Chapter 3: 12:16
The photograph was still in Maya's hand when the courthouse clock chimed twelve.
Once.
Twice.
By the time it reached twelve-thirteen, I had stopped hearing anything except my own breathing.
Emily was sitting beside the social worker, clutching her stuffed rabbit against her chest. Her eyes kept drifting toward the hallway where the stranger had disappeared.
I knelt in front of her.
“Emily,” I whispered, “look at me.””
She did.
“Did the man in the photograph hurt you?””
She shook her head.
“Did he talk to you?””
“No.””
“Then what did he do?””
“He watched.””
“From where?””
She pointed toward the family room window.
“Outside.””
Maya crouched beside us.
“What did he look like, sweetheart?””
Emily frowned.
“He had a hat.””
“What color?””
“Black.””
“Anything else?””
She thought carefully.
“He had Daddy's coat.””
My stomach dropped.
“Mine?””
She nodded.
“The brown one.””
I had worn that coat almost every day during winter.
The police had taken it as evidence the night they arrested me.
I turned toward Maya.
“That coat was in my house.””
Maya's expression tightened.
“And it shouldn't have been available to anyone.””
The social worker stood.
“I think we should take Emily somewhere secure.””
“No.””
The word came from Sarah.
She had just stepped through the door.
Two officers were behind her.
Her hair was disheveled, and the bruise around her wrist looked darker now.
She saw the photograph.
Her face drained of color.
“Where did you get that?””
Maya held it up.
“It was left outside.””
Sarah stared at the image.
“That's not possible.””
I stood.
“You said the same thing six months ago.””
Her eyes met mine.
“Daniel, listen to me.””
“You keep telling me to listen.””
“Because you're in danger.””
“So is Emily.””
“I know.””
“Then tell me the truth.””
Sarah looked at our daughter.
Then at the officers.
“Not here.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Where, Sarah? Another secret room?””
She flinched.
Maya stepped between us.
“You're going to tell us what happened at 12:16.””
Sarah stared at her.
“How do you know that time?””
I held up the photograph.
“Because someone wants us to know.””
Sarah swallowed.
Then she sat down.
“Three months ago,” she said quietly, “Emily woke up at exactly 12:16.””
I frowned.
“From a nightmare?””
Sarah shook her head.
“She said someone had called her name.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Sarah.””
“I really don't.””
She rubbed her wrists.
“I went into her room. She was sitting upright in bed.””
“What did she say?””
Sarah's voice broke.
“She said, ‘The man is back.’”
The social worker exchanged a glance with Maya.
I crouched beside Sarah.
“Which man?””
She looked at me.
“You.””
My stomach tightened.
“What?””
“She thought it was you.””
“I wasn't there.””
“I know.””
“What happened?””
Sarah closed her eyes.
“I turned on the light.””
“And?””
“Emily pointed toward the window.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“Was anyone there?””
“No.””
“Then why did she say someone was watching her?””
“Because there was.””
Silence.
I stared at Sarah.
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“You just said there was someone.””
“I saw the curtain move.””
A chill crawled across my arms.
“Did you check outside?””
“Yes.””
“Anyone?””
“No.””
“Footprints?””
Sarah nodded.
“There were footprints.””
“Where?””
“Under the window.””
“Whose?””
“I don't know.””
“Why didn't you tell the police?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because the police weren't the people I was afraid of.””
Maya leaned forward.
“Who were you afraid of?””
Sarah didn't answer.
Then her phone rang.
She jumped.
The screen showed an unknown number.
I watched her stare at it.
“Answer it,” I said.
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because they know I have you.””
Maya held out her hand.
“Give me the phone.””
Sarah shook her head.
The ringing stopped.
A second later, a text appeared.
Sarah read it.
Her mouth fell open.
“What?””
She handed the phone to Maya.
The message contained only four words.
*HE REMEMBERS THE BASEMENT.*
I looked at Sarah.
“What basement?””
She stared at me.
“You really don't remember?””
“No.””
“You do.””
“I don't.””
She whispered, “You were there.””
“Where?””
“The night your father died.””
My chest tightened.
“My father died twelve years ago.””
“Yes.””
“You said I was there?””
“Yes.””
“How old was I?””
Sarah looked away.
“Five.””
Something moved in the corner of my memory.
A smell.
Smoke.
Wet dirt.
A red metal door.
Someone screaming my name.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
Maya noticed.
“Daniel?””
“I remember something.””
Sarah's face went white.
“What?””
“I was underground.””
She slowly nodded.
“What else?””
“There was a man.””
“Who?””
I closed my eyes.
“He had a tattoo.””
“Which tattoo?””
“A triangle.””
Maya exchanged a glance with Sarah.
“What did he say?””
I pressed my fingertips against my forehead.
“I can't hear him.””
“Try.””
I breathed slowly.
