Chapter 3: The Name on the Screen
“Claire, he knows, doesn't he?””
The voice coming through the phone was low and familiar.
Not familiar because I knew the man.
Familiar because I had heard that voice before.
I just couldn't place it.
Claire's face drained of color.
She looked at me.
Then at the phone.
Then back at me.
“Who is this?”” I asked.
The voice on the line went silent.
Claire pressed the phone against her chest.
“It's nobody.””
I stared at her.
“Someone just called you from a phone showing my name.””
She didn't answer.
I held out my hand.
“Give me the phone.””
“Marcus, this isn't the time.””
“Give me the phone.””
Her fingers tightened around it.
From behind the imaging doors, a machine emitted a long electronic beep.
The sound pulled my eyes away for half a second.
When I looked back, Claire had ended the call.
“Who was that?””
She shook her head.
“I need to talk to you somewhere private.””
“No.””
Her eyes widened.
“No?””
“Not until you tell me who that was.””
She glanced toward the nurses' station.
“Please.””
I lowered my voice.
“You brought our daughter to three doctors without telling me. You told her she'd be taken away if she spoke to me. You told her her body was reacting to something she was hiding. Now some man calls you and asks whether I know.””
I stepped closer.
“And you want me to wait?””
Claire looked at the floor.
“I was trying to keep her safe.””
“From him?””
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.””
The answer came so softly I almost missed it.
“Who is he?””
Claire opened her mouth.
Then someone called my name.
“Mr. Carter?””
I turned.
Dr. Harris was walking toward me.
He had a folder tucked beneath one arm.
His face looked different now.
More serious.
“We've gotten the first imaging results.””
I moved toward him.
“How is Maya?””
“She’s stable.””
The word should have relieved me.
It didn't.
“What did you find?””
He glanced at Claire.
Then at me.
“There appears to be inflammation and some unusual findings that need further evaluation.””
“Is she in danger?””
“We don't know yet.””
I nodded, forcing myself to remain standing.
“What happens now?””
“We're keeping her overnight. I want additional blood work, another scan, and a pediatric specialist to examine her.””
“Okay.””
Dr. Harris looked down at his folder.
“There’s one more thing.””
My stomach tightened.
“What?””
“The previous medical notes raised a concern that I think you should know about.””
Claire immediately spoke.
“Doctor—”
He held up a hand.
“I'm sorry, Claire. Given what we've heard tonight, I need to be very clear.””
He looked directly at me.
“One of the prior notes says Maya specifically stated that she did not want to go home.””
The hallway disappeared around me.
“She said that?””
Dr. Harris nodded.
“According to the note.””
“When?””
“Last week.””
I turned slowly toward Claire.
“You told me she was at your sister's.””
Claire's eyes filled with tears.
“She was.””
“You took her to a doctor instead?””
“Yes.””
“And she told them she didn't want to go home?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Claire's mouth trembled.
“She was scared.””
“Of what?””
She didn't answer.
I looked at Dr. Harris.
“Can I see the note?””
“I can discuss its contents, but the complete record has confidentiality restrictions.””
“She is my daughter.””
“I know.””
He paused.
“There's also a notation that Maya was brought in by an adult male on one occasion.””
My head snapped toward him.
“An adult male?””
Claire looked terrified.
“Who?””
“The record doesn't identify him in the section I have.””
I stared at Claire.
She suddenly took a step backward.
“Marcus…”
“You said you took her.””
“I did.””
“Then who was the man?””
“I don't know.””
The words made no sense.
“You don't know?””
“I wasn't there that day.””
My skin went cold.
“What do you mean, you weren't there?””
Claire covered her mouth for a moment.
“Someone else took her.””
“Who?””
She looked at me.
“I can't tell you.””
I laughed once.
It wasn't because anything was funny.
“You've got to be kidding me.””
“Marcus, please.””
“No.””
My voice cracked through the hallway.
“No more secrets.””
A nurse glanced over.
I lowered my voice, but not my anger.
“Who took my daughter to the doctor?””
Claire wiped her eyes.
“My brother.””
I stared at her.
“You told me your brother moved to Arizona.””
