CHAPTER 6 — THE WOMAN WHO GAVE BIRTH TO OLIVER
Ryan stared at the computer screen.
He read the name again.
Then again.
His mind refused to accept it.
CLAIRE WHITMORE.
The nurse stood beside the monitor.
“This is the name listed on the original record.”
Ryan looked at Maya.
She was completely frozen.
“That’s not me,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“Ryan…”
“I know.”
But knowing didn't make it less terrifying.
The nurse continued.
“According to the original entry, Claire Whitmore was listed as the biological mother.”
Ryan swallowed.
“Who is Claire?”
The nurse hesitated.
“I don't know. I'm only reading what's in the system.”
Ryan turned toward the photograph in his hand.
There she was.
The same woman.
Standing beside his father.
Wearing the silver pendant.
Holding a newborn baby.
The baby was wrapped in the blue blanket.
The same blanket Oliver had slept with every night since birth.
Ryan looked at the photograph again.
“Where did this come from?”
“I don't know,” Maya whispered.
Ryan turned toward the nurse.
“Can you print the original record?”
“I shouldn't.”
“Please.”
The nurse looked at his face.
Then at Oliver.
Finally, she nodded.
“I'll see what I can access.”
She walked away.
Ryan remained motionless.
Maya came closer.
“Ryan.”
He looked at her.
“Tell me the truth.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“What?”
“When Oliver was born... was there anything unusual?”
Maya shook her head.
“No.”
“Anything at all?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
She took a breath.
“I remember everything.”
Ryan said nothing.
Maya continued.
“I remember the delivery room. I remember holding him. I remember you crying.”
Ryan almost smiled.
It was the only warm memory in the room.
“You cried harder than I did,” Maya whispered.
“I know.”
“But then…”
She stopped.
Ryan noticed.
“Then what?”
Maya looked down.
“There was one thing.”
“What?”
“The nurse took Oliver away for almost twenty minutes.”
Ryan frowned.
“Why?”
“She said they needed to check his breathing.”
“Did they?”
“I thought so.”
“Did you see him?”
“Not during those twenty minutes.”
Ryan's stomach tightened.
“Who brought him back?”
Maya closed her eyes.
“I don't remember.”
Ryan stared at her.
“You don't remember?”
“It was three years ago. I was exhausted.”
“But you remember everything else.”
“I know.”
Maya's voice became shaky.
“I remember the nurse who took him.”
Ryan leaned closer.
“What did she look like?”
“Dark hair.”
“Anything else?”
“She wore a silver necklace.”
Ryan's eyes widened.
“What kind?”
Maya looked at the photograph.
“The same one.”
Silence.
Ryan looked at the woman in the photograph.
Claire.
Then at the silver pendant.
Then at Oliver.
His heart began pounding.
Someone had been inside that delivery room.
Someone connected to his father.
Someone connected to Evelyn.
And somehow, the hospital record had been changed.
Ryan's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He opened the message.
DON'T ASK THE HOSPITAL ABOUT CLAIRE.
A second message appeared.
THEY WILL LIE TO YOU.
Ryan looked around the room.
“Someone knows what we're doing.”
Maya whispered:
“Ryan…”
He showed her the messages.
Her hands began shaking.
Then a third message arrived.
ASK YOUR MOTHER WHERE NOAH WENT.
Ryan stared at the name.
Noah.
The baby from the photograph.
The baby who had existed before Oliver.
The baby whose name appeared on the original photograph.
“What is this?” Maya asked.
“I don't know.”
Ryan suddenly remembered something.
His mother had once kept an old box in the attic.
He had seen it as a teenager.
She had screamed at him when he touched it.
He had never understood why.
Inside had been baby clothes.
A hospital bracelet.
And a photograph.
He had forgotten about it until now.
Ryan stood.
“I need to go home.”
Maya immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“I need to find that box.”
“Ryan, someone is watching Oliver.”
“Exactly.”
“You can't leave us.”
Ryan stopped.
She was right.
He looked at his son.
Then he called the officer.
“I need someone to go to my house.”
“Why?”
“I think there are more documents hidden there.”
“What kind?”
“Records about my family.”
The officer was silent.
Then:
“Ryan, we already searched the nursery.”
