Chapter 4 - Maren did not sleep.Maren did not sleep.
At three in the morning, Elodie lay curled against her side in the hospital bed while Adrian sat in a chair across the room.
Neither of them had discussed Iris.
There were too many questions.
Too many impossible pieces.
Maren had learned that somewhere in the world might be a daughter she had carried, delivered and then been forced to forget.
The thought was so large her mind refused to hold it.
Instead, she focused on what she could see.
Elodie breathing.
The small bandage around her wrist.
Adrian staring at the floor.
At 3:17 a.m., he finally spoke.
“Do you remember being pregnant before Elodie?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
“Stop asking.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“So am I.”
He rubbed his face.
“Maren, if this is true—”
“It is not about you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her voice remained low so Elodie wouldn’t wake.
“You discovered tonight that your father may have engineered our marriage after chemically manipulating me. I discovered I might have another child.”
Adrian swallowed.
“I know.”
“And somehow you still sound like you’re wondering whether Elodie belongs to you.”
His eyes filled with pain.
“She does.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“I wasn’t.”
She looked at him.
He whispered,
“I was wondering how many things my father stole from us.”
That silenced her.
For all her anger, Adrian had been manipulated too.
Maybe not as cruelly.
Maybe not as completely.
But his life had also been arranged.
At dawn, Mercer returned.
She had bad news.
Celestine’s car had been found near the marina.
Empty.
Security footage showed her entering a maintenance building at 9:42 p.m.
She never came out.
Police searched the structure.
No sign of her.
“Hidden exit?” Adrian asked.
“Possibly.”
Maren looked at Mercer.
“Or someone took her.”
Mercer nodded.
“We’re treating her as missing.”
“What about the letter?”
“We’re verifying everything.”
“And Iris?”
“We found a record.”
Maren’s heart slammed.
Mercer placed a folder on the table.
“Iris Shaw. Eight years old. Foster placement outside Camden.”
Maren stared at the page.
There was no photograph.
“Why foster care?”
“Her adoptive mother died eighteen months ago.”
“Adoptive mother?”
“Caroline Webb. Single parent. Adoption finalized privately when Iris was an infant.”
Maren’s eyes filled.
“Can I see her?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to establish whether Gabriel’s claim is credible.”
“You have a hospital photograph.”
“We have a photograph that could be fabricated.”
Maren knew Mercer was right.
She hated her for it anyway.
“There’s more,” Mercer said.
“Of course there is.”
“Iris disappeared from her foster home yesterday morning.”
Maren stopped.
“What?”
“Before the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Who took her?”
“Nobody knows.”
Maren stood.
The movement woke Elodie.
“Mommy?”
Maren turned immediately.
“It’s okay.”
But nothing was okay.
Someone had removed Iris from her foster home hours before the bracelet was discovered.
That meant the events were connected.
The anonymous caller.
Gabriel.
Celestine.
Blackthorn.
Iris.
All moving at once.
Mercer said,
“We need to know who sent the locker information.”
Maren looked at the letter.
“Gabriel.”
“Maybe.”
“You think someone is using his identity?”
“I think assuming anything right now is dangerous.”
A nurse entered with discharge paperwork.
Child protective services had placed temporary restrictions on Elodie returning to Blackthorn House.
Until the investigation was complete, she could stay with either Adrian or Maren at a neutral residence.
Adrian surprised Maren.
“She stays with Maren.”
The CPS worker looked up.
“You’re agreeing voluntarily?”
“Yes.”
Maren stared at him.
Adrian kept his eyes on Elodie.
“She needs her mother.”
Lenora would have hated the sentence.
Perhaps that was why it mattered.
They left through a private hospital exit to avoid reporters.
News of the wedding disaster had already leaked.
VALE FAMILY WEDDING INTERRUPTED BY POLICE INVESTIGATION.
No details yet.
That would change.
Maren took Elodie to her apartment.
It was small compared to Adrian’s houses.
Two bedrooms.
A narrow kitchen.
A balcony overlooking a parking lot.
Maren had spent months preparing the second bedroom for the possibility that custody might someday expand.
Elodie had visited it twice.
Now she walked inside and stared at the yellow bedspread.
“You kept my fox.”
Maren smiled through tears.
“Of course.”
The original stuffed fox sat on the pillow.
Elodie hugged it.
Adrian stood in the doorway.
Something in his expression broke.
“I should have let her come here more.”
Maren looked at him.
“Yes.”
No comforting lie.
He nodded.
