Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Abandoned Her
By morning, Riverbend was surrounded by police.
The official story was a security breach.
Nobody mentioned the gunshot.
Nobody mentioned the armed stranger.
And nobody mentioned the woman outside.
Boone had disappeared.
I found him in the parking garage.
“You can't leave.”
He turned.
“I have to.”
“Emma is here.”
“I know.”
“You're her guardian.”
“Not anymore.”
“What?”
He handed me a folded document.
A court order.
Emergency protective custody.
The hospital had petitioned for temporary custody because the identity of the child's family was uncertain.
My stomach tightened.
“You signed this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if they think I'm her legal guardian, they'll come for me.”
“And if they come for you?”
“They'll find her.”
I stared at him.
“You're running.”
“No.”
He looked toward the hospital.
“I'm drawing them away.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“It's Rachel.”
I felt my heart stop.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then a woman's voice came through.
“Boone.”
His eyes closed.
“Rachel?”
“Don't come looking for me.”
“Where are you?”
“Far enough away that they haven't found me.”
“Emma is alive.”
“I know.”
I stepped closer.
Boone looked at me.
Rachel continued.
“Is Claire with you?”
My blood ran cold.
Boone said nothing.
Rachel whispered,
“She has to remember.”
Then the call ended.
“Rachel!” Boone shouted.
Nothing.
I stared at him.
“She knows me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you saved her.”
I shook my head.
“I don't remember.”
Boone looked toward the hospital.
“You will.”
That afternoon, I found the first piece.
An old photograph hidden inside an archive box.
It showed me standing beside Rachel.
She was pregnant.
I was holding her arm.
On the back was one sentence.
Claire promised to protect Emma.
I sat on the floor.
Memories came in fragments.
A hallway.
Smoke.
Rachel screaming.
A baby crying.
A man shouting.
My own voice saying:
“Take her. I'll make sure nobody finds her.”
Then darkness.
I dropped the photograph.
I remembered.
Not everything.
But enough.
Rachel hadn't abandoned Emma.
She had trusted me.
And I had taken the baby.
Not to hurt her.
To save her.
Then someone had taken Emma from me.
And made me forget.
That night, I returned to the NICU.
Emma was sleeping.
A nurse had placed a stuffed rabbit beside her incubator.
I touched the glass.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered.
Behind me, a voice said,
“You should be.”
I turned.
The woman from the security footage stood in the doorway.
Older.
Calm.
Elegant.
Holding a black handbag.
She smiled.
“My name is Vivian Cross.”
I knew the name.
Not personally.
From the article.
She had been listed as a hospital administrator eleven years ago.
And presumed dead in the fire.
“You're dead,” I whispered.
Vivian smiled.
“So is Rachel.”
May you like
She stepped closer.
“But neither of us died that night.”
