Chapter 8 - Walter's Confession)
Walter had not suffered a heart attack.
He had experienced severe hypertension after receiving a package at his office.
By the time Rachel and Daniel reached the hospital, Walter was stable.
Elaine sat beside him.
Brooke waited outside.
Walter saw Rachel through the glass and asked for her.
Alone.
Daniel protested.
Walter insisted.
Rachel entered.
Walter looked exhausted.
"What package?"
He pointed toward the bedside cabinet.
Inside was a plain envelope.
Rachel opened it.
One photograph.
Emily.
Recent.
Standing outside a train station.
On the back were six handwritten words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HER DIE.
Rachel's blood went cold.
"Who sent this?"
"No return address."
"When was the picture taken?"
"I don't know."
Rachel studied it.
Emily looked older than the clinic photograph.
Thinner.
But alive.
"Walter."
He looked at her.
"You are going to tell me everything."
He closed his eyes.
Rachel waited.
Finally he spoke.
"My father bought Mercer House as an investment."
"Samuel."
"Yes."
"He knew what happened there?"
"At first, no."
"And later?"
Walter nodded.
"My father owed Edward Whitaker money. Edward introduced him to Harold Vale."
Rachel sat beside the bed.
"Emily's father."
"Yes."
"They wanted properties where the program could operate quietly."
"What program?"
Walter looked ashamed.
"They believed traumatized children could be conditioned."
Rachel felt sick.
"Conditioned to do what?"
"Obey. Forget. Transfer attachment. Suppress memories."
She stood.
"Children were experiments."
"Yes."
"Did you know?"
"Not when I signed the first documents."
"When did you know?"
"Six months later."
"And you did nothing?"
"I tried."
Rachel laughed bitterly.
"You signed transfer forms."
"To get children out."
She stopped.
Walter looked at her.
"The North Program wasn't one organization. It was dozens of private placements. Some were worse. Some were legitimate facilities that didn't know the children's histories were falsified."
"Emily?"
"I arranged her transfer."
"Where?"
"St. Matthew's Behavioral Clinic in Indiana."
"Why?"
"Because Harold was going to kill her."
Rachel froze.
"What?"
"Emily knew too much."
Rachel stared at him.
"Her own father?"
Walter nodded.
"Emily discovered the medical records. She was stealing copies."
Rachel remembered Emily hiding papers beneath floorboards.
The memory hit so hard she had to sit.
Walter continued.
"That night in the basement, Harold found her."
"The blood."
"He struck her."
Rachel looked at Walter's wrist.
"The silver watch."
"Mine."
"You carried her."
"Yes."
Rachel's voice shook.
"What was behind the metal door?"
Walter turned away.
Rachel stood.
"What was behind it?"
"A room."
"What kind of room?"
Walter's breathing changed.
"A conditioning room."
Rachel remembered red lights.
Speakers.
Children crying.
She covered her mouth.
Walter continued.
"You opened the door."
Rachel's stomach twisted.
"I remember."
"You triggered an alarm."
"And Emily ran toward me."
"Yes."
"What happened after?"
"Harold hit her. You attacked him."
Rachel froze.
"I did what?"
"You picked up a metal tray."
"No."
"You hit him."
Rachel shook her head.
"No."
"Rachel."
"No."
"You were fourteen."
"Did I kill him?"
"No."
She exhaled.
"Then what does Emily mean when she says I don't know what I did?"
Walter stared at her.
"I don't know."
"Liar."
"I swear."
Rachel moved toward the door.
"Wait."
She stopped.
Walter whispered, "Harold died eight years later."
Rachel turned.
"How?"
"Car accident."
"And Emily?"
"I kept paying for her care. She remembered me eventually."
"Why not me?"
"I asked."
Rachel's heart tightened.
"What did she say?"
Walter looked at her with a sadness she had never seen before.
"She said remembering you hurt too much."
Rachel turned away.
Walter continued.
"Three years ago, her memories became clearer. She became obsessed with finding someone."
"Who?"
Walter hesitated.
Rachel looked back.
"Who?"
"A child."
Rachel frowned.
"What child?"
Walter reached toward the bedside cabinet.
Another envelope.
He handed it to her.
Inside was an old birth record.
Rachel read it once.
Then again.
Female infant.
Mother:
Emily Vale.
Rachel stared at Walter.
"Emily had a baby?"
"According to that document."
"When?"
"Six months after Mercer House closed."
Rachel's knees weakened.
"She was fifteen."
Walter nodded.
Rachel's voice dropped.
"Who was the father?"
"The record doesn't say."
She looked again.
The infant's name had been blacked out.
"Where is the child?"
May you like
Walter closed his eyes.
"That's what Emily disappeared to find."
