Chapter 4: The Photograph That Shouldn't Exist
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The photograph lay inside the metal cabinet, its edges yellowed with age. Brielle was holding a newborn baby wrapped in a pale blue blanket. She looked younger, but unmistakably herself.
And standing beside her was me.
Or someone who looked exactly like me.
I reached for the photograph.
Daniel grabbed my wrist.
“Marcus, don't touch anything else. We need to get out of here.””
I barely heard him.
My eyes were fixed on the date printed beneath the image.
May 22.
Eight months after Hannah disappeared.
“That's impossible,” I whispered.
Daniel examined the picture.
“Maybe it's been altered.””
“No. Look at the background.””
Behind Brielle was a hospital sign. The same hospital where I had undergone emergency surgery following a serious car accident seven years ago.
I remembered that night.
I remembered waking up in a hospital bed with a fractured collarbone and a concussion.
I remembered my mother sitting beside me.
I remembered Brielle visiting with flowers.
But I had no memory of holding a baby.
“Why was Brielle at the hospital?”” Daniel asked.
I turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten message.
Our family begins here. Everything is finally in place.
The handwriting belonged to Brielle.
A sound came from the staircase.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Richard's voice echoed through the basement.
“Marcus, I know you're down there.””
Daniel switched off his flashlight.
Lily pressed herself against my side.
I put a finger to my lips.
Richard continued.
“You've always been a smart man. Don't ruin your future over a woman who has spent seven years manipulating everyone around her.””
Brielle spoke next.
“Marcus, sweetheart, please come upstairs. We can still fix this.””
Her voice was gentle.
Almost loving.
That made it worse.
Daniel leaned close to my ear.
“There's another exit?””
I shook my head.
He pointed toward a narrow doorway behind the filing cabinets.
We moved quietly toward it.
The door opened into a small storage room. Behind a stack of wooden crates was an old exterior hatch.
I pushed against it.
It wouldn't move.
Something heavy was resting on top.
Above us, Richard's footsteps reached the basement floor.
“Where are they?”” he demanded.
Brielle answered.
“Check the desk.””
A drawer slammed.
Then Richard said something that made my blood run cold.
“The girl is the priority. If Marcus has already seen the photograph, there's no reason to keep pretending.””
Lily's breathing became faster.
I knelt beside her.
“Listen to me. Whatever happens, you stay behind Daniel. Don't let go of his hand.””
She nodded.
Richard suddenly shouted.
“Marcus!””
The metal cabinet slammed shut.
“Do you know what that photograph means?””
I didn't answer.
“It means you have been living with a lie. A very expensive lie.””
Brielle interrupted him.
“Richard, stop talking.””
He laughed.
“Why? Afraid he'll finally understand?””
Then I heard something being dragged across the floor.
Daniel pushed harder against the hatch.
“Come on,” he whispered.
I helped him.
The hatch moved an inch.
Then another.
Cold night air slipped into the room.
We squeezed through one at a time.
I lifted Lily into Daniel's arms and climbed out after them.
We landed behind the house, near the overgrown garden.
The moment my shoes touched the ground, I heard glass breaking inside.
Richard had found the storage room.
“Move!”” Daniel shouted.
We ran toward his car parked two streets away.
Halfway there, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I answered without stopping.
“Hello?””
A man's voice whispered.
“Mr. Hayes, this is Dr. Collins. You don't know me, but I treated Hannah seven years ago.””
I stopped.
“Where is she?””
“I can't speak long. Richard has been asking questions about you.””
“Is Hannah alive?””
A pause.
Then the doctor said, “Yes. But there's something you need to understand. The woman you think is responsible for her disappearance isn't the person who arranged it.””
I looked at Daniel.
“Who arranged it?””
The doctor lowered his voice.
“Your mother didn't simply sign the custody documents. She was paid to do it.””
My stomach tightened.
“Paid by whom?””
“Brielle Caldwell.””
Before I could ask anything else, the doctor whispered:
“And Mr. Hayes, there's another child.””
The call disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Another child?
Daniel approached.
“What happened?””
I looked at Lily.
She was watching me with frightened eyes.
I couldn't tell her what I had just heard.
Not yet.
We got into the car and drove to Daniel's apartment, where we could keep Lily safe while figuring out our next move.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the photograph.
The baby.
Brielle.
And the version of myself I apparently couldn't remember.
At 11:46 p.m., Daniel finally managed to access the hospital's archived records using an old business contact.
He turned his laptop toward me.
“Marcus, I found something.””
A patient admission record appeared.
My name.
May 22, seven years earlier.
Below it was a visitor list.
Brielle Caldwell.
Richard Caldwell.
And one additional visitor.
Hannah Miller.
I stared at the screen.
“Hannah was at the hospital?””
Daniel nodded.
“According to the records, she visited you twice that day.””
I rubbed my forehead.
“Why don't I remember?””
“Your medical file says you experienced temporary memory loss following the accident.””
I read further.
Then I saw a note attached to the discharge summary.
Patient's family requested restricted visitor access following incident involving an infant.
I felt my heart pound.
“What infant?””
Daniel opened another document.
A newborn girl had been admitted to the same hospital that morning.
Mother: Brielle Caldwell.
Father: Unknown.
The child had been discharged under the care of Richard Caldwell.
But the next page contained something even stranger.
The infant's birth certificate had been amended three weeks later.
The original mother's name had been crossed out.
In its place was a different name.
Hannah Miller.
I stared at it.
“Brielle gave birth?””
Daniel shook his head.
“There's no evidence of that. Her medical records show she wasn't pregnant.””
“Then why was her name on the original certificate?””
Daniel opened the attached scan.
At the bottom was a handwritten statement.
The biological mother has agreed to surrender all parental rights.
It was signed by Hannah.
But the signature looked wrong.
I had seen Hannah's handwriting thousands of times.
This wasn't hers.
My phone vibrated again.
A message appeared.
Unknown number.
Stop investigating. You have already lost one family. Don't lose another.
A second message arrived immediately afterward.
It contained a photograph.
Lily.
Taken through the window of Daniel's apartment.
I jumped up.
“Get away from the windows!””
Daniel grabbed Lily and pulled her toward the hallway.
Outside, a dark vehicle sped away from the curb.
Then my phone rang.
This time, it was Brielle.
I answered.
“Where is Hannah?””
She sighed.
“Marcus, I know you're frightened.””
“Answer the question.””
“I can tell you where she is.””
My grip tightened.
“Then tell me.””
“Come alone.””
“No.””
“Then you'll never know what happened to the baby in that photograph.””
I went silent.
Brielle continued.
“You think Lily is the only child connected to your past?””
My heart began racing.
“What are you talking about?””
She whispered:
“Ask your mother what happened to the second baby.””
The call ended.
I looked at Daniel.
Then at Lily.
And suddenly, I understood why Richard had been so desperate to retrieve the photograph.
It wasn't simply proof that Brielle had been involved in Hannah's disappearance.
May you like
It was proof that someone had taken another child.
And that child might still be alive.
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