Chapter 5 - The Night Mara Disappeared
The baby cried again.
Mara gripped the hospital bed.
“Where is she?”
The emergency lights flickered on, bathing the room in a dim red glow.
Dominic turned toward the hallway.
The crying had stopped.
He moved first.
“Mara, stay here.”
She pushed herself upright.
“No.”
“You're recovering from surgery.”
“I don't care.”
“You almost died.”
“And someone just made a baby cry inside a locked hospital.”
Dominic stared at her.
She was pale, exhausted, and still shaking.
But her eyes were clear.
Determined.
He understood that look.
She wasn't going to stay behind.
Dominic helped her stand.
Her legs trembled.
He caught her before she fell.
“Easy.”
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
He slipped an arm around her waist.
Together, they stepped into the corridor.
The lights remained dim.
Hospital staff were moving quickly.
A security alarm flashed above the nurses' station.
But no one seemed to know where the crying had come from.
Dominic looked down both ends of the corridor.
Nothing.
Then Mara stopped.
“Listen.”
A faint sound came from behind them.
A soft electronic beep.
Dominic turned.
The sound came from the room where Mara had been recovering.
They hurried back.
On the bedside table, the memory card the nurse had given Dominic was gone.
In its place sat a small hospital bracelet.
Mara picked it up.
Her fingers began trembling.
Her name was printed across it.
MARA VASCARI.
Beneath it was a date.
The same date as her daughter's birth.
And beneath that:
ROOM 17.
Dominic stared.
“What is Room 17?”
Mara looked at him.
“I don't know.”
A nurse rushed into the room.
“You can't be out of bed.”
Dominic turned.
“Where did this come from?”
The nurse looked at the bracelet.
Her expression changed.
“I've never seen that before.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I am not.”
Dominic held it up.
“Then tell me what Room 17 means.”
The nurse swallowed.
“St. Vincent's used to have a neonatal wing called the east annex.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“Why was it closed?”
The nurse looked toward the hallway.
“There was a fire.”
Mara's face tightened.
“How many people died?”
“Three.”
“Babies?”
The nurse hesitated.
“Two nurses.”
Mara looked at Dominic.
“And the third?”
The nurse said nothing.
Dominic's voice dropped.
“The third was a baby.”
The nurse nodded.
“According to the report.”
Mara stared at the bracelet.
“Which room?”
The nurse looked at the number.
“Room 17.”
The silence was immediate.
Dominic reached for his phone.
“Get me the old hospital records.”
The nurse looked alarmed.
“They're archived.”
“Then unarchive them.”
“I don't have access.”
“Find someone who does.”
The nurse hurried away.
Mara sank into the chair.
Dominic crouched in front of her.
“You're shaking.”
“I'm scared.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You don't.”
Dominic didn't argue.
Mara held the bracelet tighter.
“When I left you, I thought I was protecting our daughter.”
“You were.”
“I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“I thought the person watching me wanted you.”
Dominic frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Mara looked toward the dark hallway.
“I think they wanted her.”
Their daughter.
The words remained unspoken.
Dominic sat beside her.
“Tell me everything.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Eight months earlier.
She had been sitting in the same hospital where she had gone for a routine prenatal appointment.
Dr. Adrian Cole had smiled at her.
“Everything looks normal.”
Mara had rested a hand on her belly.
“Can you tell if it's a girl?”
He had nodded.
“Almost certainly.”
She had smiled.
A daughter.
She remembered leaving the examination room.
Then she had seen the man.
Standing at the end of the corridor.
Black coat.
Dark hat.
Watching her.
She had looked away.
When she looked again, he was gone.
That evening, the first note appeared.
She had found it inside her apartment.
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
The second appeared three days later.
HE CAN'T PROTECT YOU.
The third was the one she had never forgotten.
IF HE KNOWS ABOUT THE BABY, SHE DIES.
Mara opened her eyes.
“I believed them.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I knew what you'd do.”
“I would protect you.”
“You would hunt them.”
“Yes.”
“And then they'd come after the baby.”
Dominic looked down.
“I would have found another way.”
“I didn't know that.”
He reached for her hand.
She almost pulled away.
Then didn't.
“I should have trusted you.”
Dominic's thumb moved gently across her fingers.
“I should have given you a reason to.”
Mara looked at him.
Neither spoke.
Then footsteps approached.
The nurse returned carrying a thick folder.
“I found this.”
Dominic stood.
“What is it?”
“Records from the east annex.”
He opened it.
The first page showed the hospital's old seal.
A fire report.
Date.
Location.
Room 17.
Dominic flipped through the pages.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Mara came closer.
He pointed.
There were three newborns listed that night.
Not two.
Three.
Their names had been blacked out.
But beside each entry was a number.
Mara stared.
“Three babies.”
The nurse nodded.
