Chapter 2

• Kyle POV
• The phone rang on Kyle's desk. He frowned, not needing the interruption. For the last three days he'd been working twelve hours trying to get the recommendation done for his company to purchase EDIT, an electronic records management application and he was nearly there.
• "Hello. Kyle Watson, Business Strategy Team. Can I help you?" He replied, the standard answer whenever an internal call came through to his desk.
• "It's Reception. There's a Mister Crowler here to see you. Says he's a lawyer."
• Kyle frowned. "I don't have him in my diary."
• "He says it's urgent that he speak with you," The security guy at reception stated.
• "Em, okay. I'll be right down."
• "Cheers." The other end of the line went dead.
• Kyle headed for the elevator, the frown still creasing his features, wondering why a lawyer would be coming to see him. There was nothing legal he was involved in at work, he knew he was a pretty well behaved guy, and he knew he was up to date on his loan payments and all that.
• He entered the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall as he tried to think of a single reason why a lawyer would be wanting to see him, but by the time the doors opened and he reached the reception desk, he still hadn't come up with one.
• "He's in there," The portly security guy grunted, poking a thumb in the direction of one of the vacant meeting rooms HR used for interviews.
• Kyle looked over, seeing an elderly man, around the age of retirement, but there was something very sharp about him. Maybe the slicked back white hair, or the black suit, shirt and tie, but from his initial glance, Kyle wouldn't be surprised to find out that this guy was Lucifers lawyer. He had that supremely confident look about him.
• His frown still on his face, Kyle opened the door. "Hi. I'm Kyle Watson. Can I help you with something?"
• The lawyer immediately stood offering a surprisingly warm handshake. "I'm Mister Crowler, Kyle. Thankyou for agreeing to meet with me at such short notice."
• "Sure," Kyle said, closing the door and taking a seat opposite the old man. "Do you mind if you tell me straight away what it is you want? We've got three of the Company Directors in the building today, so it's kinda busy upstairs."
• The old man nodded.
• "Very well. I'm sure you're wondering why a lawyer has turned up out of the blue to see you. It involves an inheritance from a relative and you're one of the listed beneficiaries."
• Kyle's eyes widened at the lawyers words. "Oh."
• "Not what you were expecting?" Mister Crowler asked, an eyebrow raised at the expression on Kyle's face.
• "I didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't even on the list," Kyle admitted. "Who are we talking about here? I don't know of any relatives of mine that have died." He frowned as he thought about it. "Not in the last few years anyway. Are you sure I'm the right Kyle Watson?"
• "I'm absolutely sure." The lawyers confident expression left Kyle in little doubt, confusing him further.
• "So.. Em... Who died?" Kyle nodded.
• "For that you'll have to bear with me for a few moments while I show you a few files," Mister Crowler said, flicking open his briefcase and removing several Manilla files, placing them on the desk in front of him. The old mans fingers tapped for a few seconds on the files before he cleared his throat.
• "Kyle, you are twenty three years old, born on the 19th of March, correct?" The lawyer's tone was precise, factual, and Kyle nodded.
• "Yeah."
• "What I am about to tell you may come as a bit of a shock, so please bear with me." He flicked open the first file, containing several photos. The first was a black and white image of three babies, wrapped in blankets and woolen hats and they looked like they were only a day old.
• "Babies," Kyle said aloud, knowing he was stating the obvious, but if he had fifty guesses at what was inside the manilla folders, a baby picture wouldn't have even crossed his mind.
• "Correct," Mister Crowler replied. "This is a photograph taken of a set of triplets several hours after they were born on the 19th of March, twenty three and a half years ago, Kyle."
• Kyle's eyes shot up to the old man's, but the lawyers gaze was fixed on the photo. His finger tapped the baby on Kyle's left.
• "This baby was named Katarina." His finger moved to tap on the infant on the right. "This one was named Kara, and the one in the middle was named Kyle."
• "Yeah, I think you've got the wrong Kyle, buddy," He said immediately. "I don't have any sisters, or twins, or whatever." He kept quiet the realisation that the central baby did look like him in his own baby photos, but Kyle wasn't convinced. Babies all looked the same to him anyway.
• "Please, bear with me," The lawyer said firmly, moving the photograph to one side. Underneath the photo was a stack of papers, and Kyle could see Adoption Certificate written on the top one. His fingers deftly rotated the document so Kyle could read it.
• His eyes met the lawyers a few seconds later. "I don't know anything about this documentation. I couldn't tell you if it's real or false. I know I'm not adopted though."
• "Is this your birth certificate, Kyle?" Mister Crowler said, sliding another document in front of Kyle.
• He checked and nodded, frowning as he wondered why the hell this lawyer could have a copy of what looked like his own birth certificate. "Could be, but I don't know how you have it."
• The lawyer flicked another document next to the birth certificate. "This is a name change by deed poll that accompanies the adoption certificate," He continued in the factual, clinical and emotionless tone, flicking another two documents in front of Kyle. "And this is your original birth certificate."
• Kyle forced himself to look carefully at what was in front of him. He knew that his own birth certificate was correct and couldn't see anything on it that was strange or unusual, so he began to read the name change document, and compared it with the adoption certificate. He could feel a knot in his stomach as he failed to find any inconsistencies, and with reluctance, he looked at the original birth certificate.
• He read the name of the baby on the certificate and his eyes immediately shot up to the lawyers face, seeing an expression of sadness there, perhaps even a hint of empathy at the young man sitting opposite him whose very foundation was being pulled out from under him.
• "The... The surname?" Kyle stammered.
• Mister Crowler didn't say anything. He simply slid another photograph across the table, this time of the three infants, cradled in their fathers arms. It was a younger version of a familiar face, known the world over. For the past few days it had never been off the news.