Chapter 5 - The police arrived nine minutes later.Nine minutes that felt like nine years.
The house had become a crime scene.
Glass covered the living room.
The flowers Daniel had bought were scattered across the floor, white petals stained with pink frosting.
Claire sat wrapped in a blanket while officers examined the bullet holes.
Daniel never left her side.
Evelyn sat in silence.
Marcus stood near the window.
He looked older now.
Tired.
Afraid.
A detective approached them.
“Do any of you know who fired the shots?”
Nobody answered.
The detective looked at Daniel.
“Any enemies?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not that I know of.”
The detective turned to Marcus.
“Mr. Hale?”
Marcus said nothing.
Finally, Claire spoke.
“They were shooting at us because of my daughter.”
The detective frowned.
“What daughter?”
Daniel looked at him.
“My wife was told she lost a child. We're now being told the child may still be alive.”
The detective's expression changed.
“How old?”
“Four.”
The officer wrote something down.
“Do you have proof?”
Marcus handed him the photograph.
“We have this.”
The detective stared at it.
Then at Marcus.
“Where was this taken?”
“A private medical facility.”
“Which one?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Saint Agnes.”
Claire's eyes widened.
That name hit her.
Not because she recognized it.
Because her body did.
A flash.
A corridor.
A red door.
A woman in blue scrubs.
A bracelet.
She gasped.
Daniel immediately turned.
“What?”
“I've been there.”
Marcus looked at her.
“When?”
“I don't know.”
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
“There was a red door.”
Marcus's face changed.
“What else?”
“A nursery.”
“Anything else?”
“A lullaby.”
“What lullaby?”
Claire closed her eyes.
The melody came suddenly.
Soft.
Simple.
A lullaby her mother used to sing.
Then another memory surfaced.
Someone had whispered:
Don't let Evelyn see her.
Claire opened her eyes.
“Evelyn was there.”
Every face turned toward his mother.
Evelyn looked at the floor.
Daniel walked toward her.
“Why were you at Saint Agnes?”
“I was trying to help.”
“You said you were never involved.”
“I didn't say that.”
“You implied it.”
Evelyn rose.
“I went there because you were not ready to know.”
“Know what?”
“The baby had complications.”
Claire stared.
Marcus stepped forward.
“That's not what happened.”
Evelyn turned.
“You weren't there.”
“I was.”
“You were in another state.”
Marcus's expression hardened.
“My wife was there.”
Claire whispered, “Your wife?”
“My wife was one of the nurses.”
Daniel looked between them.
“She helped Claire?”
“She helped your daughter.”
“Where is she now?”
Marcus's eyes dropped.
“She died two years ago.”
Silence.
Claire felt a new wave of grief for a woman she had never met.
“Did she know me?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know my baby?”
“Yes.”
“And she knew where my daughter was?”
Marcus nodded.
“She gave me one instruction before she died.”
“What?”
“Find Claire.”
Claire looked down.
“Why?”
Marcus said nothing.
Daniel insisted.
“Why?”
Marcus slowly pulled another object from his coat.
A silver bracelet.
The same bracelet from the photograph.
On the inside were engraved two initials.
C.D.
Claire touched it with trembling fingers.
“Claire Daniel.”
Marcus corrected her.
“No.”
He looked at Daniel.
“Claire and Daniel.”
Together.
Claire began crying.
She didn't know why.
Something about the bracelet felt familiar.
Like holding a piece of a life someone had stolen from her.
Then Marcus said:
“Your daughter wasn't taken because of money.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Then why?”
“Because Evelyn believed someone else was her biological father.”
Claire froze.
Daniel's face hardened.
“What?”
Marcus looked at Evelyn.
“Tell him.”
Evelyn shook her head.
Marcus continued.
“Claire, before the accident, you were investigating Daniel's father.”
Claire frowned.
“Why would I?”
“Because you discovered something.”
“What?”
“A second family.”
Daniel stared.
“My father had another child.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
Claire looked at the photograph.
The little girl.
Her eyes.
Her face.
And suddenly Claire remembered the man with the blue tie.
The scar beneath his eye.
She whispered:
“I know him.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Who?”
She stared into the distance.
“Your father's other son.”
May you like
Marcus's expression turned grim.
“Then we're already too late.”
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