“That's what the records say.”
Dominic turned the page.
There was a handwritten note.
One infant transferred before the fire.
Mara's breath caught.
“Transferred where?”
The next page was missing.
Dominic flipped again.
Nothing.
He looked at the nurse.
“Who removed it?”
“I don't know.”
“Who had access?”
“Hospital administration.”
“Names.”
She hesitated.
“Dr. Adrian Cole.”
Dominic's eyes hardened.
Mara whispered,
“My doctor.”
“Yes.”
Dominic closed the folder.
“We're going to find him.”
The nurse looked frightened.
“You may not want to.”
Dominic turned.
“Why?”
“He disappeared.”
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
Mara's stomach dropped.
“Exactly when I left.”
The nurse nodded.
Dominic's phone vibrated.
He answered.
“Speak.”
His security chief sounded breathless.
“We've reached the old estate.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“Is Celeste there?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
“We found the SUV.”
“And?”
“The driver's door was open.”
“Celeste?”
“Not inside.”
“Search the house.”
“We did.”
“And?”
“We found blood.”
Dominic's eyes hardened.
“How much?”
“Enough to suggest someone was injured.”
Mara grabbed his arm.
“Is it hers?”
“We don't know.”
Dominic looked at Mara.
“Send me pictures.”
A moment later, his phone received several images.
He opened the first.
The old Vascari mansion.
Second.
The front gate.
Third.
A dark smear across the marble floor.
Fourth.
A woman's cream handbag lying beside the staircase.
Mara's face went pale.
“That's hers.”
Dominic zoomed in.
The bag was open.
Papers were scattered around it.
One photograph lay on top.
He enlarged it.
His blood ran cold.
It was a photograph of Mara.
Pregnant.
Taken months before the crash.
She had been walking outside her apartment.
Someone had been watching her.
The next photograph showed Dominic.
Then Celeste.
Then Dr. Cole.
Mara stared.
“They were all being watched.”
Dominic's security chief called again.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found a room downstairs.”
“Describe it.”
“It's locked.”
“Break it.”
“We already did.”
Dominic waited.
The man's voice became quieter.
“There are photographs covering the walls.”
“Of who?”
“Mara.”
Dominic's grip tightened around the phone.
“How many?”
“Dozens.”
Mara's eyes filled with tears.
Then the security chief said,
“Boss, there's something else.”
“What?”
“There is a crib in the middle of the room.”
Mara's face went white.
Dominic stared at her.
“Is it empty?”
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“What is inside?”
The security chief hesitated.
“A blanket.”
Dominic waited.
“Open it.”
“We did.”
“And?”
“There was a note underneath.”
“What does it say?”
The security chief took a breath.
“It says, ‘She was never supposed to survive.’”
Mara covered her mouth.
Dominic closed his eyes for one second.
Then opened them.
“Send me the note.”
His phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared.
White paper.
Black ink.
Six words.
THE MOTHER WAS THE WRONG TARGET.
Mara stared at the screen.
“Dominic…”
He looked at her.
“They weren't trying to kill me.”
“No.”
“They were trying to scare me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dominic had no answer.
Then the nurse suddenly gasped.
Mara turned.
The nurse was staring at the hospital bracelet.
“There is something I didn't tell you.”
Dominic's voice became cold.
“What?”
The nurse's hands shook.
“When I saw that bracelet, I remembered something.”
“What?”
“The night of the fire.”
She looked at Mara.
“One of the babies was taken from Room 17.”
Mara's heart pounded.
“By who?”
“A woman.”
“What woman?”
“I never saw her face.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“What did she look like?”
The nurse closed her eyes.
“She wore a red dress.”
Mara and Dominic looked at each other.
Celeste.
The nurse continued.
“She carried the baby through the east corridor.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“Did you see where she went?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it was a woman?”
“Because she spoke to me.”
“What did she say?”
The nurse looked terrified.
“She said the baby belonged to the Vascari family.”
Mara's breathing stopped.
Dominic whispered,
“When?”
The nurse opened her eyes.
“Twenty-nine years ago.”
Dominic froze.
Mara slowly looked at the old photograph in his hand.
The three numbered babies.
Her fingers tightened around the hospital bracelet.
Then the nurse noticed something engraved beneath Mara's name.
She leaned closer.
Her face suddenly drained of color.
“That's impossible.”
Dominic turned.
“What?”
The nurse pointed to the tiny inscription.
It wasn't a room number.
It wasn't a patient number.
It was a birth designation.
019.
Mara stared at it.
Dominic stared at her.
Then the nurse whispered,
“Your daughter wasn't the only Vascari baby born tonight.”
The hospital doors suddenly slammed shut.
May you like
Every lock in the corridor clicked at once.
And from the newborn ward came a man's voice calling Mara by the name she had used before she ever met Dominic…
