Chapter 3 - the box miriam was afraid to open
Miriam Hale lived in a small blue house at the edge of the city, surrounded by rosebushes she complained about but refused to remove.
Claire arrived the following morning without telling Richard.
She parked two streets away and walked the rest of the distance, feeling foolish for behaving as though she were being followed.
But Richard’s warning about the bracelet remained in her mind.
Eleanor Waverly notices everything.
Miriam opened the door before Claire knocked.
Her foster mother looked smaller than Claire remembered. Her white hair had been pulled into a loose knot, and deep lines surrounded her eyes.
“You came alone?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
Claire looked toward the street.
“No one followed me.”
Miriam locked the door after pulling her inside.
“Miriam, you’re frightening me.”
“I have been frightened since the night I found you.”
Claire followed her into the kitchen.
A metal box sat on the table.
It was old, darkened around the edges, and secured with a small padlock.
Miriam lowered herself into a chair.
“I lied to you.”
Claire did not move.
“About what?”
“About where I found you.”
The kitchen clock seemed suddenly too loud.
“You said I was outside Saint Catherine’s Clinic.”
“You were near the clinic, but you weren’t abandoned at the entrance.”
“Where was I?”
“In the back seat of my car.”
Claire stared at her.
Miriam’s eyes filled with shame.
“I was a nurse at the Waverly Grand the night of the fire. The hotel kept medical staff on duty during large events. There was a foundation dinner that evening.”
Claire slowly sat across from her.
“You worked at the Waverly Grand?”
Miriam nodded.
“When the fire started, everyone ran toward the ballroom. I went toward the service wing because I heard a child crying.”
Claire’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
“I found a woman carrying you through the underground garage. She was wearing a hotel coat over a white nurse’s uniform. She saw me and put you inside my car.”
“Why?”
“She said people were coming to kill you.”
Claire’s face went cold.
“Who was she?”
“I never knew her real name. The hotel called her Helena.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared before the police arrived.”
“And you kept me?”
“I intended to take you to the authorities.”
“Intended?”
Miriam looked down.
“A man found me before I could.”
Claire’s breath shortened.
“What man?”
“Graham Vale.”
Richard’s father.
The name seemed to alter the air between them.
“He told me the child had died in the fire,” Miriam continued. “He said if I told anyone you were alive, the people responsible would finish what they started. He gave me documents identifying you as Claire Hale, the orphaned daughter of a distant relative.”
“You believed him?”
“I believed the men standing behind him.”
Claire stood so quickly that her chair scraped across the floor.
“You let me grow up believing no one wanted me.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You could have told me when I was older.”
“I wanted to.”
“When?”
“Every birthday. Every time you asked where you came from. Every time you held that bracelet and wondered who had placed it on your wrist.”
Claire turned away, fighting tears.
Miriam pushed the metal box toward her.
“This contains everything I kept.”
Claire looked at the padlock.
“Where is the key?”
Miriam took a small brass key from beneath her collar.
Before she could hand it over, glass shattered in the sitting room.
Both women froze.
A dark shape moved beyond the kitchen doorway.
Miriam grabbed the box.
“Back door,” she whispered.
Claire stood.
Someone entered the hallway.
Miriam shoved the brass key into Claire’s hand.
“Go.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You have a child to protect.”
The kitchen door slammed against the wall.
A man in a black jacket rushed inside.
Claire saw only part of his face before Miriam threw a ceramic bowl toward him. It struck the wall, giving Claire enough time to run through the back door.
She crossed the garden and reached the alley.
Behind her, Miriam screamed.
Claire stopped.
Then she heard Miriam shout the one word that forced her to keep moving.
“Run!”
Claire ran until she reached her car.
She locked the doors and called emergency services.
As the operator answered, Claire looked down at the brass key in her hand.
May you like
A small symbol had been engraved into its head.
The same rose that decorated the entrance of the Waverly Grand Hotel.
