rearing back, but her weight still pinned me down.

"Mark!" she screamed. "destroy the hard drive!"

I looked past her shoulder. Mark wasn't smashing the computer. He was staring at the screen.

The folder had opened.

A single PDF document filled the monitor.

"Mark?" Chloe turned, her grip on my throat loosening.

Mark dropped the gun. It clattered onto the concrete, the sound echoing like a gavel strike. He looked sick. Pale, clammy, like he was about to vomit.

"You said we were just taking custody," he whispered.

I shoved Chloe off me. She stumbled, off-balance, her gaze snapping to the screen.

I scrambled to my feet, using the workbench for support. I looked at the document.

It was a birth certificate. Official state seal. Watermarks.

*Child's Name: Lily Sarah Vance.*

I let out a sob. It was my daughter. My Lily.

But my eyes drifted down to the parents' information.

*Father: Mark Anthony Vance.*

*Mother: Elena Rostova Vance.*

My name wasn't there. I didn't exist.

"You're stealing her," I breathed. "You're stealing my baby."

"We're correcting a mistake," Chloe said, standing up and brushing dust from her suit. She walked to the computer, reaching for the power cord. "Sarah couldn't have her. I couldn't have her. You were just the vessel, Elara. A biological necessity."

"But she's born," I said, pointing at the screen. "She's a month old. You can't just change the certificate."

"Look closer," Chloe whispered.

I looked at the date of birth.

My daughter was born on January 14th. I remembered the snow. I remembered the pain.

But the certificate didn't say January 14th.

*Date of Birth: January 29, 2026.*

I froze.

"That's tomorrow," I whispered.

Chloe smiled. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen.

"Exactly," she said. "We're not just taking the baby, Elara. We're restarting the clock. Tomorrow, Elena Vance gives birth to a healthy baby girl at a private clinic in the Caymans."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a gentle, lethal purr.

"And sadly, tragically