Chapter 4 - The Suitcase

The flight home became a cage.

Every minute stretched.

Every mile felt insulting.

Henry was taken to St. Matthew’s Children’s Hospital. Dr. Patel met the ambulance there before I could even ask him to.

Rebecca was gone.

Caleb was gone.

And the suitcase in the locked room held five days of Henry’s clothes, his passport, his favorite stuffed bear, and three thousand dollars in cash.

“This was planned,” Lena said.

I stared out the window at black water far below us.

“I know.”

The police sent me photos through a secure link.

The room had been prepared like a holding cell.

Bottled water.

Granola bars.

A blanket.

A second lock installed on the closet.

And taped under the nightstand, a prepaid phone.

“Who packs a child’s passport if they’re only trying to punish him?” Lena asked.

“Someone taking him somewhere.”

My phone rang.

Dr. Patel.

I answered before the first ring finished.

“Tell me.”

“He’s awake.”

My knees weakened.

“He’s talking?”

“A little. He’s scared and drowsy, but he’s stable.”

I sat down.

“What did she give him?”

“We don’t know yet. The initial screen suggests a strong sedating medication. We’re waiting on confirmation.”

“Could it have killed him?”

Another pause.

“In the wrong dose, some medications can be dangerous. I don’t want to speculate before the lab confirms it.”

I gripped the phone harder.

“Can I speak to him?”

“He asked for you.”

There was rustling, then a weak little voice.

“Dad?”

I covered my mouth.

“I’m here, buddy.”

“Are you mad?”

“At you? Never.”

“She said you’d be mad because I didn’t drink it fast.”

“Listen to me. You did nothing wrong.”

He sniffed.

“I tried to hide the blue folder.”

“What blue folder?”

Silence.

“Henry?”

“I found it in Caleb’s office.”

My pulse jumped.

“What was in it?”

“I don’t know. Papers. Your name. My name. Mom’s name.”

My late wife’s name.

Sarah had been dead for three years.

“Where did you hide it?” I asked.

“In my tree house.”

I stood so fast my seatbelt buckle hit the floor.

“Lena, call the police.”

But Henry had not finished.

“Dad?”

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“Yes?”

“Rebecca knows where it is.”