Chapter 3 - The Girl Who Remembered
Detective Lena Park came to the hospital before sunrise. She was in her forties, with a soft voice and eyes that missed nothing.
“I want the story without guesses,” she told me.
I gave her the stick, the blood, the phone calls, and the note. I also told her how Elena had been studying the family's old business records for months. My parents had once operated Alder House, a small residential home. After the fire, Alma sold the land, paid the debts, and told everyone to stop asking questions.
“You never thought it was strange your father wrote your wife into a warning?” Park asked.
“I'd never seen the warning.”
“Then somebody made sure you didn't.”
At six, a doctor finally said the baby had a heartbeat. I leaned against a wall and cried with both hands over my face. He warned me that Elena still needed observation and that her pregnancy could remain at risk. I understood every word and hated all of them.
An hour later, Elena opened her eyes.
“Where am I?”
“Mercy Hospital. You're safe.”
She touched the bandage on her forehead, then recoiled. “She was in the room.”
“I know.”
“Did she get it?”
“The envelope? No.”
Elena gripped my wrist so tightly her nails dug in. “Not the envelope. The folder behind the dresser.”
“I found your father’s envelope inside that old dresser last week,” she added. “I was going to show you after I checked the records.”
I stared at her. “What folder?”
“Yellow. My copies. She said I wasn't allowed to give them to the county.” Her voice cracked. “I told her I was going to tell you everything. She took my phone and tried to make me drink something. I knocked it out of her hand.”
“Then what?”
“She hit the side of my head with the stick. I remember the bed. I remember thinking about the baby.”
I had to look away before my anger frightened her.
“Why didn't you tell me sooner?”
“Because the last time I told you your mother was changing numbers in the books, you said I was imagining things.”
There was no defense against that. I had said it. I had watched her face close afterward and convinced myself we'd settled a small marital disagreement.
Park returned with a notebook. Elena repeated her account, stopping whenever the pain sharpened. Park never rushed her.
When the detective stepped out, Elena whispered, “Noah, one more thing. I hid the folder because somebody's been watching our house.”
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“Who?”
She swallowed. “The man who came into the bedroom before you got home was wearing a county employee badge.”
