Chapter 6 — Simone's Secret
Chapter 6 — Simone's Secret
By sunrise, I had learned one thing about fear.
It did not always arrive screaming.
Sometimes it arrived quietly.
Sometimes it stood beside a hospital crib and watched your baby sleep.
Sometimes it wore a nurse's uniform.
Sometimes it carried a legal folder.
And sometimes it looked like a woman in the next hospital bed.
Simone.
I hadn't thought about her in two days.
That was the problem.
The moment my son was born, everything else had become background noise—the emergency delivery, the locked supply room, Nathan's betrayal, Doreen's plan, Evelyn's impossible return, and the revelation that my husband had been stolen from his biological mother as a child.
But now, standing beside Lucas's crib, I remembered Simone's voice.
Her expensive perfume.
Her perfectly curled hair.
The strange way she had answered phone calls.
The way she had watched me whenever Doreen visited.
And one sentence she had said during our first afternoon together.
Take any bed except this one.
At the time, I'd thought she was simply rude.
Now I wondered whether she'd been afraid.
Mae found me in the nursery just after seven.
She looked like she hadn't slept.
"You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"That's what you said yesterday."
"I'm thinking."
"That's dangerous when you're exhausted."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she handed me a cup of coffee.
"Where's Evelyn?"
"Meeting with the lawyers."
"Any word from Nathan?"
Mae hesitated.
"No."
My stomach tightened.
"Did the police find him?"
"Not yet."
I looked at Lucas.
"He went to Doreen."
Mae nodded.
"Probably."
"Why?"
"Because she's his mother."
I looked at her.
"She's not."
Mae's expression softened.
"No. But she's the only mother he's ever known."
That was the part I couldn't stop thinking about.
Nathan had betrayed me.
There was no excuse for that.
But what if the man who betrayed me had been raised to believe a lie so completely that he couldn't recognize the truth?
What if Doreen had spent thirty-four years teaching him that obedience was love?
It didn't make him innocent.
But it made the story more complicated.
And complicated stories were dangerous.
Because they made it harder to know whom to forgive.
At 8:15, a woman entered the nursery.
She wore a beige coat and carried a folder.
"Mrs. Carver?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Dr. Elaine Porter. Hospital patient advocate."
I looked at Mae.
Mae nodded.
"She's legitimate."
Dr. Porter pulled a chair closer.
"I've reviewed the documents surrounding your admission."
"Then you know about the psychiatric hold."
"I do."
"Was it legal?"
She hesitated.
"Technically, the hospital had grounds to initiate an emergency evaluation based on the documentation submitted."
My jaw tightened.
"The documentation was fabricated."
"We're investigating that."
"Dr. Rusk signed it."
"I know."
"She delivered my baby."
"I know."
"And she was paid by Doreen."
"I know that too."
I stared at her.
"Then why isn't she arrested?"
"Because financial records alone don't establish intent."
I laughed bitterly.
"She signed a psychiatric evaluation on a woman she never examined."
Dr. Porter closed the folder.
"We'll prove it."
"How?"
"Patient records."
She paused.
"Which brings me to Simone."
My attention sharpened.
"What about her?"
"Do you remember what she told you?"
"That she was pregnant."
"Anything else?"
I thought.
Her silk robe.
The phone calls.
The expensive products.
The way she never let anyone touch her chart.
"No."
Dr. Porter looked at Mae.
Mae nodded.
Then Dr. Porter said:
"Simone isn't listed as a maternity patient."
I stared.
"What?"
"Her admission record says she was receiving observation for hypertension."
"But she told me she was eight months pregnant."
"She isn't."
My skin prickled.
"Then what is she doing here?"
Dr. Porter leaned closer.
"That's what we're trying to find out."
We found Simone on the third floor.
She was sitting beside a window.
Alone.
Her perfect hair was gone.
Her face looked pale.
The silk robe had been replaced by a hospital gown.
When she saw me, she immediately looked away.
I stopped at the doorway.
"Simone."
She didn't answer.
I stepped inside.
"Can I talk to you?"
Her eyes remained on the window.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I know."
"You need to leave."
"Why?"
She finally looked at me.
Fear filled her face.
Not guilt.
Fear.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
Her lips trembled.
"You found out."
"About what?"
She looked at the hallway.
Then lowered her voice.
"You're not supposed to know about me."
"Who told you that?"
"Doreen."
My stomach tightened.
"How do you know her?"
Simone closed her eyes.
"Because she hired me."
I stared.
"For what?"
She began crying.
And suddenly the woman who had seemed arrogant and untouchable looked very young.
