Chapter 4 - Her Mother’s Last Appointment
Anna’s mother, Rebecca, had died when Anna was thirteen.
The official story was simple.
Rebecca had suffered a sudden cardiac event while driving. Her car left the road and struck a tree.
Dr. Kessler, a respected medical examiner at the time, signed the report.
Anna had never questioned it.
Now, hidden behind Sylvia’s curtain, she listened as the same man discussed her unborn child as though it were laboratory equipment.
“A replacement for whom?” Aaron asked.
Kessler’s expression cooled.
“You know whom.”
“My mother refuses to explain anything.”
“Your mother understands the importance of limited information.”
“I’m her son.”
“You’re useful because you obey.”
Aaron leaned across the desk.
“I want to know what happens after Anna gives birth.”
“If the child meets the criteria, Anna’s role ends.”
Anna pressed a hand over her mouth.
Aaron looked toward the curtain.
She stopped breathing.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It means you will no longer require her cooperation.”
Aaron’s face tightened.
“You said she wouldn’t be harmed.”
“I said we would avoid unnecessary harm.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” Kessler replied. “It isn’t.”
He opened the red folder.
Inside were ultrasound images, blood results and a photograph of Anna sleeping.
“Her resistance is increasing,” Kessler said. “You need to raise the dosage.”
“She’s pregnant.”
“The compound has been tested extensively.”
“On whom?”
Kessler looked at him.
“Your mother.”
Aaron laughed nervously.
“My mother has never been pregnant.”
The silence that followed seemed to alter the air.
Kessler closed the folder.
“That is another piece of information you were not meant to have.”
Aaron stepped back.
“What are you saying?”
A door opened downstairs.
Sylvia’s voice carried through the house.
“Aaron?”
Kessler gathered the documents.
“We’ll continue this later.”
They left the office.
Anna remained behind the curtain until her knees nearly collapsed.
When the room was silent, she opened the cabinet and removed her file.
AV-05 contained dozens of pages.
Photographs from her childhood.
School medical records.
Therapy notes she had never seen.
A list of every romantic relationship she had ever had.
A report from the charity auction where she met Aaron.
Subject made initial visual contact at 8:42 p.m.
Subject responded positively to controlled disclosure of childhood loss.
Pairing recommendation approved.
The marriage had not been chance.
It had been an assignment.
Near the bottom of the box, Anna found a sealed envelope marked Rebecca Vale.
Inside was an appointment card.
Westbridge Women’s Clinic.
Dr. Evelyn Reed.
The date was two days before her mother died.
On the back, Rebecca had written a message.
If something happens to me, ask Evelyn about the seventh cup.
Anna heard a sound outside the office.
She returned the file and slipped the card into her sleeve.
The door opened.
Sylvia entered.
Anna stood beside the desk, unable to hide.
For a long moment, Sylvia said nothing.
Then she closed the door behind her.
“You have become more resourceful than expected.”
Anna forced herself not to look toward the cabinet.
“I was searching for pain medicine.”
“In my office?”
“I didn’t know where else to look.”
Sylvia approached.
“Your mother lied more convincingly.”
Anna’s heart stopped.
“You knew my mother.”
“I knew many women.”
“Was she part of your study?”
Sylvia examined Anna’s face.
“Rebecca was incapable of accepting sacrifice.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing she had not chosen.”
“She died.”
“People often die after making poor choices.”
Anna moved toward the door.
Sylvia blocked her.
“You should understand something. Aaron believes this family needs him. It does not. He is a bridge, nothing more.”
“A bridge to what?”
“To you.”
Sylvia placed a hand on Anna’s stomach.
Anna slapped it away.
Sylvia smiled.
“There she is.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“That anger belonged to your mother too.”
“Tell me what happened to her.”
“You already know.”
“No. I know what Kessler wrote.”
For the first time, Sylvia’s composure cracked.
“How much did you hear?”
Anna realized her mistake.
She stepped back.
Sylvia reached for the desk telephone.
Anna grabbed the silver letter opener and held it between them.
“Don’t call Aaron.”
Sylvia looked at the blade.
Then at Anna.
“You won’t use that.”
“I don’t need to.”
Anna struck the lamp instead.
The room plunged into darkness.
She ran.
Behind her, Sylvia did not scream for help.
May you like
She called one name.
“Rebecca.”