The memory came in pieces.
A flashlight.
A woman's hand.
A little boy crying.
A door.
And a voice.
*Don't let them take the children.*
My eyes opened.
Sarah was crying.
“You remember.””
“I don't know what I remember.””
She reached toward me.
I stepped away.
“What children?””
Sarah didn't answer.
Maya did.
“Daniel, we found a record.””
She pulled a file from her bag.
“What record?””
“Your adoption file.””
I stared at her.
“My father never adopted me.””
“He did.””
She opened it.
There it was.
A legal adoption.
My father's signature.
But beneath it was another document.
A hospital transfer record.
My name didn't appear.
Neither did Daniel Carter.
Instead there was a handwritten entry.
*Male child — approximately five years old — unidentified.*
I looked at Maya.
“That's me?””
“Yes.””
“No.””
“That's what we need to establish.””
Sarah was shaking.
“I told you.””
“Told me what?””
“That your father didn't find you by accident.””
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
She hesitated.
“He was looking for you.””
“Why?””
“Because your mother asked him to.””
I felt the room disappear around me.
“My mother?””
Sarah nodded.
“Your biological mother.””
I hadn't heard that phrase in my entire life.
“My mother died when I was a baby.””
“That was the story your father gave you.””
“You're saying he lied?””
“Yes.””
I turned toward Maya.
“Find her.””
“Sarah says she may be dead.””
“May?””
Sarah whispered, “I never saw a death certificate.””
I stared at her.
“Then where is she?””
“I don't know.””
The courthouse lights flickered.
Once.
Then again.
The officers looked upward.
A low mechanical hum came from the hallway.
Maya stood.
“Everybody stay here.””
A security alarm suddenly screamed.
Emily covered her ears.
“Daddy!””
I grabbed her.
“It's okay.””
The lights went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Someone shouted from the corridor.
Then came the sound of running feet.
A door slammed.
Another.
Maya pulled her flashlight from her bag.
The beam cut through the darkness.
Sarah was gone.
I stared at the empty chair.
“Where is she?””
The social worker pointed toward the emergency exit.
“She was right there.””
We ran.
The exit door was swinging open.
Cold air rushed through the hallway.
Beyond it, the courthouse parking lot was empty.
No Sarah.
No stranger.
Nothing.
Then Emily screamed.
“Daddy!””
She was pointing at the ground.
Her stuffed rabbit had fallen near the door.
I picked it up.
The little ear had been stitched back on.
It hadn't been broken when she'd entered the courtroom.
I turned it over.
There was something sewn into the fabric.
A tiny plastic key.
Attached to it was a paper tag.
Three numbers.
*1216.*
Maya stared.
“What does that mean?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
Emily reached for the rabbit.
“It's from Mommy.””
I looked at her.
“She gave it to you?””
Emily nodded.
“Before she left.””
“What did she say?””
Emily's lower lip trembled.
“She said Daddy would understand.””
Maya carefully removed the key from the rabbit.
There was another message on the tag.
Four words.
*ROOM 1216. COUNTY HOSPITAL.*
My blood ran cold.
“County Hospital?”” I asked.
Maya nodded.
“There's no Room 1216.””
I looked at the key.
“Then why did Sarah send us there?””
Before Maya could answer, her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
She answered.
No one spoke.
Then a man's voice whispered:
“Don't go to the hospital.””
Maya froze.
“Who is this?””
The voice ignored her.
It spoke directly to me.
“Daniel.””
I stepped closer.
“Who are you?””
A pause.
Then:
“You've been searching for your mother.””
My heart hammered.
“How do you know?””
The man breathed softly into the phone.
“Because she has been searching for you.””
The call ended.
Maya slowly lowered the phone.
I stared at her.
“Did you recognize the voice?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
Emily tugged my sleeve.
“Daddy?””
“What?””
She looked toward the dark courthouse corridor.
“The man with your coat.””
I turned.
At the far end of the hall, just for a second, I saw him.
Black hat.
Brown coat.
Motionless.
Watching us.
Then he stepped backward through a doorway.
I ran after him.
The door slammed shut.
I grabbed the handle.
Locked.
There was no other exit.
Maya caught up.
“Daniel.””
I looked through the narrow glass.
The room beyond was empty.
Except for a hospital gurney.
And on it lay a woman.
Older.
Pale.
Connected to machines.
I couldn't see her face clearly.
Then the lights inside flickered on.
I saw her.
My knees nearly gave out.
I knew that face.
Not from a photograph.
Not from a memory.
From somewhere deeper.
Somewhere I had spent twelve years forgetting.
Maya whispered behind me.
“Who is she?””
I couldn't answer.
Because the woman behind the glass slowly opened her eyes.
And with one trembling hand, she lifted a piece of paper against the window.
May you like
There were only three words written on it.
*I am your mother.*
