Chapter 4: The Woman Behind the Glass
I couldn't move.
The woman behind the hospital glass kept her trembling hand pressed against the window.
Three words.
*I am your mother.*
I read them again.
Then again.
My mind rejected them each time.
Twelve years of memories had been built around one unquestioned fact: my mother was dead.
My father had told me she'd died when I was an infant.
There had been no photographs.
No funeral I remembered.
No grave I had ever visited.
Just a sentence he'd repeated whenever I asked.
“She loved you, Daniel. She just didn't live long enough to see you grow up.””
Now a woman I'd never seen was staring at me with my eyes.
Same green.
Same crooked left eyebrow.
Same tiny scar at the corner of the mouth.
Maya touched my arm.
“Daniel.””
“I know.””
“Do you?””
“No.””
The woman behind the glass suddenly doubled over.
A monitor beside her bed flashed red.
Her paper fell.
A nurse rushed inside.
“Stay back,” Maya said.
I pressed my hands against the glass.
“Mom?””
The woman looked up.
Her lips moved.
I couldn't hear her.
I mouthed the word again.
“Mom?””
She nodded.
Then the nurse pulled the curtain around the bed.
I stepped back.
“No.””
Maya caught my shoulder.
“Let them work.””
“I just found her.””
“And you're not losing her because you panic.””
I stared through the glass until the curtain completely blocked my view.
Emily stood several feet behind us.
She was holding her stuffed rabbit against her chest.
“Daddy?””
I turned.
“What is it?””
“She knows you.””
I looked at her.
“How?””
Emily shrugged.
“She told me.””
My blood ran cold.
“When?””
“Before.””
“Before what?””
“Before Mommy took me to the other house.””
Maya crouched.
“Emily, what did she tell you?””
Emily looked toward the hospital room.
“She said you weren't supposed to remember.””
I felt a pressure behind my eyes.
“Remember what?””
Emily frowned.
“The blue door.””
I stared at her.
A fragment of memory flashed.
Blue paint.
Rain.
A hand around mine.
A woman's voice.
*Run, Danny. Don't look back.*
I grabbed the wall.
Maya noticed.
“You remembered something.””
I nodded.
“A door.””
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
Emily walked closer.
“She said it was underground.””
My heart pounded.
“Who did?””
“My first mommy.””
The word hit me harder than anything else.
“First mommy?””
Emily nodded.
“She said my other mommy was keeping me safe.””
Maya looked at me.
“Daniel…”
I couldn't answer.
A doctor finally stepped into the hallway.
“She needs immediate observation.””
“Is she going to live?”” I asked.
The doctor studied me.
“Are you family?””
“Yes.””
He hesitated.
“How?””
“I’m her son.””
His expression changed.
“Then we need to speak privately.””
The nurse moved Emily toward the waiting room.
“No,” I said.
“She stays with me.””
The doctor shook his head.
“Children can't be in the critical care corridor.””
Maya took Emily's hand.
“I'll stay with her.””
Emily looked up at me.
“Don't leave me.””
“I won't.””
She hugged my waist.
“I promise.””
I followed the doctor into a small consultation room.
He closed the door.
“My name is Dr. Ben Carter.””
The surname made my head snap up.
“Carter?””
He nodded.
“No relation.””
I stared at him.
“Then tell me about her.””
He sat.
“She was admitted under the name Anna Ward.””
My breath stopped.
Anna.
The same name I'd seen in my father's notes.
The same name Jason—or Noah—had mentioned.
“Why is she here?””
“She was brought in six weeks ago.””
“By who?””
“A woman named Sarah Carter.””
My hands curled into fists.
“She brought her here?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“She asked us to keep the woman's identity confidential.””
“Did she know I was her son?””
The doctor nodded.
“She said you didn't know.””
I laughed bitterly.
“So everyone knew except me.””
Dr. Carter leaned forward.
“She suffered a serious head injury years ago.””
“When?””
“We don't know.””
“Then why does she have no public record?””
“Because someone erased it.””
My stomach tightened.
“Can she speak?””
“Some.””
“Does she remember me?””
“That's complicated.””
“How?””
“She remembers a boy.””
“What boy?””
“You.””
I stared at him.
“She says she had a son.””
I leaned forward.
“Does she remember my father?””
The doctor went silent.
“Yes.””
“What does she say?””
“That he saved you.””
My pulse quickened.
“Saved me from what?””
Dr. Carter glanced toward the door.
Then lowered his voice.
“That is the question you should be asking yourself.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“She didn't become a patient because of an accident.””
“What happened?””
“She was found beside an abandoned facility.””
My body went cold.
“What facility?””
“A children's medical center.””
