Chapter 5 - The Third Girl
“Do you know Maisie?” Paul asked.
Nora nodded. “She gave Violet a sticker when Violet cried.”
“Where is she now?”
“We weren't allowed to ask.”
The photograph had been taken at Bellwether. Elena recognized the painted yellow sun behind the girls. Grant had told her the clinic only did routine allergy checks and vitamin studies. She had believed him until she found medical invoices in their joint tax records and saw repeated payments marked as consulting fees.
Dana searched missing-child reports. No Maisie Reed appeared. A school registration database, however, listed a Maisie Reed enrolled in second grade across the county line. Her mother had withdrawn her suddenly eleven days earlier.
Paul called the school. The principal would give nothing over the phone without an official request, but she did say something unsettling: “A man came here yesterday asking the same questions.”
“Did he show identification?”
“He had a Bellwether badge.”
By evening Violet was more comfortable. The team continued monitoring her while toxicology samples were processed. Nora fell asleep leaning against Elena. For the first time since entering the station, Elena looked almost peaceful.
Elena described a clinic receptionist named June who always gave children a paper star when their appointments ended. June had once slipped her a note saying to ask for a different doctor. Grant found the note that night and burned it over the sink. Elena could still remember the way he'd watched the ash disappear before telling her she was imagining problems.
Then Paul found a sealed voicemail from Richard in his old personal email archive. It had arrived the night before Richard's crash, buried beneath spam. His brother sounded exhausted.
“Paul, if this gets to you, don't let anyone call it a clinical misunderstanding. Ask who owns the land under the new children’s wing. Follow the leases, not the prescriptions.”
A pause. A horn blared in the recording.
“And if they say I'm dead before you've seen me, don't believe the paperwork.”
The message ended with a collision sound and silence.
May you like
Paul replayed the last sentence three times. Richard's body had been identified by dental records.
But Paul had never actually seen it.
