Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LOCKED DOOR
I was discharged two days later with strict instructions to rest.
Vincent arranged for a private nurse to check on me, but he did not send
guards into my apartment without asking. He had Daniel bring groceries,
a comfortable chair, and a stack of books from the mansion library.
I was grateful, but I could tell something had changed. Vincent’s calls
were shorter. His voice was distracted. Whenever I asked about the
suitcase, he said only that he had found a lead.
On the third evening, he finally told me.
“I found my son.”
I sat very still.
“Gabriel?”
He nodded. “He’s four. He’s been living with a retired nurse named
Margaret Bell. She protected him after someone falsified his birth
records.”
“Does he know who you are?”
“Not yet. I met him. I didn’t want to frighten him.”
I smiled. “What is he like?”
Vincent’s expression softened. “He has my eyes. He likes airplanes. He
thinks every broken thing can be fixed if you find the right person.”
“That’s a good way to think.”
“He gave me a broken wooden plane. I promised to repair it.”
For the first time in days, Vincent looked almost peaceful.
Then he showed me the address Margaret had given him.
It was a private rehabilitation residence in Wisconsin. Elena had been
registered there under the name Elena Miller. The facility had closed,
but a nearby medical center had inherited its records.
Daniel had already sent a team to verify the address. They found an old
patient photograph. It was Elena.
“She was alive when this was taken,” Vincent said. “Two years after she
disappeared.”
“Why was she there?”
“The records say she was admitted after a serious head injury. She was
listed as having no family.”
I studied the photograph. Elena looked thinner than in the picture
Vincent had shown me, but it was unmistakably her.
“Can you find her?”
“I’m trying.”
He told me that the residence had been funded by a company connected to
Vanessa’s family. A transfer payment had been made every month for
nearly three years. The account was closed only six months ago.
“Vanessa knew,” I whispered.
“I think she knew more than she admitted.”
The following morning, Daniel called with an update. The medical center
had located a former nurse who remembered Elena. She had been moved to a
small care facility after a fall, then discharged under a relative’s
name.
The relative listed on the paperwork was Vanessa Sterling.
Vincent went silent.
He called the facility himself. The director confirmed that a woman
matching Elena’s description had been transferred to a private residence
outside Madison. The address was current.
“I’ll go tonight,” he said.
“Take Daniel.”
“I will.”
“And Vincent?”
He turned toward me.
“Don’t go in there expecting the woman you remember. Four years is a
long time.”
His eyes lowered.
“I know.”
I reached for his hand. “If she’s alive, let her tell you what happened
in her own time.”
He squeezed my fingers.
“You’ve been kinder to me than I deserve.”
“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because someone took a mother
away from her child.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he left.
That night, I received a message from an unknown number.
You should have kept your hands off the suitcase.
A second message followed.
The baby you are carrying is not the only child in danger.
I called Daniel immediately. He sent a guard to my building and told me
not to open the door to anyone.
Then the phone rang again.
This time, the caller did not speak.
I heard only a woman’s breathing.
May you like
And then a whisper.
“Clara? My name is Elena. Please don’t trust Vanessa.”
