Chapter 10 - ASHCROFT
Ethan stopped in the rain.
“What?”
Margaret ran after him as fast as her age allowed.
“That woman is too tall.”
Another shape moved behind the window.
Then the lights inside the abandoned hospital came on.
One by one.
First floor.
Second.
Third.
Claire whispered, “Someone wants us inside.”
Thomas took out his phone.
“No signal.”
One of his men checked his.
“Jammed.”
Ethan looked at the front entrance.
“Good.”
Claire grabbed his arm.
“What do you mean, good?”
“It means Nora is here.”
“Or it means someone wants you to think she is.”
Ethan looked at his wife.
Less than twelve hours into marriage, she was soaked in rain, wearing borrowed jeans and carrying a tire iron from the car.
He almost smiled.
“You can stay outside.”
“Say that again and our marriage ends before breakfast.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
They entered through a broken side door.
The smell hit first.
Mold.
Wet plaster.
Old chemicals.
Then Ethan heard music.
A woman singing.
His entire body locked.
It was the same melody from his memory.
Rain on a kitchen window.
Tomato soup.
Yellow blanket.
“Nora?”
The song stopped.
A speaker crackled overhead.
Then Charles Vane’s voice filled the hallway.
“Welcome home, Ethan.”
Thomas cursed.
“Vane!”
“Thomas. Disappointing to see you here.”
Ethan shouted, “Where is my mother?”
“Which version would you prefer?”
“Show yourself!”
“I always admired Richard’s ability to protect you from unpleasant facts.”
“Richard is a liar.”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Vane continued.
“But liars sometimes lie for good reasons.”
A door at the end of the hall unlocked.
Ethan walked toward it.
Claire stayed beside him.
Inside was an old treatment room.
A projector turned on.
Video filled one wall.
Nora.
Young.
Strapped to a hospital bed.
Ethan stopped.
She was screaming.
“WHERE IS MY SON?”
A younger Dr. Pierce leaned over her.
Nora kicked and fought.
“Richard said he’s dead.”
She sobbed.
“I DON’T BELIEVE HIM!”
The video jumped.
Now Richard stood beside the bed.
Young.
Handsome.
Cold.
Nora spat at him.
“You were drunk.”
Richard wiped his face.
“You’ll never see Ethan again.”
“I’ll tell them.”
“Who will believe you?”
“I’ll tell everybody!”
Richard leaned close.
“They’ll believe a grieving father before they believe a crazy woman.”
Ethan looked away.
Claire was crying silently.
Then the footage changed again.
A hallway.
A little boy being carried by Marcus Voss.
Ethan.
Five years old.
Ethan’s knees nearly gave out.
Marcus carried him past Nora’s room.
She was unconscious.
Richard followed.
The boy twisted in Marcus’s arms.
“Mommy!”
Ethan covered his mouth.
The memory exploded back into him.
He had seen her.
He had screamed.
Richard had told him afterward it was a nightmare.
The screen went black.
A door slammed behind them.
Thomas turned.
Locked.
Gas began hissing from vents in the ceiling.
Claire looked up.
“What is that?”
Vane’s voice returned.
“Some truths are healthier when forgotten.”
Ethan grabbed the door handle.
It wouldn’t move.
Margaret began coughing.
And from somewhere on the other side of the wall, Nora screamed:
May you like
“ETHAN!”
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