Chapter 4 - Before She Was Hilda
The name Helena Dane unlocked a memory I had buried under grief.
Elena's last pregnancy had been difficult.
Not dramatic at first.
Headaches. Dizziness. Strange episodes where her hands trembled and her vision blurred.
Her doctor said pregnancy could do strange things to the body.
Helena Dane became the nurse who checked on her at home.
Quiet. Efficient. Calm.
I had thanked her at Elena's funeral.
Two months later, she reapplied to work at the estate as Hilda Dawson.
New hair. New glasses. New references.
And I never recognized her.
"How?" I asked.
Mara looked at me with something close to pity.
"You weren't looking."
I wanted to argue.
I couldn't.
After Elena died, I spent sixteen hours a day running Mercer Freight and the rest trying not to fall apart in front of my daughters.
Hilda handled the house.
I had called that survival.
Maybe it was surrender.
Mara sat at the end of the conference table.
"Elena trusted me before she trusted Helena. I worked nights at Saint Catherine's."
"What happened?"
"Elena told me she felt worse after certain home visits. I told her to ask for a full medication review."
"And?"
"Three days later, hospital security found controlled medication in my locker."
"You were fired."
"Fired, charged, and blacklisted."
"Were the charges proven?"
"No. They were dropped quietly eighteen months later. By then I had lost my apartment, my license, everything."
I looked toward the room where my daughters slept.
"Why come here now?"
"Because Elena asked me to."
I stood.
"Elena has been dead two years."
Mara reached into her canvas bag and removed a small brass key tied to blue thread.
"She gave me this four days before she died."
"What does it open?"
"I don't know."
"You waited two years?"
"I tried to reach you twice. Your security removed me from the property. Hilda filed a trespass notice. After that, I watched from the road."
My stomach tightened.
"The food?"
"The first time I saw Rosalyn at that window, she was licking condensation off the glass."
I shut my eyes.
Mara's voice softened.
"I started bringing soup."
Then Calvin entered carrying an old personnel file.
His face had gone pale.
"Graham, we have a problem."
He laid down Hilda's original application.
The emergency contact listed one person.
May you like
Dr. Marcus Dawson.
The physician who signed Elena's death certificate.
