Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN ROOM 214
The baby's heartbeat filled the examination room in quick, steady pulses.
Elias had never heard a sound so small command so much space. He sat beside the hospital bed with Kristin's cold hand between both of his, staring at the monitor while Dr. Laila Chen moved the ultrasound wand across Kristin's abdomen.
The child is alive, Dr. Chen said. The heart rate is strong. There is no sign of placental separation. That is the good news.
Elias let out a breath that seemed to have been trapped since the shed door opened.
And the bad news?
She is dehydrated, hypothermic, and there is a sedative in her blood. Not a large amount, but enough to cause weakness and confusion. We are keeping her overnight. Maybe longer.
Elias looked at the bruising on Kristin's wrist. Someone had cleaned the mud from her face, and without it she looked even paler.
Could the sedative hurt the baby?
We do not know the dose or the exact time she received it. We will monitor both of them closely.
The doctor lowered her voice.
Mr. Vale, the marks on your wife's wrist are consistent with restraint. There are older bruises on her upper arm. Did she tell you anyone had hurt her before tonight?
No.
The word came too quickly. Elias heard the defense in it, as if the doctor had accused him. Then memory supplied what loyalty had hidden. Kristin wearing long sleeves on a hot morning. Kristin pulling away when Georgia entered the kitchen. Kristin asking whether they could move before the baby came. His own impatient answer: Mom is difficult, but she loves us.
He lowered his head.
I did not ask the right questions.
Dr. Chen held his gaze without softening the truth.
Ask them when she wakes.
Officer Bell waited in the corridor. Georgia was in custody on suspicion of unlawful imprisonment and assault, but the detective warned that the situation was already becoming complicated. Georgia claimed she had found Kristin inside the shed destroying family property. She said the lock had been placed on the door only after Kristin attacked her and that she intended to call for help.
She never called, Elias said.
No. You did. Bell opened a small evidence bag. Inside was the brass padlock key. We found this in your mother's dress pocket.
Then why is it complicated?
Because your mother has an attorney named Roland Pierce, and he arrived at the station before we did. Because she says your wife has a history of delusions. Because someone delivered copies of private medical records showing that Kristin was treated for anxiety after her father's death.
Anxiety is not delusion.
I know that. A courtroom may know it too. But Pierce is building a story before your wife can tell hers.
Bell gave him another bag. A narrow piece of paper lay inside, damp and stained where it had been hidden in the torn lining of Kristin's dress.
It read: EVELYN VALE, WILLOW HOUSE, ROOM 214.
Who is Evelyn Vale? Bell asked.
I do not know.
The answer was true, yet the name had begun to move through him like a half-remembered melody. He saw a yellow bicycle at the edge of a lawn. A girl's hand closing around his. A voice telling him not to be afraid of thunder.
Then the image vanished.
I was an only child, he said.
Bell watched him more carefully. Was?
Am. I am an only child.
She told him the old carving in the shed would be photographed and examined. The letters forming Evelyn were weathered and had probably been there for many years. The letters forming Kristin were fresh. A bent nail, marked with blood and tissue, had been found beside her.
Your wife carved both names?
No. The older name was already there.
Bell said nothing for a moment.
Willow House closed twelve years ago. It used to be a private psychiatric facility outside Glenhaven. I have someone checking archived patient records, but those files will be restricted.
Elias felt the floor tilt beneath him.
My father died near Glenhaven.
When?
Nineteen years ago. A car accident. My mother said he drove off the road after drinking.
Did you see the report?
I was twelve.
Bell wrote something in her notebook.
Back in the room, Kristin slept with one hand over the slight curve of her stomach. Elias sat in the dark and listened to the monitors. Near midnight her eyes opened.
She saw him and began to cry without sound.
He leaned toward her. I am sorry.
For finding me?
For every time you tried to tell me something was wrong and I made it smaller because the truth frightened me.
Kristin closed her eyes. He thought she had gone back to sleep until she said, Your mother did not want to kill me tonight.
Elias gripped the rail of the bed.
What did she want?
She wanted to know where I hid the blue folder.
What is in it?
Proof that Evelyn existed. Proof that Georgia has been paying someone to keep her hidden.
The door opened.
A man in pale hospital scrubs entered carrying a tray. His surgical mask covered most of his face, and his identification badge was turned backward.
Kristin's fingers tightened around Elias's.
I did not order anything, she said.
May you like
The man set the tray down. On it was a syringe.
Then he reached for the line connected to Kristin's arm.
