Chapter 8: What Claire Found
I ran.
Ethan shouted my name behind me, but I didn’t stop.
The storage hallway stretched ahead under fluorescent lights.
Claire disappeared around the corner.
“Claire!””
My voice echoed between the metal doors.
She stopped.
Slowly, she turned.
Her face went pale when she saw us.
“Lauren?””
“What are you doing here?””
She looked at Ethan.
“You brought her?””
“I didn’t know you were here,” he said.
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“Then how did you find me?””
“The hospital.””
Whatever anger had been on her face vanished.
“What happened?””
“Someone stole Ava’s file.””
Claire froze.
“When?””
“Last night.””
She whispered, “No.””
I stepped closer.
“You knew about this unit.””
She looked toward door 214.
“Yes.””
“How?””
“Melissa.””
Of course.
Every answer was Melissa.
“Open it.””
Claire shook her head.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then help me understand.””
“Lauren, there are things in there you’re not ready to see.””
I stared at her.
“You slept with my husband in my bed. Don’t pretend you care about protecting me.””
Her face flinched.
Ethan stepped between us.
“Claire, open the unit.””
She looked at him.
“You really want her to know everything?””
“Yes.””
I turned toward Ethan.
“Everything?””
He didn’t look away this time.
“Yes.””
Claire pulled a key from her handbag.
My stomach dropped.
“You have a key?””
“She gave it to me three years ago.””
“Melissa?””
Claire nodded.
“Before she disappeared.””
The lock clicked.
The metal door rolled upward.
Dusty air drifted out.
Inside were plastic containers, old furniture, two filing cabinets, and several sealed cardboard boxes.
Nothing looked dramatic.
Nothing looked worth destroying a family over.
Claire walked toward the back.
“She told me never to open this unless something happened to her.””
“You waited three years?””
“I was afraid.””
“Of Melissa?””
Claire shook her head.
“Of whoever Melissa was afraid of.””
She opened the first filing cabinet.
Empty.
The second was locked.
Ethan found a screwdriver on a shelf and forced the drawer.
Inside were dozens of folders.
Each had a date.
Claire searched quickly.
Then stopped.
“There.””
The date Ava was born.
I reached for the folder.
Claire caught my wrist.
“Lauren.””
“Let go.””
She did.
Inside were photocopies of hospital logs.
Staff schedules.
Medication charts.
And handwritten notes.
Melissa’s handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
She used to leave ridiculous notes on my refrigerator in college.
*Buy milk, traitor.*
*Your turn to clean.*
Now that same handwriting filled pages with names, times, room numbers.
One sentence had been circled repeatedly.
*Baby Bennett removed from mother’s room at 1:42 a.m.*
Another:
*Returned at 3:06 a.m.*
Eighty-four minutes.
My hands trembled.
“Where was Ava?””
Claire answered quietly.
“That’s what Melissa was trying to discover.””
I turned another page.
*No authorized test scheduled.*
I felt sick.
Ethan put his hand on my shoulder.
I pulled away.
“Don’t.””
He lowered it.
Claire opened another box.
Inside were photographs.
Hospital hallways.
Nurses.
A service elevator.
Then I saw Melissa.
She was standing beside a woman in scrubs.
The woman’s face was partly turned away.
But I knew her.
“No.””
Ethan stepped closer.
“What?””
I held up the photograph.
“That’s my mother.””
Neither of them spoke.
My mother, Diane, had been at the hospital the night Ava was born.
She had held my hand through labor.
She had cried when Ava arrived.
And she had always claimed she went home shortly after midnight because she felt sick.
But the timestamp on the photograph read 2:08 a.m.
Twenty-six minutes after Ava had been taken from my room.
Claire whispered, “Lauren, I didn’t know that was your mother.””
I flipped the photograph over.
Melissa had written five words on the back.
*Diane knows where they took her.*
My knees weakened.
Ethan grabbed a chair.
I sat.
“No.””
Memories began changing shape inside my head.
My mother insisting I rest.
My mother telling me not to worry when Ava was gone longer than expected.
My mother arguing with someone outside my room.
I had been exhausted.
Medicated.
I had forgotten.
Or maybe I had been encouraged to forget.
My phone rang.
Mom.
I stared at her name.
Claire whispered, “Don’t answer.””
I answered.
“Mom?””
Silence.
Then her breathing.
“Lauren, where are you?””
My blood chilled.
“Why?””
“Just tell me.””
I looked at the photograph.
“At Melissa’s storage unit.””
My mother stopped breathing for what felt like forever.
Then she whispered:
“Get out of there.””
“Why?””
“Lauren, listen to me.””
“No. You listen. Why were you in the hospital hallway at two in the morning?””
Silence.
“Mom?””
Her voice broke.
“Because Melissa saw something she was never supposed to see.””
“What?””
My mother started crying.
May you like
Then she said:
“She saw who carried Ava into the elevator.””
