Chapter 9 - Locker 214
Simone shoved Leah beneath a styling counter as a brick crashed across the floor.
Two men rushed in.
Carla sprayed one in the face with industrial hair remover. He screamed.
Ruth swung a fire extinguisher into the other man’s ribs.
“Back exit!”
They escaped through an alley and split up.
Leah and Simone reached Union Station twenty minutes later with Noah hidden under a gray nursing cover.
Locker 214 was on the lower concourse.
Inside sat a red plastic box.
Simone opened it.
Patient files. Copies of custody petitions. Internal emails. Photographs.
And a flash drive labeled M.R.
“Mae Rowland,” Leah said.
They found a quiet corner and plugged it into Simone’s laptop.
The first video showed Mae’s sister crying in a hospital room while a doctor injected something into her IV.
The second showed a social worker carrying her baby away.
The third showed Doreen entering a records office after midnight.
Leah covered her mouth.
Simone clicked another file.
A spreadsheet appeared.
Nine mothers.
Nine infants.
Payment columns.
Some money came from wealthy couples. Some went to Briar Glen consultants. Some went to the Carver Foundation.
“This isn’t just about Noah,” Leah whispered.
“No,” Simone said. “It’s trafficking dressed in legal paperwork.”
A message popped onto Leah’s phone from an unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
Mae sat tied to a chair, blood at the corner of her mouth.
Below it:
BRING THE BABY TO THE OLD CARVER HOUSE. COME ALONE.
Simone grabbed Leah’s wrist. “No.”
Another message arrived.
THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.
Then a short video.
Marcus Vale stepped into frame beside Mae.
He smiled.
“I don’t care about your family drama, Mrs. Carver. I care about four million dollars. Your son is collateral.”
Leah’s vision narrowed.
At the end of the clip, Mae lifted her eyes toward the camera.
She moved her lips without sound.
Simone replayed it.
Once.
Twice.
Then she understood.
May you like
Mae was saying two words.
Not there.
