Chapter 9
For two days, no one found Julian.
I hated myself for caring.
Then again, caring was not the same as forgiving.
Detective Collins called it a kidnapping.
Sarah called it leverage.
Thomas called it “the consequences of being raised by a serpent,” then apologized because Hazel was in the room.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
On the third morning, my toes moved.
Barely.
A twitch.
The neurologist smiled like he had seen sunrise.
“That is a good sign.”
I cried for five minutes.
Then I got back to war.
Federal agents raided North Ridge that afternoon.
They found locked rooms.
Sedated women.
Forged psychiatric holds.
Trust documents.
Power of attorney forms.
Some women had been there for months.
One for three years.
Her name was Marianne Vale.
Dr. Vale’s own wife.
She was found in a private wing, weak but lucid.
Her first words to agents were, “Eleanor has the baby list.”
Baby list.
My blood ran cold.
Marianne was brought to Mercy General under guard.
She asked to see me.
When she entered in a wheelchair, she looked at Hazel and began crying.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“Your father tried to save my daughter.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“What daughter?”
Marianne’s hands trembled.
“Victoria.”
The mistress.
Julian’s mistress was Dr. Vale’s daughter.
Marianne whispered, “Eleanor gave her to another family after declaring me unfit.”
My stomach turned.
Victoria did not know.
Or maybe she did.
Before I could ask, Detective Collins rushed in.
“We found Julian.”
I gripped the blanket.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
May you like
She hesitated.
“But he is inside the lake property bunker.”
