Chapter 4
My sister had always been the one person I trusted without question.
When our father died, Claire held my hand at the funeral.
When Ryan proposed, Claire helped him choose the ring.
When I learned I was pregnant, she was the first person I called.
And when I discovered Ryan was cheating, Claire slept beside me on the couch while I cried until sunrise.
Now she stood in my hospital room admitting she had secretly met with his mistress.
“You met Jessica yesterday?”
Claire nodded.
“Why?”
“Because she contacted me.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“She said she had information about Ryan.”
My voice rose.
“So you went alone?”
“I thought I could find out what he was planning.”
“What did she tell you?”
Claire looked at Detective Morales.
“She said Ryan had become obsessed with keeping the baby.”
The detective pulled out her notebook.
“Be specific.”
Claire sat down slowly.
“She said he had been telling her that Emily was unstable.”
“I’m not unstable.”
“I know.”
Claire reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“What else?”
“She said Ryan wanted full custody after the divorce.”
“That isn’t a surprise.”
“No. But then she said something strange.”
“What?”
“He told Jessica that soon there wouldn’t be a custody fight.”
A chill moved through me.
“What did you think that meant?”
“I thought he had discovered something legally damaging. Or maybe he planned to pressure you into an agreement.”
“You didn’t think he planned to hurt me?”
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“If I had thought that for one second, I would have dragged you out of Phoenix myself.”
Detective Morales leaned forward.
“Where did you meet?”
“A coffee shop near Central Avenue.”
“What time?”
“Two.”
“That matches the message.”
Claire nodded.
“She arrived about ten minutes late.”
“Did anyone come with her?”
“No.”
“What did she say?”
Claire swallowed.
“She said she regretted the affair.”
I laughed.
“She hit me with her car less than twenty-four hours later.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“She said Ryan was using her.”
“For what?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Why not?”
“She got scared.”
“Of Ryan?”
Claire hesitated.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“She kept looking out the window.”
Detective Morales stopped writing.
“Did she mention anyone?”
“She said, ‘His mother knows more than he thinks.’”
Diane.
My mother-in-law.
Rachel crossed her arms.
“That aligns with the money transfer.”
I stared at Claire.
“You should have told me.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“You called me last night and talked about baby blankets for twenty minutes.”
“Because you sounded happy.”
“That was more important than telling me my husband might be planning something?”
Claire flinched.
“I made the wrong decision.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
My anger came fast because fear was underneath it.
I wanted someone to blame who hadn’t already betrayed me.
Claire was standing closest.
Then Lily’s monitor alarm sounded from inside the NICU room across the hall.
I forgot everything else.
“What happened?”
A nurse hurried past us.
I tried to stand.
Pain tore across my abdomen.
Rachel caught my shoulders.
“You can’t.”
“My baby!”
Another nurse entered.
“Emily, please stay in bed.”
“What happened to Lily?”
“She had a brief drop in oxygen.”
“Is she okay?”
“The NICU team is with her.”
I started crying.
“I need to see her.”
“We’ll come update you.”
I hated being helpless.
I hated the hospital bed.
The IV.
The stitches.
Ryan.
Jessica.
Every person who had turned my pregnancy into a crime scene.
Ten minutes later, the NICU doctor came in.
“Lily is stable.”
My body sagged with relief.
“What happened?”
“Premature babies sometimes have episodes where their breathing slows. We adjusted her respiratory support.”
“Can I see her?”
“In a little while.”
“Promise me she’s okay.”
“She is stable right now.”
Right now.
Those words stayed with me.
Everything in my life was only safe right now.
Nothing felt permanent anymore.
Detective Morales stepped into the hallway to take a call.
When she returned, she looked directly at Claire.
“We pulled surveillance from the coffee shop.”
Claire nodded.
“Good.”
“Jessica wasn’t alone.”
Claire frowned.
“Yes, she was.”
“She entered alone.”
“That’s what I said.”
“But another person arrived six minutes later and sat three tables behind you.”
“Who?”
Detective Morales showed us a still image on her phone.
The picture was grainy.
A woman in sunglasses sat near the window.
She had silver-blond hair cut to her shoulders.
Claire’s face went pale.
I recognized her immediately.
“Diane.”
My mother-in-law had been watching their meeting.
Rachel took the phone.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said.
Diane wore those oversized sunglasses everywhere.
She had bought them on a trip to Scottsdale and bragged about the price for months.
Claire whispered, “I never saw her.”
“She may not have wanted you to.”
Detective Morales put away the phone.
“We tried contacting her.”
“And?”