“You didn't search the attic.”
Another pause.
“We'll send someone.”
“Thank you.”
Ryan ended the call.
Then the nurse returned.
She was carrying a printed document.
But her expression was different.
She looked nervous.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“Yes?”
“I found the original record.”
Ryan took it.
His eyes moved across the page.
Mother:
Claire Whitmore.
Father:
Daniel Whitmore.
Child:
Noah Daniel Whitmore.
Ryan's fingers tightened around the paper.
“That's not Oliver.”
“No.”
Maya stared at the document.
“What happened to Noah?”
The nurse lowered her voice.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The record shows the birth was followed by an emergency transfer.”
“To where?”
The nurse looked at the screen.
“Another hospital.”
“Which one?”
She hesitated.
Then gave him the name.
Ryan recognized it immediately.
His father's old hospital.
The same hospital where Daniel had supposedly died twenty-two years earlier.
Ryan felt a chill move through him.
“Why would a newborn be transferred there?”
“I don't know.”
“Can you find out?”
The nurse shook her head.
“Those records are sealed.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Ryan stared at her.
“Someone knows.”
The nurse didn't answer.
Then Oliver stirred.
His eyes opened slightly.
“Daddy…”
Ryan immediately moved to the bed.
“I'm here.”
Oliver looked around.
Then his face changed.
He became frightened.
Ryan leaned closer.
“What is it?”
Oliver pointed toward the door.
“Her.”
Ryan turned.
Nobody was there.
“What woman?”
Oliver's breathing quickened.
“The lady.”
Maya moved closer.
“What lady, sweetheart?”
Oliver pointed again.
“She came before.”
Ryan felt his blood run cold.
“Who came before?”
“The lady with Grandma.”
Maya looked at Ryan.
Ryan crouched beside his son.
“What did she look like?”
Oliver closed his eyes.
“Pretty.”
“Did she have dark hair?”
Oliver nodded.
“Did she wear a necklace?”
Another nod.
“Silver?”
Oliver whispered:
“She had Grandma's necklace.”
Ryan couldn't breathe.
Claire.
The woman in the photograph.
The woman listed as Oliver's biological mother.
The woman connected to Daniel.
The woman who apparently had been inside the hospital.
Ryan stood.
“Where did she go?”
Oliver pointed toward the door.
“She said she was going to get my medicine.”
Ryan's heart stopped.
“Oliver…”
“What?”
“Did she give you anything?”
Oliver shook his head.
“No.”
“What did she say?”
Oliver looked frightened.
“She said…”
He began trembling.
Ryan took his hand.
“What did she say?”
Oliver whispered:
“She said Mommy wasn't my real mommy.”
Maya covered her mouth.
Ryan felt something inside him break.
“No.”
Oliver began crying.
“She said Daddy would take me away.”
Ryan turned toward the door.
The hallway was empty.
But then he noticed something on the floor.
A silver chain.
Ryan picked it up.
Attached to it was a tiny pendant.
He recognized it immediately.
The same design Evelyn had worn for decades.
Except this one had a tiny engraving on the back.
Ryan turned it over.
Three letters were carved into the metal.
C.W.
Claire Whitmore.
Ryan's hands went numb.
His phone vibrated again.
This time, the message wasn't from an unknown number.
It came from Evelyn.
Ryan, don't trust Claire.
A second message followed.
She is not the woman in the photograph.
Ryan stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
The woman you think is Claire died twenty-two years ago.
Ryan's heart stopped.
He looked at the pendant.
Then at the photograph.
Then at Oliver.
His entire understanding of the night collapsed again.
If Claire was dead...
Who had been wearing her necklace?
And who had walked into his son's hospital room?
Before Ryan could process it, the hospital lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the hallway went dark.
A scream came from the nurses' station.
Ryan grabbed Maya.
The emergency lights turned red.
And from somewhere down the corridor came the sound of slow footsteps.
Someone was walking toward Oliver's room.
Ryan stepped in front of his son.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
A woman's voice whispered:
“Ryan?”
He knew that voice.
It was the voice from the photograph.
May you like
The voice of the woman who supposedly died twenty-two years ago.
The door handle slowly began to turn.