"I was supposed to watch you."
I sat down.
"Watch me?"
"Your pregnancy."
"Why?"
"To report your behavior."
I felt sick.
"What behavior?"
"Anything that could be interpreted as unstable."
"Like what?"
"You crying."
I stared.
"You cried?"
"Everyone cries."
"Exactly."
She wiped her face.
"Your husband told Doreen that you were becoming emotional and suspicious."
I remembered Nathan telling me I was imagining things.
I remembered every argument.
Every time he'd told me I was overreacting.
Every time Doreen had said pregnancy hormones were making me irrational.
I felt cold.
"What did you report?"
Simone looked down.
"Everything."
"What?"
"That you woke up at night."
I stared at her.
"That you asked questions."
"Yes."
"That you didn't like Doreen."
"Yes."
"That you were worried about the baby."
"Yes."
I laughed.
"They turned normal pregnancy behavior into evidence."
Simone nodded.
"That was the plan."
"Why would you help them?"
She looked at me.
"I needed money."
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand."
"For spying on me?"
"Twenty-five up front."
"And the rest?"
"When the baby was born."
I looked toward the hallway.
"Did you know they planned to take him?"
Simone hesitated.
"I knew they wanted custody."
"That's not what I asked."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't know about the psychiatric hold."
I believed her.
Mostly.
"Then what did you know?"
She swallowed.
"Doreen told me the baby would be safer with family."
"She said that to everyone."
"She said you were unstable."
"She said that to everyone too."
Simone looked at me.
"She told me something else."
"What?"
"She said Nathan wasn't really your husband."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Simone shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Tell me."
"Doreen said Nathan was a replacement."
The room seemed to tilt.
"A replacement for who?"
Simone whispered:
"Elias."
I stood.
"How do you know that name?"
"Because I heard Doreen say it."
"When?"
"Two nights before you gave birth."
"What did she say?"
Simone closed her eyes, remembering.
"She was on the phone."
"With whom?"
"I don't know."
"Tell me exactly."
Simone hesitated.
"She said, 'Nathan was easier to control because he never knew what happened to his brother.'"
My heart pounded.
"What else?"
"She said, 'If Leah discovers Elias is alive, the trust is finished.'"
I stared at her.
"Then she knows where he is."
"I think so."
"What did she say?"
Simone's voice dropped.
"She said one sentence."
"What?"
"He's already inside."
My blood ran cold.
"Inside what?"
"I don't know."
"Simone."
"I swear."
She grabbed my hand.
"I don't know."
I pulled away.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was afraid."
"Of Doreen?"
"Of everyone."
She looked at the door.
"I tried to leave."
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"What happened?"
"They caught me."
"Who?"
She whispered:
"Hospital security."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because Doreen told them I was stealing confidential records."
"Did you?"
"No."
"What records?"
She looked at me.
"Yours."
Simone reached beneath her mattress.
She pulled out a thin envelope.
"I took these before they could destroy them."
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
The first page was a copy of my prenatal records.
The second was a psychological assessment.
The third was a financial authorization.
The fourth stopped my breath.
It was a birth certificate application.
Not for Lucas.
For another child.
The mother's name was blank.
The father's name was blank.
But under Authorized Guardian was:
Doreen Carver.
The date was six years earlier.
I looked at Simone.
"What is this?"
"I don't know."
"Why was it in my file?"
"It wasn't."
She pointed to the corner.
"Look at the code."
I did.
EC-01.
Evelyn Carver.
My heart began racing.
"This is connected to her."
Simone nodded.
"That's what I thought."
I turned the page.
There was a photograph.
A little boy.
Maybe six years old.
Brown hair.
Hazel eyes.
A small scar above his eyebrow.
I couldn't breathe.
It was Elias.
Alive.
And standing beside him was a man I recognized.
Nathan.
But Nathan looked younger.
Maybe twenty.
The photograph had been taken fourteen years earlier.
I stared at it.
"If Elias was alive fourteen years ago..."
Simone whispered:
"Then Doreen lied."
I looked at the photograph again.
Nathan wasn't smiling.
He was looking at Elias as though he knew him.
As though he'd known him for years.
As though he hadn't merely discovered that his brother existed.
He had been seeing him.
Secretly.
I rushed to find Evelyn.
She was in a conference room with two attorneys.
I put the photograph on the table.
She stopped breathing.
"Where did you get this?"
"Simone."
Evelyn picked it up.
Her hands began trembling.
"That's Elias."
"I know."
She stared at Nathan's younger face.
"He found him."
