Chapter 6 - The Doctor Who Never Examined Her
Dr. Warren Kline became Claire's obsession.
She repeated the name silently until she could not forget it.
When Patricia entered the next morning, Claire casually asked, "Is my doctor coming?"
Patricia frowned.
"What?"
"I thought Michael said another doctor might come."
Patricia looked toward the hallway.
"Who told you that?"
Claire shrugged.
"I don't remember."
That phrase had become one of her best weapons.
I don't remember.
It encouraged them.
It reassured them.
It made Patricia arrogant.
"No one is coming."
"Okay."
Patricia watched her for another moment.
Then changed the feeding bag.
Claire lowered her eyes.
"What's Dr. Kline like?"
Patricia froze.
Claire heard the plastic tube stop moving.
"What did you say?"
"Dr. Kline."
Patricia's voice sharpened.
"Where did you hear that name?"
Claire looked confused.
"You said it."
"I never said that."
"Oh."
"When?"
Claire shrugged.
"I don't know."
Patricia leaned closer.
"Claire, think."
She pretended to struggle.
"Maybe Michael."
Patricia disconnected the syringe too quickly.
"I'll be back."
She left.
The door locked.
Claire immediately grabbed the hidden phone and moved into the closet near the vent.
Voices downstairs.
Patricia.
Angry.
"She knows Kline's name."
Michael answered.
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Did you say it?"
"No."
"Then how the hell would she know?"
Claire pressed her ear closer.
Patricia whispered something she could not hear.
Michael responded more loudly.
"The court filing isn't public to her."
Claire almost smiled.
Hannah's lawyer was right.
They were rattled.
Patricia said, "Check her room."
Claire moved.
Fast.
She shoved the phone beneath the loose board.
Straightened the rug.
Closed the closet.
Returned to the chair.
Thirty seconds later the latch snapped open.
Michael entered first.
Patricia behind him.
"What happened?" Claire asked.
Michael smiled too broadly.
"Nothing."
He looked around the room.
Then at her.
"Mom says you asked about a doctor."
"Did I?"
His smile disappeared slightly.
"You don't remember?"
Claire touched her forehead.
"No."
Michael exchanged a look with Patricia.
Then he began searching.
Desk.
Bathroom.
Drawers.
Claire watched.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my charger."
"In the bathroom?"
Michael ignored her.
Patricia opened the closet.
Claire's pulse pounded.
Patricia pushed clothes aside.
Looked at the floor.
Claire forced herself not to move.
Then Michael's phone rang.
He answered.
"Hello?"
His expression changed.
"What?"
Patricia turned.
Michael walked toward the window.
"No, she isn't available."
Pause.
"I said she isn't available."
Claire immediately understood.
Lawyer.
Maybe the court.
Michael looked at Patricia.
"Who gave you this number?"
Pause.
His face darkened.
"Hannah."
He ended the call.
Patricia whispered, "What?"
"Attorney."
Claire stared at the floor.
Michael turned toward her.
"You've been talking to Hannah."
Claire looked up slowly.
"No."
"Don't lie."
"I haven't."
"Then why did she hire a lawyer?"
Claire let confusion enter her face.
"For me?"
Michael studied her.
He did not know.
That was important.
He did not know about the hidden phone.
Patricia said, "Maybe Hannah guessed."
Michael snapped, "Nobody guesses Dr. Kline."
Claire almost reacted.
Patricia shot him a furious look.
Michael realized what he had said.
Silence.
Claire tilted her head.
"Who's Dr. Kline?"
Nobody answered.
Michael walked out.
Patricia followed.
The door slammed.
This time Claire heard the lock.
But they had made another mistake.
Michael had confirmed the name himself.
The hidden phone had captured it.
That evening Hannah sent a message.
THE JUDGE WON'T ISSUE AN EXTRACTION ORDER YET.
Claire's hope dropped.
WHY?
MICHAEL'S LAWYER CLAIMS YOU DON'T WANT CONTACT.
Claire clenched her jaw.
Hannah continued.
THEY PROVIDED TEXTS FROM YOUR NUMBER.
Claire knew.
Michael.
Then Hannah sent something unexpected.
WE NEED VIDEO.
Audio was not enough.
The judge wanted clearer evidence that Claire was being held unwillingly.
Claire stared toward Michael's camera shelf.
There was a camera in the room almost every day.
But controlled by Michael.
Then she remembered the old laptop inside the attic desk.
It had not been used in weeks.
Michael believed it was broken.
Claire had noticed the charging light once.
She opened it.
The screen flickered.
Password required.
She tried Michael's birthday.
Wrong.
Their wedding date.
Wrong.
Patricia's birthday.
Wrong.
Then Claire typed 8147.
The same numbers on the hidden phone.
The laptop opened.
Claire stared.
Hannah.
Her sister had prepared more than a phone.
On the desktop was one folder.
OPEN IF YOU NEED OUT.
Claire clicked.
Inside were instructions.
A shortcut to an encrypted video call.
A cloud upload tool.
And one sentence.
MICHAEL CAN CONTROL THE HOUSE.
HE CANNOT CONTROL WHAT HAS ALREADY LEFT IT.
Claire connected the hidden phone.
She began transferring every recording.
For the first time, the evidence existed outside the attic.
Claire opened the camera application.
The laptop camera turned on.
Her own face appeared.
Pale.
Thinner.
Tube taped against her cheek.
Pregnant stomach beneath an oversized shirt.
Claire looked directly into the lens.
"My name is Claire Bennett."
Her voice shook.
She continued.
"I am recording this because my husband, Michael Bennett, and his mother, Patricia Bennett, are locking me in our attic against my will."
She turned the laptop toward the door.
The lock was visible on the outside only.
Claire showed the window.
Too high above the backyard for safe escape.
She showed the hidden phone.
Then herself again.
"They control my food, my phone, and who I speak to."
Her throat tightened.
"They are trying to take my inheritance and my baby."
She paused.
"If something happens to me, I did not consent to this."
Claire uploaded the video.
Upload complete.
Then footsteps approached.
She closed the laptop.
Barely in time.
The attic door opened.
Michael entered carrying a small black camera.
He looked unusually cheerful.
"Good news."
Claire stared.
"What?"
"Tomorrow we're making a video."
"What kind?"
Michael placed the camera on the desk.
May you like
He smiled.
"The last one."
