Chapter 2 - Tuesdays and Thursdays)
Fairview Children's Medical Center smelled exactly as Rachel remembered hospitals smelling when she was seventeen.
Disinfectant.
Coffee.
Fear.
She entered through the employee side door although she wasn't technically an employee.
Her temporary identification badge said:
RACHEL MERCER
COMMUNITY TRAUMA CONSULTANT
Thomas Whitaker had arranged it.
After the accident involving his children, the hospital board had asked Rachel to help build a family-response training program for volunteers and emergency staff.
Rachel had refused payment.
She had accepted one condition instead.
Access to archived records connected to the Fairview Youth Recovery Initiative.
That was the modern name.
Nineteen years earlier, it had operated under another name.
Mercer House.
Rachel took the elevator to the fourth floor.
Lily was waiting.
The eleven-year-old ran toward her.
"You're late."
"Three minutes."
"That's late."
Rachel smiled.
"You sound like your father."
Lily made a face.
Thomas stood near the windows talking with a physician.
He finished the conversation and approached.
"You got my messages."
Rachel nodded.
"Where is it?"
Thomas led her into a private boardroom.
Mason and Ava were coloring at the end of the table.
Rachel hugged them both.
Thomas opened a locked briefcase.
Inside was a leather-bound ledger.
Rachel immediately recognized the handwriting.
Her stomach turned.
"Where did you find this?"
"In storage belonging to my father."
Thomas's father, Edward Whitaker, had died six years earlier.
A philanthropist.
Developer.
Hospital donor.
Publicly respected.
Privately connected to Walter Mercer for nearly four decades.
Thomas placed the ledger in front of Rachel.
"Page forty-three."
Rachel opened it.
Dates.
Payments.
Initials.
Then names.
R. Vale.
E. Vale.
M. Torres.
J. Carter.
A. Price.
Seven children in total.
She counted twice.
Her hand began shaking.
"I've never seen this list."
Thomas pointed lower.
"Read the authorized signatures."
Rachel did.
Edward Whitaker.
Dr. Harold Vale.
Walter Mercer.
Rachel closed the ledger.
"No."
"Rachel."
"Walter couldn't have been involved."
"His signature is there."
"Daniel's father helped get me out."
Thomas stared at her.
"Are you certain?"
Rachel looked away.
Nineteen years earlier, an anonymous call had brought state investigators to Mercer House.
Six children were removed.
Rachel was one of them.
Emily was not.
Officials claimed Emily had died forty-eight hours earlier after running away and falling into the river.
No body had ever been shown to Rachel.
Months later, Walter Mercer had appeared at a charity hearing connected to the victims.
Years after that, Rachel met Daniel at a fundraising event.
Walter claimed not to remember her.
Rachel had believed him.
Or chosen to.
Thomas turned another page.
A line had been circled.
TRANSFER E.V. - NORTH PROGRAM
Rachel's breath caught.
"E.V."
"Emily Vale."
Rachel looked at him.
"North Program?"
"I don't know yet."
"Find out."
"I already started."
Rachel stood.
Thomas touched her arm.
"There's something else."
She turned.
"My father made payments to Walter for years after Mercer House closed."
"How many years?"
"Eighteen."
Rachel felt cold.
"Until when?"
Thomas looked at her carefully.
"Until three months before my father's death."
Rachel stared at the ledger.
"So Walter knew where Emily went."
"Possibly."
"No."
She looked at the signature.
"He knew."
Thomas closed the book.
"What are you going to tell Daniel?"
"Nothing."
"Rachel."
"Not until I know what this is."
"He's your husband."
"And Walter is his father."
Thomas fell silent.
Rachel looked through the glass wall at Lily, Mason, and Ava.
Those children trusted her because she had once appeared on the worst day of their lives.
Rachel understood that kind of trust.
Emily had been that person for her.
When Rachel arrived at Mercer House at fourteen, Emily had already survived three years there.
She taught Rachel where to hide food.
How to avoid certain staff.
Which floorboards made noise.
How to pretend to sleep.
And on the night the investigators arrived, Emily had made Rachel promise one thing.
If one of us gets out, she had whispered, that person comes back for the other.
Rachel got out.
Emily disappeared.
Rachel had lived nineteen years believing she'd failed her.
Now there was a possibility worse than death.
Emily might have survived.
And someone had hidden her.
Thomas walked toward the door.
"I'll call when I know what North Program means."
Rachel remained behind.
She opened the ledger again.
At the bottom of page forty-three was a handwritten note she hadn't noticed.
E.V. TRANSFER APPROVED.
Below it:
R.V. NOT SUITABLE.
Rachel stared at her own initials.
Then at the final line.
CONTACT W.M. IF SUBJECT RACHEL REMEMBERS BASEMENT.
Rachel's heart stopped.
May you like
She remembered the basement.
She had simply never told anyone.