"When?"
"Fourteen years ago."
"Why didn't he tell you?"
"I don't know."
I looked at her.
"Maybe Doreen threatened him."
"Maybe."
"Maybe he was afraid."
"Maybe."
"But there's something else."
I placed the birth certificate application beside the photograph.
Evelyn stared.
Her expression changed.
"EC-01."
"What does it mean?"
She didn't answer.
One of the attorneys did.
"It's an internal Carver family code."
"For what?"
"Estate beneficiaries."
I looked at him.
"EC-01?"
He nodded.
"Evelyn Carver, first-line beneficiary."
My heart stopped.
"Then why would a child's birth certificate have it?"
The attorney looked at Evelyn.
She whispered:
"Because Elias wasn't just my son."
"What was he?"
Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
"The legal heir to my father's entire estate."
Silence.
Everything suddenly made sense.
Doreen hadn't simply stolen a child.
She had stolen an inheritance.
Nathan had been the replacement.
The son raised under Doreen's control.
The son who could be manipulated.
The son who could marry me.
The son who could produce another heir.
My son.
Lucas.
The twenty-million-dollar trust wasn't the beginning.
It was the end of a plan that had started decades earlier.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Lucas was finally resting.
The hospital room was dark except for the small lamp beside my bed.
I looked at my phone.
No messages from Nathan.
No calls.
Nothing.
Then, at 2:13 a.m., the screen lit up.
Unknown number.
You found Simone.
My heart stopped.
Another message.
Good.
Another.
Now ask her about the room with no windows.
I stared.
Then another message arrived.
Elias is not the only child Doreen hid.
My hands went cold.
I called Simone.
No answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
I ran into the hallway.
"Mae!"
She appeared from the nurses' station.
"What happened?"
"Where is Simone?"
"Her room."
We ran.
The door was open.
The bed was empty.
The window was locked.
Her shoes remained beneath the bed.
Her phone was on the pillow.
And on the wall, written in red lipstick, were four words:
SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH.
Mae stared.
I felt my knees weaken.
Then a nurse shouted from the end of the corridor.
"Security!"
We turned.
A man in a dark jacket was walking away.
Mae pointed.
"That's him."
"Who?"
"The man from the supply room."
I ran.
He saw me.
He ran faster.
The corridor erupted into chaos.
A door slammed.
A cart overturned.
Someone shouted for security.
The man disappeared around the corner.
When we reached the stairwell, he was gone.
But something lay on the floor.
A hospital identification badge.
I picked it up.
The photograph belonged to a man named:
Dr. Victor Hale.
I stared at the name.
Then at Mae.
"Who is Victor Hale?"
Her face went pale.
"He's not a doctor."
"Then why does he have a hospital badge?"
Mae swallowed.
"Because Doreen has been paying him for years."
"For what?"
Mae looked toward the empty hallway.
"Finding people."
Two hours later, Simone was found.
Not in the hospital.
Not in the parking garage.
Not anywhere near Briar Glen.
She was discovered unconscious in a locked storage room beneath the old maternity wing.
Alive.
Barely.
When she woke, she said only one sentence.
"I saw where they keep the children."
The police asked her what she meant.
She refused to answer.
Then she looked at me.
"Your baby is in danger."
I held Lucas tighter.
"Why?"
Simone's eyes filled with tears.
"Because Doreen doesn't want him for the trust."
"Then what does she want?"
Simone whispered:
"She wants to replace him."
"With whom?"
She looked at Evelyn.
Then at Nathan's photograph.
Then back at me.
"With Elias."
I frowned.
"But Elias is an adult."
Simone shook her head.
"You don't understand."
She grabbed my wrist.
"I saw him."
"Where?"
"Inside the hospital."
My blood ran cold.
"Where?"
Simone pointed toward the old maternity wing.
"The room with no windows."
Then she whispered the words that made every piece of the puzzle fall into place.
"Elias isn't missing."
"He is being kept here."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
Simone closed her eyes.
"Because Doreen has been waiting thirty years for the right child to be born."
I looked down at Lucas.
My newborn son.
The child Doreen had called unstable circumstances.
The child she had tried to remove from my arms.
The child whose existence could activate a fortune.
And suddenly I understood.
The hospital wasn't merely helping Doreen.
It was part of her plan.
And somewhere beneath the maternity ward, behind a door with no windows, was a secret someone had spent decades protecting.
A secret that could destroy the Carver family.
May you like
A secret that could explain why Nathan had chosen his mother.
And a secret that might finally reveal what happened to the children who disappeared before Lucas was born.
