Chapter 3 - The Order With My Husband’s Name
The first man through the door wore a county badge.
The second carried a clipboard.
The third wore hospital identification.
Arthur had planned everything.
I stood halfway down the staircase while Daniel blocked their path.
“You’re not taking my wife anywhere.”
The county officer frowned.
“Sir, we have an emergency transport order.”
“It’s fraudulent.”
“We can discuss that after—”
“No.”
Arthur descended calmly behind us.
“My son is emotional.”
Daniel turned so quickly I thought he might hit him.
“You forged my signature.”
Arthur’s gaze hardened.
“Careful.”
“You forged it.”
The officer looked between them.
“What exactly is being alleged?”
Daniel held up the guardianship petition.
“I never signed this.”
Arthur sighed.
“Daniel, you signed several documents yesterday.”
“Not this.”
“You were exhausted.”
“I know what I signed.”
I stepped beside Daniel.
The officer studied me.
“Mrs. Vance, are you willing to come voluntarily for evaluation?”
“No.”
“Have you taken any medication?”
“Someone injected me while I was asleep.”
The hospital worker looked up sharply.
Arthur said, “She’s confused.”
Claire came down the stairs.
“So am I confused too?”
Her voice shook, but she kept walking.
“She didn’t attack me. She didn’t drug me. I drank from the wrong glass and Dad’s private doctor sedated both of us.”
Arthur’s face tightened.
“Claire.”
“I’m done.”
The officer looked at her arm.
“Do you have evidence?”
Claire ripped off the small bandage.
A fresh injection mark showed beneath it.
“I woke up with this.”
The officer’s posture changed.
Not enough to make us safe.
But enough to make Arthur notice.
Daniel stepped closer to him.
“My father has financial motive to have my wife declared incompetent.”
“Daniel,” Arthur warned.
Daniel ignored him.
“My wife discovered irregular transfers from the Vance Foundation. I was preparing to report them.”
Arthur laughed once.
“You have no idea what you’re saying.”
“I have copies.”
That silenced him.
I looked at Daniel.
“You copied the records?”
He nodded.
“Last week.”
“Where are they?”
His eyes shifted toward Arthur.
“Not here.”
Arthur moved.
Too quickly.
He reached for Daniel’s jacket.
The officer stepped between them.
“Sir.”
Arthur stopped.
Everyone went still.
For the first time since I entered the Vance house, someone had physically blocked Arthur from doing exactly what he wanted.
He hated it.
The county officer looked at the paperwork again.
“I’m going to call the judge’s office.”
Arthur said, “Of course.”
He still sounded confident.
That worried me.
The officer stepped outside.
The hospital worker followed.
Daniel pulled me aside.
“We need to leave.”
“I agree.”
“Now.”
“What happened to your head?”
“I got run off the road.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Coming from the airport.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel.”
“A black SUV stayed behind me for ten miles. When I turned toward the house, it pulled alongside and forced me into the shoulder.”
Arthur called from behind us.
“An accident, son?”
Daniel looked at him.
“You tell me.”
Arthur’s face gave nothing away.
Margaret came slowly down the stairs.
She looked twenty years older than she had the night before.
“Daniel.”
He stared at her.
“Mom, did you know?”
She lowered her head.
“I knew about the papers.”
His face changed.
“You knew they forged my signature?”
“I thought your father was trying to protect you.”
“From Rebecca?”
Margaret cried.
“I didn’t know.”
“You always say that.”
The words hit her hard.
Daniel continued.
“You didn’t know when he fired Uncle Peter. You didn’t know when Claire disappeared from school for six months. You didn’t know when Grandma changed her will.”
Arthur snapped, “Enough.”
Daniel looked at his father.
“No. Not anymore.”
Claire came to my side.
“What does Grandma’s will have to do with this?”
No one answered.
Claire stared at Arthur.
“Dad?”
Arthur walked into the living room.
“We are not doing this in front of outsiders.”
“They’re already involved,” Daniel said.
The officer returned.
He looked uneasy.
“I spoke to Judge Patterson’s clerk.”
Arthur’s shoulders relaxed.
“She confirmed the order.”
My stomach dropped.
Daniel swore.
The officer held up a hand.
“But the clerk also confirmed Judge Patterson did not sign it.”
Silence.
The officer looked at Arthur.
“The electronic signature is invalid.”
Arthur’s expression finally broke.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
The officer continued.
“Until this is reviewed, nobody is being transported.”
I almost collapsed.
Daniel put an arm around me.
Arthur said, “There must be an administrative mistake.”
“Maybe.”
The officer folded the paperwork.