“She isn’t at home.”
My heart beat faster.
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know.”
Rachel checked her own phone.
“My investigator was supposed to serve her notice preserving financial records.”
“And?”
“No answer.”
The detective continued.
“Her vehicle is also gone.”
Claire looked at me.
“She ran.”
“We don’t know that.”
“She transferred our money to her company and disappears the day Ryan gets arrested?”
I looked at Detective Morales.
“She ran.”
My phone buzzed again.
Another unknown number.
This time the message included a photograph.
Lily.
Inside the NICU.
Taken through the glass.
My scream brought two nurses running.
“Who took this?”
Detective Morales grabbed my phone.
The image was timestamped four minutes earlier.
Someone was inside the hospital.
Someone watching my daughter.
The message beneath the photo read:
Beautiful baby. Ryan was right. She looks like his side of the family.
Detective Morales called hospital security immediately.
“Lock down NICU access. Now.”
A nurse hurried toward Lily’s room.
Claire stood in front of my bed as if she could shield me from whoever was out there.
Rachel closed the room door.
“Who has access to this floor?”
“Parents. Staff. Approved visitors,” the nurse said.
“Diane?”
I looked at the nurse.
“Did anyone authorize my mother-in-law?”
She checked the computer.
“No.”
“Jessica?”
“No.”
“Ryan?”
“No.”
“Then how did someone take that picture?”
Nobody answered.
Hospital security arrived.
They reviewed hallway cameras.
For forty minutes, we waited.
Every sound made me jump.
Then a security supervisor entered.
“We found the person.”
“Who?”
He showed us footage.
A woman wearing blue scrubs had entered through a staff elevator.
She carried a clipboard.
Her face was partially covered with a surgical mask.
She stopped outside the NICU for twelve seconds.
Long enough to take the photograph.
“Is she an employee?” Rachel asked.
“No.”
Detective Morales narrowed her eyes.
“Can you track where she went?”
The supervisor switched videos.
The woman entered a stairwell.
Then emerged on the first floor.
At the exit, she removed the mask.
I leaned closer.
My blood turned cold.
I knew her.
“Who is that?” Detective Morales asked.
“My mother-in-law’s housekeeper.”
Claire stared at me.
“Maria?”
I nodded.
Maria Alvarez had worked for Diane for almost fifteen years.
She had attended our wedding.
She had brought soup when I was sick.
She had knitted Lily a blanket.
“What was she doing here?”
Nobody knew.
Detective Morales immediately ordered officers to find her.
Twenty minutes later, Maria called me herself.
I stared at the screen.
“Answer it,” the detective said.
She activated a recorder.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Maria?”
Her breathing was heavy.
“Emily, I’m sorry.”
“Why were you photographing my daughter?”
“I needed proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That she was alive.”
My stomach twisted.
“For who?”
Maria started crying.
“I didn’t know they would hurt you.”
“Who is they?”
“I thought they were only going to frighten you.”
“That sounds exactly like Ryan.”
“No.”
Silence.
I gripped the blanket.
“Then who?”
Maria whispered, “Mrs. Carter.”
Diane.
Claire cursed under her breath.
“What did Diane tell you to do?”
“She paid me to give her your appointment schedule.”
The room went silent.
“You gave Ryan my schedule?”
“No. Mrs. Carter.”
“Why?”
“She said she was documenting that you were an irresponsible mother.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.”
“Where is Diane now?”
Maria sobbed.
“I don’t know.”
“Maria.”
“She made me bring her a suitcase this morning.”
“Where?”
“A motel near the airport.”
Detective Morales started writing.
“What motel?” I asked.
Maria gave the name.
Then she whispered, “Emily, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Mrs. Carter kept a box in her office.”
“What box?”
“I found it two weeks ago.”
“What was inside?”
“Documents.”
“What kind?”
“Adoption papers.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“For Lily?”
“No.”
I frowned.
“Then for who?”
Maria’s next words changed everything.
“For Ryan.”
I stopped breathing.
“What are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Carter isn’t Ryan’s biological mother.”
The phone shook in my hand.
“That’s impossible.”
“I saw the paperwork.”
“Who is his mother?”
Maria cried harder.
“I don’t know.”
Then a loud bang came through the phone.
Maria screamed.
The call ended.
“Maria!”
Nothing.
Detective Morales was already moving.
“Trace the phone.”
I stared at the dead screen.
A final message appeared from Maria’s number.
It contained only a photograph.
An old adoption certificate.
May you like
And beneath Ryan’s original name were two words I had seen before.
Saguaro Children’s Home.