“I know.”
Before leaving, he gave Maren a new phone.
“For security.”
“I have a phone.”
“This one is on an isolated account. My security team can’t access it.”
“Your security team?”
He understood.
“My mother can’t access it.”
Maren took the device.
“Thank you.”
He hesitated.
“Can I come back tonight?”
“For Elodie?”
“Yes.”
Maren considered.
Then nodded.
“Six.”
Adrian left.
Maren locked the door.
For the first time in three years, she was alone with her daughter without a court-appointed supervisor.
The realization nearly crushed her.
Elodie sat on the living room rug.
“Can we make pancakes?”
“It’s lunchtime.”
“Lunch pancakes.”
Maren laughed.
“Yes.”
They were halfway through mixing batter when someone knocked.
Maren froze.
Nobody knew she was home except Mercer and Adrian.
She checked the camera.
A delivery driver stood outside.
Brown jacket.
Cap.
Package in hand.
She did not open the door.
“Leave it there,” she called.
The man looked directly at the camera.
Then walked away.
Maren waited five minutes.
She called Mercer.
Mercer told her not to touch the package.
Police arrived.
Bomb squad cleared it.
Inside was a red child’s backpack.
The same brand listed on Iris Shaw’s missing-child report.
Maren stared from the doorway.
Mercer opened the bag wearing gloves.
Inside were crayons.
A paperback book.
A photograph of Maren.
And a digital voice recorder.
Mercer pressed play.
A little girl’s voice filled the room.
“My name is Iris.”
Maren stopped breathing.
“If you’re hearing this, I did what Gabriel told me.”
Maren looked at Mercer.
Iris continued.
“He says you’re my mother.”
A pause.
“I don’t know if I believe him.”
Another pause.
Then the child’s voice became frightened.
“But the woman who took me says you’re dangerous.”
Maren’s skin went cold.
“She says you tried to hurt me when I was a baby.”
Mercer paused the recording.
Maren whispered,
“Keep playing.”
Iris continued.
“I asked why I don’t remember you.”
The recorder crackled.
“She said because they fixed me too.”
Maren covered her mouth.
Elodie appeared in the hallway holding her fox.
“Mommy?”
Mercer stopped the recording.
Maren knelt.
“It’s okay.”
But Elodie was looking at the red backpack.
“That’s Iris’s.”
Maren’s heart stopped.
Mercer crouched.
“Elodie, how do you know Iris?”
Elodie’s face went blank.
Then fear entered her eyes.
“Nana said I’m not supposed to remember her.”
Maren grabbed the wall.
Mercer’s voice softened.
“Where did you meet her?”
“At the downstairs place.”
Blackthorn.
Maren felt sick.
“What did Iris do there?”
Elodie whispered,
“She slept a lot.”
Maren looked at Mercer.
The officer’s face had gone hard.
Elodie continued,
“Mr. Tom said we were sisters.”
Maren’s eyes filled.
“You saw Iris recently?”
Elodie nodded.
“At Nana’s house.”
“When?”
Elodie held up four fingers.
“Four days ago?”
She nodded.
Maren’s hands shook.
Iris hadn’t disappeared from foster care yesterday.
She had already been at Blackthorn days earlier.
Someone had altered the timeline.
Mercer immediately called her team.
“Recheck every foster-care contact. Every camera. Everything.”
Maren picked up the recorder again.
“There’s more.”
The final portion contained silence for eleven seconds.
Then a man’s voice.
No distortion.
Warm.
Tired.
“Maren.”
Her entire body reacted.
She knew that voice.
Not consciously.
Somewhere deeper.
Her heart recognized it.
Gabriel.
“If you want Iris alive, do not trust the police record of where she disappeared.”
Mercer’s jaw tightened.
Gabriel continued.
“Everett’s program did not die with Everett.”
A sound in the background.
A door.
Then his voice lowered.
“And Lenora is not running it.”
Maren stared at Mercer.
“Who is?”
The recording answered.
“Adrian is.”
The room went silent.
Maren shook her head.
“No.”
Gabriel continued.
“He may not know he’s doing it.”
A chill moved through Maren.
“What does that mean?”
The recorder crackled.
“Ask Adrian what happens every Thursday at 11:40 p.m.”
Then the message ended.
Maren looked at the clock.
Thursday.
9:06 p.m.
Adrian was due back within an hour.
May you like
And at 11:40 tonight, according to a man Maren could not remember loving, something happened to her ex-husband.
Something Adrian himself might not remember.
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