Page 9 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

JP closed the file. “Now, I find out who she used to be.”

He ended the call and stared at the birth certificate on his screen. Lila Bay Mercer. It had been created and filed three years earlier for a girl who was supposedly fifteen.

He sat up straight in his chair and stretched his back. The longer he thought about it, the more the whole thing bothered him. It wasn’t just the late filing. It was the structure.

The certificate looked legitimate. It had the county seal, a registrar signature, and notarization, but the supporting documentation was almost nonexistent. Someone had built the identity just strong enough to pass casual inspection, but not strong enough to survive someone digging.

A new concern surfaced. If this one was fake… how many others were there?

JP ran the name again through a broader registry search, this time looking not just for the exact identity but for similar patterns. He looked for delayed birth certificates for girls born between thirteen and fifteen years ago. He also looked for recently issued paperwork.

The search took longer this time, but several records finally appeared. Most were legitimate, immigration cases, hospital corrections, adoptions.

But one entry from Riverside County caught his attention. JP opened the file, and another birth certificate appeared on the screen. Joy Bay Ridden.

The girl had a birth date just one month later than the one listed for Lila Mercer.

JP frowned. This certificate had been filed five years ago.

He opened the supporting documentation, which looked eerily similar to the Mercer certificate. Just a single notarized statement, with no hospital listed and no doctor. It had provided just enough information to push it through the county registrar.

JP sat back slowly. “Well,” he murmured. “That’s interesting.”

He opened the certificates side by side—different counties and different filing dates, but the structure of the paperwork was almost identical, mother deceased, father unknown. And the birth names shared the unusual name Bay.

Someone had used the same method twice. Which meant it was a system.

JP rubbed his chin thoughtfully. If these two identities belonged to the same girl, someone had been creating a new name for her every few years. If these were actually Bay, they were moving her, resetting her. The process was too sophisticated to have been done by Bay herself. She would’ve only been about ten when the first one was filed.

He studied the Riverside certificate again. Joy Bay Ridden. The name itself sounded odd, constructed, like something invented quickly.

JP looked back at the photograph of the girl Sabre was representing. Her expression hadn’t changed. Still calm. Still watchful. Still not afraid.

JP picked up the phone again.

Sabre answered on the first ring. “More bad news?”

“Maybe.”

“Define maybe.”

JP glanced at the two certificates on his screen. “I think your client has had more than one name. I found another birth certificate in a different county, under a somewhat different name.”

Sabre’s voice sharpened. “What name?”

“Joy Bay Ridden.”

“And how old is she supposed to be?”

“Almost exactly the same age as Bay Mercer.”

Sabre didn’t speak for a moment. Finally, she said, “Do you think it’s the same girl?”

“I think someone created two identities for a girl the same age using almost identical paperwork.”

“So, which one is real?”

JP smiled faintly. “Probably neither, but it does tell us that your client has been someone else before.”