Chapter 5 - The Blue Folder
A heartbeat returned in three sharp bursts, then steadied. Claire began crying so hard she couldn't make a sound.
Dr. Singh kept one hand on her shoulder. “She's still with us. But I don't want another scare like that. We're keeping you under continuous monitoring.”
Ethan reached for Claire. She turned away.
“Not yet,” she said.
He stood there with his hand hanging in the air.
Hours later, while Claire slept, Maya went back to the mansion with Detective Ortiz. Police had not made an arrest. Sloane had called in two lawyers and a publicist, who were already describing the fall as a tragic wheelchair accident.
The house was glowing with leftover party lights. Half-filled champagne flutes stood on tables beside flowers no one would enjoy.
“Show me where you were,” Ortiz said.
Maya walked from the kitchen to the pool and pointed. “I was carrying a tray. Sloane was behind Claire. The chair rolled fast. Too fast.”
“Could Claire have released the brakes?”
“She had a cast. And Sloane was holding the handles.”
Ortiz photographed the terrace. The wheelchair had been recovered and placed in the garage. Its frame was scratched, one armrest bent backward.
Inside, Maya went to the nursery. A blue folder had been hidden beneath the changing-table pad earlier that morning. Claire had shown it to her for one nervous second, saying, “If anything happens, give this to Ethan. Promise me.”
Maya lifted the pad.
Nothing.
She searched the drawers, the diaper basket, the pockets of Claire's overnight bag. A soft musical mobile turned above the empty crib, playing a tune that suddenly sounded cruel.
Ortiz appeared in the doorway. “Find it?”
“No.”
Maya's phone vibrated. A message from a number she didn't recognize showed a picture of her ten-year-old son, Nico, leaving school the previous afternoon.
May you like
Under the picture were seven words:
YOU HAVE A SON. REMEMBER THAT, MAYA.