“But I’m keeping this.”
Arthur took one step toward him.
The officer’s hand moved toward his belt.
Arthur stopped.
The dynamic in the room changed.
Not completely.
Men like Arthur did not lose power all at once.
But a crack had appeared.
And everybody could see it.
Daniel whispered to me, “Pack a bag.”
I nodded.
“Claire too.”
“She’s coming.”
Margaret looked at us.
“What about me?”
Arthur turned.
“You’re staying.”
She flinched.
Claire said, “Mom comes too.”
Arthur stared at his daughter.
“You have no idea what happens if you walk out that door.”
Claire swallowed.
“Maybe that’s why I need to.”
We moved quickly.
Daniel came upstairs with me.
As soon as we entered the bedroom, he shut the door.
I threw clothes into a suitcase.
“What did you find?” I asked.
“The foundation has been paying a medical consulting company for fifteen years.”
“Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Almost six million dollars.”
I stopped packing.
“For what?”
“No legitimate services.”
“Shell company?”
“Looks like it.”
“And the other transfers?”
“Properties. Private clinics. Settlement agreements.”
The word clinics made my stomach tighten.
“What kind of clinics?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Psychiatric.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel.”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Claire said Mercer has been coming here for years.”
His face darkened.
“I know.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed.
“When Claire was nineteen, she disappeared from college.”
“For six months?”
He nodded.
“She came home after what Dad called a breakdown.”
Claire had never mentioned it.
“Was it real?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Where did she go?”
“A private facility in Connecticut.”
“Owned by one of the companies?”
“I think so.”
I sat beside him.
My hands were shaking.
“What happened there?”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“She came back different.”
“How?”
“She didn’t remember certain things.”
I stared at him.
“What things?”
“Arguments. People. Almost the entire month before she left school.”
A horrible thought surfaced.
“The injections.”
Daniel looked at my arm.
Then away.
My heart pounded.
“What did Mercer inject us with?”
“I don’t know.”
We packed faster.
I opened the drawer where I had left my laptop.
Empty.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“My computer’s gone.”
He checked the desk.
“My external drive was in the bag.”
Gone too.
I looked under the bed.
Nothing.
Someone had taken every device containing the foundation records I had been reviewing.
Daniel swore.
“Dad.”
“Did you back them up?”
“Cloud.”
“Can he access it?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Then Daniel stopped.
“What?”
“My authenticator.”
“What about it?”
“It’s on my old phone.”
The phone Arthur had.
Daniel ran downstairs.
I followed.
Arthur was no longer in the living room.
Neither was Dr. Mercer.
“Where did they go?” Daniel demanded.
Margaret pointed toward the rear corridor.
“Office.”
Daniel sprinted.
The office door was locked.
He slammed his shoulder against it.
Once.
Twice.
The frame cracked.
Third time, the door opened.
Empty.
A second door stood open behind Arthur’s desk.
I had never seen it before.
A hidden stairway descended into darkness.
Claire arrived behind us.
“What is that?”
Daniel turned on his phone flashlight.
“I don’t know.”
Margaret whispered, “I do.”
Everyone looked at her.
Her face had gone white.
“Arthur told me that room was sealed thirty years ago.”
Daniel stared down the staircase.
“Why?”
Margaret began crying again.
“Because that’s where his father kept the records.”
“What records?”
She looked at Claire.
Then at Daniel.
“Everyone he had treated.”
Claire’s breathing changed.
“Mom.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Daniel stepped onto the first stair.
I grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
He looked at me.
“There could be another exit.”
He nodded.
Claire whispered, “Or they’re still down there.”
We descended together.
The air grew colder.
At the bottom was a steel door.
Daniel pushed it open.
Lights came on automatically.
Shelves stretched along both walls.
Hundreds of boxes.
Medical files.
Videotapes.
Hard drives.
Names written in black marker.
Daniel walked slowly.
I saw VANCE, CLAIRE.
VANCE, MARGARET.
VANCE, DANIEL.
Then I saw mine.
VANCE, REBECCA.
The box was thick.
Too thick.
I pulled it down.
Inside were photographs.
Me leaving work.
Me at grocery stores.
Me meeting friends.
Me before I had ever met Daniel.
I stopped breathing.
The earliest photograph was dated six years ago.
Daniel and I had met four years ago.
Arthur had been watching me two years before I ever knew his son existed.
Then Claire picked up another folder.
Her face drained.
“Rebecca.”
I looked.
The label read:
PROJECT BRIDE.
Below it was a date.
May you like
And beneath the date were three names.
Mine was one of them.
