Chapter 10 - Hannah Comes Back
Hannah Reed had spent six weeks being told she was overreacting.
By Michael.
By Patricia.
By police officers.
By a wellness-check officer who had stood in Michael's foyer while Michael showed him a video of Claire crying and asking everyone to leave her alone.
The officer had never known that Michael recorded the clip only after standing behind the camera and telling Claire that if she mentioned the lock, he would stop her sister from seeing the baby forever.
Hannah had known something was wrong before Claire did.
Michael isolated people politely.
That was his gift.
He never said, "You can't see Hannah."
He said, "Hannah stresses you out."
He never said, "Don't call your sister."
He said, "Shouldn't we learn to solve our marriage problems ourselves?"
He never said, "I hate her."
He said, "I just wish she respected our boundaries."
By the time Claire noticed the distance, she believed she had chosen it.
Hannah blamed herself for allowing it.
That was why she had hidden the old phone.
It was not part of a grand plan.
It was insurance.
She had slipped it behind the attic wall months earlier after discovering Michael kept a folder on his computer titled PRIVATE FAMILY MATTERS.
She had not opened the folder.
Michael walked in.
They argued.
He accused her of snooping.
Claire defended him.
Hannah left furious.
Before leaving, she hid the phone.
She never imagined Claire would actually need it.
Now Hannah sat in an unmarked police vehicle two streets away from the Bennett house.
Beside her was Detective Lena Ortiz.
In front sat Assistant District Attorney Marcus Bell.
Hannah held her own phone so tightly her fingers hurt.
The latest audio from Claire had arrived in fragments.
Patricia discussing preventing Claire from leaving with a recording.
Michael discussing Green Hollow.
The custody plan.
The transfer.
It was enough for Bell to request emergency action.
But Michael's attorney had complicated everything by submitting videos and medical statements claiming Claire suffered from severe pregnancy-related psychiatric instability.
Detective Ortiz turned around.
"We are going in."
Hannah stared at her.
"Now?"
Ortiz nodded.
"The judge signed."
Hannah's eyes filled with tears.
"Can I come?"
"No."
"She's my sister."
"And if this turns into a confrontation, you are another person we have to protect."
Hannah wanted to argue.
Instead she nodded.
"Bring her out."
Ortiz's expression softened.
"That's the plan."
At the house, Claire did not know any of this.
Her phone died at 1:46 a.m.
The screen went black.
No more messages.
No more recording.
No connection.
Claire sat in the darkness.
She had uploaded enough.
She repeated that to herself.
Enough existed outside the house.
Enough existed with Hannah.
Enough existed with the lawyer.
Still, without the phone, the attic felt different.
Smaller.
She rested one hand on her stomach.
The baby moved.
"Your aunt is coming," Claire whispered.
At 2:10 a.m., the door opened.
Michael entered.
No camera.
His face was pale.
"Get dressed."
Claire's body tensed.
"Why?"
"We're leaving early."
"What time?"
"Now."
Claire looked toward the window.
"It's two in the morning."
"Green Hollow said they can receive you."
Claire stood slowly.
"No."
Michael stepped closer.
"Don't start."
"I'm not going."
"You don't have a choice."
"Yes, I do."
"Legally, you may not."
Claire stared.
He smiled.
"Dr. Kline signed an emergency recommendation."
"He never examined me."
"He doesn't need to."
"That's fraud."
Michael's eyes changed.
Claire continued.
"Hannah knows."
That was a risk.
She took it anyway.
Michael went still.
"How?"
Claire said nothing.
His gaze dropped to her clothing.
"Phone."
Claire backed away.
"Where is it?"
He grabbed her shoulder.
Claire shoved him.
Michael stumbled into the chair.
For a second both looked shocked.
Claire had never fought back physically.
Michael's face twisted.
He rushed forward.
Then Patricia shouted from downstairs.
"Michael!"
He stopped.
"What?"
"Car's here."
Claire's blood went cold.
Green Hollow.
They had sent someone.
Michael grabbed the garment bag.
"Put this on."
"No."
"We don't have time."
Claire looked toward the door.
The hallway beyond him.
If she ran, could she reach downstairs?
Seven months pregnant.
Weak.
No shoes.
Michael in front.
Patricia below.
No.
She needed another opening.
Claire suddenly bent forward and gasped.
Michael froze.
"What?"
Claire clutched her stomach.
"The baby."
His anger vanished.
Not from concern.
Fear of complications.
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
She gasped again.
"Pain."
Michael called downstairs.
"Mom!"
Patricia hurried up.
Claire lowered herself to the floor.
"My stomach."
Patricia crouched.
"Contractions?"
"I don't know."
Michael looked terrified.
"We can't take her like this."
Patricia snapped, "Don't be stupid."
"What if she's in labor?"
"She's seven months."
"Exactly!"
They began arguing.
Again.
Always arguing when control became uncertain.
Claire leaned against the wall and watched the door.
Open.
Michael stood near the stairs.
Patricia turned toward the feeding equipment.
Claire moved.
She pushed herself up and slipped past Michael.
He realized too late.
"Claire!"
She ran.
Not fast.
But fast enough.
Down the hallway.
Past Michael's office.
Toward the stairs.
Patricia screamed behind her.
Michael chased.
Claire reached the top step.
Then headlights swept through the front windows.
Several vehicles.
Doors slammed.
Claire froze.
Michael nearly collided with her.
Blue lights flashed.
Patricia stopped behind them.
Someone pounded on the front door.
"POLICE!"
Claire began laughing.
She could not help it.
Michael stared at her.
Patricia whispered, "No."
Claire looked at both of them.
"They came."
Michael recovered first.
"Back upstairs."
He grabbed her arm.
Claire screamed.
"HELP!"
The pounding intensified.
"POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!"
Michael dragged her backward.
Claire held the railing.
Patricia rushed toward the stairs.
"Get her inside!"
Then the front door shook violently.
Once.
Twice.
Michael's grip tightened.
May you like
Claire screamed again.
And the front door burst open.