“Where?””
“Thirty miles north of here.””
“Is it still there?””
“No.””
“What happened to it?””
“Fire.””
I stared.
“Three years ago?””
He shook his head.
“Twelve years ago.””
The same year my father supposedly died.
The same year I was supposedly five.
I stood.
“You said she was found six weeks ago.””
“She was.””
“Then why did nobody identify her?””
“Because she didn't have fingerprints in the system.””
I stopped.
“What?””
“She had surgery on both hands years ago. Her fingerprints were intentionally damaged.””
I sat back down.
Someone had erased her identity.
Someone had wanted her to disappear.
The doctor opened a folder.
“There is one thing you should see.””
He handed me a photocopy.
A police report.
*UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE — FOUND NEAR ABANDONED WARD*
Below it was a witness statement.
*Female repeatedly said: “They will come for my daughter.””*
I looked up.
“My daughter?””
The doctor nodded.
“That is what she said.””
“I thought Emily was her granddaughter.””
He stared at me.
“I said daughter.””
The room suddenly felt airless.
I whispered, “Emily.””
The doctor didn't respond.
I stood so quickly the chair fell.
“Where is she?””
“In the waiting room.””
I ran.
Maya was standing beside Emily.
Sarah's mother, Margaret, was with them.
She looked terrified.
I stopped.
“Margaret.””
She stared at me.
“Daniel.””
“You knew.””
Her face crumpled.
“Knew what?””
“That my mother was alive.””
She said nothing.
“You knew.””
Margaret sat down.
“Yes.””
I turned toward Maya.
She stepped closer.
“Let her speak.””
Margaret looked at Emily.
“She isn't supposed to be here.””
“What does that mean?””
“She wasn't supposed to survive.””
My blood ran cold.
“Who?””
“Emily.””
Sarah's mother began crying.
“She was supposed to be taken after birth.””
“Taken where?””
“I don't know.””
“You all knew this.””
“We were scared.””
“You let me believe my wife was betraying me.””
Margaret covered her face.
“I was trying to protect Sarah.””
“And who was protecting Emily?””
She pointed at me.
“You were.””
I shook my head.
“I didn't know anything.””
“You didn't need to.””
“What does that mean?””
She looked at Emily.
“Your father built your entire life around one secret.””
“What secret?””
“He made sure you would never remember where you came from.””
I felt dizzy.
“Why?””
“Because if you remembered, they'd come for you too.””
I stared at Emily.
Then at the hospital room.
Then back at Margaret.
“Who are they?””
She didn't answer.
I moved closer.
“Who?””
Her voice trembled.
“Blackwell wasn't the beginning.””
My heart dropped.
“What do you mean?””
“They were only one part of it.””
Maya stiffened.
“Then who is behind them?””
Margaret looked toward the hospital room.
“You have to ask Anna.””
I turned.
“Why?””
“Because she was there.””
“Where?””
Margaret swallowed.
“When your father rescued you.””
The hallway went silent.
I looked at the door.
“From where?””
She whispered:
“The Blue Room.””
The phrase sent another memory through me.
A child's scream.
Metal restraints.
A blue-painted door.
A woman holding a baby.
And my father's voice.
*If they find him, run.*
I backed into the wall.
Maya grabbed my arm.
“Daniel?””
I whispered, “I remember.””
“What?””
“The room.””
“What happened?””
I looked at Emily.
“Someone took a baby.””
Margaret started crying.
“Which baby?””
I swallowed.
“I don't know.””
Then the hospital lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The nurse station phones began ringing.
Every monitor in the corridor went black.
Dr. Carter stepped out of the consultation room.
“What happened?””
No one answered.
Then the emergency lights turned red.
A security guard ran toward us.
“Lockdown!””
I grabbed Emily.
“Why?””
He looked at the hospital doors.
“Someone entered the maternity wing.””
My heart stopped.
“Maternity?””
He nodded.
“Room 1216.””
The number hit me like a punch.
The key.
The tag.
12:16.
I looked toward Anna's room.
The curtain was still drawn.
I ran.
Maya shouted after me.
“Daniel, don't!””
I tore the curtain open.
The bed was empty.
The machines were disconnected.
The window stood open.
Anna was gone.
On her pillow was a single envelope.
My name was written across it.
I picked it up with shaking hands.
Inside was a photograph.
Not of me.
Not of Emily.
Not of Anna.
It showed a little boy standing beside my father.
The boy had my face.
Behind them was a blue door.
And beneath the photograph was one handwritten sentence:
*You were not the child he came to save.*
I stared at the words.
Then another line appeared below it.
May you like
Written in fresh black ink.
*Ask him what happened to your sister.*
