Chapter 2 - THE HUSBAND'S MASTERCLASS IN DECEPTIONMy phone, lying facedown on the metal tray, buzzed violently.
It vibrated once, twice, three times in rapid succession. I didn't need to pick it up to know who it was. Robert had finally noticed I wasn't home, and the polite inquiry of Where are you? had devolved into full-scale panic.
Director Vance glanced down at the buzzing screen, saw Robert’s name flash across the illuminated display, and let out a dry, knowing chuckle.
"Ah. Robert is calling," Vance murmured, sliding his hands into his tailored trouser pockets. "Good. Put him on speaker, Mrs. Thorne. Let’s see if your husband wants to explain to you why a prototype biomedical nano-transponder is currently nestled against your teenage daughter's vital organs."
"A what?" Maya cried out, tears finally breaking free and spilling down her pale cheeks. "Mom, what are they talking about? Am I a robot? Why is there something inside me?"
"You are not a robot, baby," I whispered fiercely, my maternal terror morphing into a cold, lethal rage. I grabbed my phone, flipped it over, and hit speakerphone before accepting the call.
Robert’s voice blasted through the small speaker, frantic, shrill, and stripped of all its usual calm authority.
"Cynthia! Where the hell are you?!" Robert yelled, his breathing ragged. "I came home and the house is empty! The school called—they said you signed Maya out hours ago! Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you've just caused?"
"Trouble, Robert?" I asked, my voice dangerously steady. "My daughter is in a hospital room with a foreign object lodged in her abdomen. Dr. Lawson says it's a medical capsule. Director Vance here says it belongs to your employer."
A dead, suffocating silence fell over the line.
In the background, through the phone speaker, I could hear the faint, frantic sound of drawers slamming shut and papers rustling wildly. Robert was tearing our house apart.
"Put... put the phone down, Cynthia," Robert stammered, his voice cracking with genuine terror. "Listen to me very carefully. Grab Maya. Walk out of that hospital right now. Do not talk to the doctors, do not talk to Vance, and for God's sake, do not let them run any more scans. Come home. We can talk about this—"
"No, Robert," I interrupted, my voice dropping an octave. "You're going to tell me right now what you put inside our daughter's body four years ago at your hunting cabin."
Director Vance stepped forward, smoothly snatching the phone right out of my hand. He pressed it to his ear with a sickeningly polite smile.
"Hello, Robert," Vance said smoothly. "This is Vance. Riverside Health. We have a slight compliance issue here in Exam Room 4. The mother found the asset. Yes... the Phase Two bio-tracker. Well, Robert, your wife is a lot smarter than you gave her credit for. No, you handle your end. I’ll handle mine."
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Vance hung up the phone and slipped it into his own pocket.
"Now, Mrs. Thorne," Vance said, turning back to me with eyes as cold as winter stone. "You have two choices. You can walk out of this hospital right now with a check for five hundred thousand dollars, take your daughter home, and pretend you never saw this scan. Or, you can stay—and watch your husband lose everything, while your daughter becomes the central exhibit in a federal espionage trial."
