Chapter 4 - The Clock is Ticking
The line went dead.
"Clara! Clara!" I screamed into the phone, but there was only static.
I looked at Dr. Aris. "Claire. She isn't in custody. They took a decoy."
"How is that possible?" Dr. Aris asked, bewildered. "I saw them cuff her."
"No," I realized, the horrific genius of Margaret’s plan unfolding. "Claire has a twin cousin—Vanessa. They look identical from a distance. Margaret must have had Vanessa waiting at the hospital entrance to swap places with Claire in the confusion. Claire was never arrested. She was sent to clean up the loose ends."
I ripped the IV line out of my arm, wincing as a bead of blood welled up.
"Evelyn, no!" Dr. Aris tried to stop me, but I pushed him away with a strength I didn't know I possessed.
"Noah," I said, grabbing my son’s hands. "I need you to stay here with Dr. Aris. He is going to keep you safe. Do you understand?"
"But Mom, I want to go with you!" Noah cried.
"No, sweetie. I need to get your brother. I promise I’ll be back." I looked at Dr. Aris. "Call the police. Tell them Clara’s address if you can find it in her employee file. But I’m not waiting for them."
"I’ll get the address," Dr. Aris said, already running to his computer. "It’s 412 Oak Street, Apartment 3B. It’s only ten minutes from here. Evelyn, wait for the police!"
But I was already running down the hallway, clad only in my hospital gown and a pair of grip socks.
The cold night air hit me like a slap in the face as I burst through the emergency room doors. I didn't have my car keys, but Daniel’s car was parked in the VIP lot near the front—and I knew he kept a spare key fob hidden in the glove box.
I ran to his sleek black SUV, smashed the driver's side window with a heavy concrete planter from the entryway, and climbed inside. Sirens were blaring in the distance, but they were too far away. I found the spare key, started the engine, and slammed my foot on the gas.
The drive to Oak Street was a blur of red lights and near-misses. My abdomen was burning, a warm wetness spreading across my gown—my stitches were tearing. But I didn't care. Adrenaline was a powerful anesthetic.
I pulled up to the run-down apartment building on Oak Street. The streetlights were flickering, casting long, eerie shadows across the gravel parking lot.
I bolted up the stairs to the third floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Apartment 3B.
The door was slightly ajar.
I pushed it open slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The apartment was dark, the only light coming from a flickering television screen in the corner. The smell of copper and cheap perfume filled the air.
"Clara?" I whispered.
I stepped into the living room and gasped. Clara was slumped against the sofa, her nurse's uniform stained with dark, wet blood. She was breathing, but her eyes were glassy and unfocused.
"Evelyn..." she whispered, pointing a trembling, bloody finger toward the back bedroom. "She... she has him. She’s going to..."
Before she could finish, a shadow fell over the doorway of the bedroom.
Claire stepped out. In her gloved hand, she held a sleek, silver revolver. And in her other arm, wrapped in a coarse, dirty blanket, was my baby.
May you like
My beautiful, breathing, dark-haired baby boy.
"Well, well," Claire sneered, a sadistic smile stretching across her face. "Look who crawled out of her hospital bed. I have to hand it to you, Evelyn. You’re tougher than you look."
