Chương 12
I knew before she said the rest.
“The channel users.”
“Yes.”
“What were they buying?”
Ortiz hesitated.
“Specific acts.”
My mouth went dry.
“On me?”
“Some.”
“Some?”
She glanced at Claire, then back.
“Some messages refer to Elena.”
The room went silent.
“Four years ago?”
“Yes.”
“So the channel existed then.”
“It appears an earlier version of it did.”
I felt something inside me settle into place.
Not relief.
Structure.
The horror had a history.
It had not begun because pregnancy made me vulnerable.
Pregnancy had simply made me useful.
“Did Marlene know about the money?”
Ortiz’s expression answered before she spoke.
“We found transfers to an account in her name.”
Claire whispered, “Jesus.”
I stared at Ortiz.
“How much?”
“We’re still calculating.”
“How far back?”
“Years.”
The fetal monitor kept beating.
Fast.
Steady.
Impossible to ignore.
I pressed my palm over the place where the baby moved.
For months, Marlene had told me she was protecting her son.
Now I understood the larger shape of it.
She had not merely protected Daniel from consequences.
She had learned how to profit from the thing she claimed to manage.
And somewhere between covering for him and controlling me, the two of them had stopped being mother and son cleaning up each other’s mistakes.
They had become partners.
The word partners stayed with me long after Ortiz stopped speaking.
It changed the weight of every memory.
Marlene complaining about Daniel’s recklessness was no longer a mother cleaning up after a son.
Daniel rolling his eyes when she gave instructions was no longer a grown man embarrassed by an overbearing parent.
They had been arguing about methods.
Not morality.
Methods.
Claire sat beside the bed with both hands wrapped around a paper cup she was not drinking from.
Ortiz had stepped into the hallway again to coordinate with the search team.
Dr. Feld was reviewing the monitor at the foot of the bed.
No one looked at me.
For a few minutes, that was a relief.
Then another contraction began.
It tightened low across my abdomen and moved into my back.
I shut my eyes.
Claire put the cup down.
“Hand?”
I nodded.
She gave me two fingers instead of her whole hand this time.
I squeezed them hard enough to turn her knuckles white.
When it ended, she shook out her hand.
“You know, I was using those.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t start apologizing again.”
I looked at her.
“You literally complained.”
“I can complain and still volunteer.”
That sounded so much like the sister I knew that something inside my chest loosened.
Not much.
Enough.
Dr. Feld came closer.
“They’re getting more regular.”
“How regular?”
She told me.
I stared at the ceiling.
“What happens if they don’t stop?”
“We prepare for the possibility of delivery.”
Claire’s face drained.
I asked, “How dangerous?”
Dr. Feld did not soften the answer.
“There are risks with preterm delivery.”
“Which risks?”
She explained them carefully.
Breathing.
Temperature control.
Feeding.
Time in neonatal intensive care.
The possibility of complications without pretending every possibility would happen.
I listened until the words blurred.
Then I asked the only question that mattered.
“Can you keep the baby safe?”
“We will do everything appropriate to support both of you.”
Not yes.
Not no.
Still honest.
I nodded.
Ortiz returned while Dr. Feld was finishing.
She waited until the doctor left before sitting.
“They found evidence that Marlene had access to the channel’s payment account.”
I looked at her.
“Direct access?”
“Yes.”
“Not just transfers?”
“Direct.”
Claire swore.
I barely heard her.
“Could she see the requests?”
“That appears likely.”
“Could she see what people were paying for?”
“Yes.”
The room seemed colder.
I remembered nights when Marlene would come upstairs already irritated.
She would say things like, He wants another one, or They’re asking for something stupid tonight.
I had assumed she was complaining about Daniel.
Maybe she had been complaining about customers.
“Did she ever message them herself?”
“We found an account that may be hers.”
“May be?”
“We’re still verifying ownership.”
“What did it say?”
Ortiz hesitated.
I stared at her until she answered.
“One message tells a user that Daniel is getting careless.”
My pulse jumped.
“About what?”
“The wording is vague.”
“Read it.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t have the full text in front of me.”
“What do you remember?”
“She says he needs to stop showing identifiable parts of the room.”
The fixed camera.
The boxes.
The attic window.
The old dresser.
My stomach twisted.
“She was protecting the channel.”
“That is one interpretation.”
“It’s the correct one.”
“I think the evidence will tell us more.”
I hated the restraint in her voice.
I also needed it.
Claire leaned forward.
“What about the other women?”
“Two names have been tentatively matched to real people.”
“Alive?” I asked.
“Yes.”
The answer came faster this time.
Relief hurt.
“Have you contacted them?”
“One has been reached.”
“The other?”
“Not yet.”
“Did either report him?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“How many women does one man get before someone notices?”
Ortiz looked tired.
“Sometimes people notice pieces.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
I looked toward the window.
Morning had fully arrived.
The parking garage was filling.
A man in blue scrubs hurried across the lower level eating something from a paper bag.
A woman backed into a parking space, pulled forward, tried again, then gave up and chose another spot.
Normal incompetence.
Normal impatience.
I watched her disappear through the entrance.
Seven months ago, I would have hated hospital parking too.
The thought was so ordinary it made me want to cry.
“Rachel,” Ortiz said.
I turned back.
“There’s one more thing about Elena.”
I braced.
“She remembers Marlene.”
Of course she did.
“How?”
“She says Marlene contacted her several times after the police report.”
“Threats?”
“Not exactly.”
“Money?”
“Partly.”
“What does that mean?”
Ortiz glanced at Claire.
May you like
Then back at me.
“Elena says Marlene offered to reimburse expenses if she dropped the matter.”
