Seven months after our divorce, I rushed into St. Jude’s Children’s and Women’s Hospital, still angry at my ex-wife, only to learn that she had just given birth to twin boys, and both of them were mine. Before the night was over, a nurse would place a brass key in my hand and tell me to use it before my own family arrived. And what was waiting for me beyond that was even more shocking.

“Did my father know about her condition too?” I demanded.

Marcus let out a long, heavy breath into the phone.

“Alexander, you really shouldn’t be asking sensitive questions like these over an unsecured line,” he warned.

“Then meet me at St.

Jude’s Hospital right away,” I ordered.

“I can’t do that,” he replied anxiously.

“Why on earth not?” I demanded.

“Because your father has private security watching the main corporate offices and tracking people’s movements,” Marcus revealed.