Chapter 3 - The Night Ethan Was Born
Daniel erased the message before Sarah could stop him.
“Who was she?” Sarah demanded.
“A lunatic.”
“She knew about the test.”
“She heard gossip at the hospital.”
“She mentioned the night Ethan was born.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“Do you really want to discuss that night?”
The question silenced her.
Ethan’s birth had been the happiest and most painful event of Sarah’s life.
She had gone into labor six weeks early during a thunderstorm. The nearest hospital had lost power after a transformer explosion, forcing emergency patients to be transferred.
Sarah remembered bright lights inside an ambulance.
She remembered Daniel arguing with a paramedic.
She remembered waking in a private clinic outside the city with Daniel beside her.
A nurse had placed Ethan in her arms.
He had been tiny, silent, and wrapped in a pale blue blanket.
Sarah had asked why she could not remember the delivery.
Daniel said there had been complications.
She had lost blood.
The doctors had sedated her.
For years, that explanation had been enough.
Now it felt like a locked door.
“I want the records from that clinic,” Sarah said.
“The clinic closed.”
“There must be copies.”
“There aren’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I tried to get them years ago.”
“Why?”
Daniel’s eyes shifted.
“For insurance.”
Sarah stared at him.
“Which clinic was it?”
“You know which clinic.”
“No, Daniel. I know the name you told me, but I don’t remember seeing a sign. I don’t remember meeting the doctor again. I don’t even have a photograph from the delivery room.”
“Most mothers are grateful their babies survive.”
The cruelty of the statement stunned her.
Daniel saw it.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Sarah.”
“I nearly died, and somehow you are angry that I want to understand what happened.”
Daniel took a step toward her.
She stepped back.
For the first time, he noticed that she was afraid.
His posture changed instantly. His shoulders lowered. His voice became warm.
This was the Daniel everyone else knew.
“I’m not angry,” he said. “I’m terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing Ethan.”
He sat at the dining table and covered his face.
Sarah watched him carefully.
Daniel began to cry.
She had seen him produce tears before, usually after arguments in which he had frightened her. Yet this seemed different. His hands shook.
“I have spent fourteen years trying to keep him safe,” he said. “Now one careless doctor is filling your head with theories.”
“What theories?”
He looked up too quickly.
Sarah noticed.
“I didn’t mention a theory.”
Daniel wiped his eyes.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.”
He stood.
The conversation was over.
The next morning, Sarah visited the attic.
She had stored Ethan’s baby belongings in plastic containers: clothes, photographs, hospital bracelets, and cards from relatives.
She found the blue blanket first.
A faded label remained stitched inside one corner.
Harrow Glen Medical Center.
Sarah searched the name online.
No hospital had ever existed under that name.
Her pulse quickened.
She opened the box containing official records.
Ethan’s birth certificate was there.
So was a hospital discharge summary.
The clinic name on the discharge summary was different.
Halcyon Women’s Pavilion.
Sarah called the state health department.
The clerk searched the database.
“Halcyon Women’s Pavilion operated for eleven months,” the woman said. “It closed following an investigation.”
“What kind of investigation?”
“I don’t have access to sealed records.”
“Why were they sealed?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can you tell me who owned it?”
Keys clicked in the background.
The clerk paused.
“It was registered to Halcyon Private Trust.”
Sarah felt cold.
The same circle-and-line symbol from Daniel’s mysterious envelope appeared at the bottom of Ethan’s discharge summary.
Before she could examine it closely, the attic door slammed shut.
Sarah ran to it.
The handle would not turn.
May you like
Someone had locked her inside.
She heard footsteps descending the stairs.