“He did.””
“When was he here?””
Claire looked away.
“He came back.””
“When?””
“Two months ago.””
“And you never told me?””
“He didn't want to see you.””
“Why?””
She shook her head.
“You two have never gotten along.””
“That doesn't explain why he was taking Maya to medical appointments.””
Claire's lips parted.
“He was helping me.””
“With what?””
She went silent.
I stepped toward her.
“With what, Claire?””
She whispered, “With the investigation.””
My heart stopped.
“What investigation?””
She looked toward the waiting area.
“Not here.””
I stared at her.
“You keep saying that.””
“Because I don't know who is listening.””
I looked around.
A receptionist was typing.
Two nurses were moving charts.
A man in scrubs pushed a cart down the corridor.
Nothing looked unusual.
But suddenly, every person in that hospital felt like a stranger.
“What are you talking about?””
Claire's voice dropped.
“Someone has been watching Maya.””
The anger inside me shifted into something colder.
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“How long?””
“Months.””
“And you didn't tell me?””
“I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“That whoever was doing it would realize you knew.””
I stared at her.
“Why would they care about me?””
Claire looked at me as if she was deciding whether she could trust the answer she was about to give.
“Because they think you're involved.””
My pulse hammered.
“Involved in what?””
She swallowed.
“The thing Maya saw.””
I felt my shoulders tense.
“What did she see?””
Claire stared past me.
“When she was six, she saw something she wasn't supposed to see.””
I frowned.
“Six?””
She nodded.
“She doesn't remember all of it.””
“Then why is this happening now?””
“Because someone thinks she remembers.””
I could hear my own breathing.
“What did she see?””
Claire looked directly at me.
“Your father.””
I froze.
“My dad?””
She nodded.
“You told me he died before Maya was born.””
“He did.””
“Then what does he have to do with this?””
Claire reached into her handbag.
Her hands were shaking.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I found this in Maya's room three weeks ago.””
She gave it to me.
I unfolded it.
At first I didn't understand what I was looking at.
It was a photocopy.
An old newspaper clipping.
The photograph was faded.
But there was no mistaking the man standing beside a black SUV.
My father.
Arthur Carter.
The headline above the photograph read:
*LOCAL CONTRACTOR QUESTIONED IN DISAPPEARANCE INVESTIGATION*
I looked at Claire.
“What is this?””
“I found the original years ago.””
“You knew about this?””
“Yes.””
“You told me my father was never involved in anything like this.””
“I didn't know everything.””
“What's the disappearance?””
Her eyes filled again.
“A little girl.””
The paper trembled in my hand.
“How old?””
“Six.””
I looked back at the photograph.
The date was printed beneath it.
Seventeen years earlier.
The same year Claire and I had started dating.
The same year my father had suddenly stopped speaking to me.
The same year he had sold his house and disappeared for several months.
I felt sick.
“Why would Maya have a copy of this?””
Claire shook her head.
“I don't know.””
I flipped the paper over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Black ink.
Four words.
*ASK YOUR FATHER'S FRIEND.*
My heart began pounding.
“My father has been dead for thirteen years.””
Claire nodded.
“I know.””
“Then who wrote this?””
“I don't know.””
I turned the paper toward her.
“Where did you get it?””
“Under her mattress.””
I looked toward the imaging doors.
Our daughter had been lying in a hospital bed, suffering pain she had hidden for months.
And someone had left a message in her room.
A message about my dead father.
A message about a missing child.
A message telling someone to ask for a man I had not heard from since I was seventeen.
Then my phone vibrated.
I pulled it from my pocket.
Unknown number.
One text message.
*STOP ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT MAYA.*
A second message appeared before I could breathe.
*YOU'VE ALREADY LOST ONE CHILD. DON'T LOSE ANOTHER.*
I stared at the screen.
My hands went numb.
Claire saw my face.
“What is it?””
I didn't answer.
Because I wasn't looking at her anymore.
I was looking through the glass at Maya.
And for the first time since I found her crying at the kitchen table, I understood one terrifying thing.
May you like
Someone hadn't just been hiding the truth from me.
Someone had been waiting for me to find it.
