Chương 7
“Okay.”
“And because you have raised concerns about unauthorized account access and possible false documentation, we are documenting those concerns.”
“Okay.”
Marisol touched my shoulder.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“Your baby’s heart rate looks good.”
I looked at the monitor.
The line moved steadily.
“Good.”
“That is what we know right now.”
I nodded.
“Right now.”
My phone vibrated against the blanket.
A new message from Eric appeared.
Lauren is at the house.
I stopped breathing.
A second message came.
Tell her to leave.
I stared at the message until the words blurred.
“How does he know?”
Lauren answered from the speaker.
“Know what?”
“That you’re there.”
The room went quiet.
Then Lauren said, “I didn’t tell him.”
Janet stood.
“Are you inside the house now?”
“Yes.”
“Is the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Any sign he’s nearby?”
“No.”
I looked at the message again.
Tell her to leave.
Another arrived.
She has no permission to go through my files.
I felt something drop through my chest.
“He knows you’re in the office.”
Lauren stopped breathing for a second.
“What?”
“He said you’re going through his files.”
Janet held out her hand.
“May I?”
I gave her the phone.
She read the messages, then looked at Lauren’s name on the active call.
“Lauren, does the house have indoor cameras?”
“Not that I know of.”
I answered before she could continue.
“We have a doorbell camera.”
“Who has access?”
“Both of us.”
Janet nodded.
“That could explain how he knows you entered.”
“No.”
Lauren’s voice sharpened.
“The office is at the back of the house.”
I looked at the ceiling.
“There’s an old baby monitor.”
Lauren went silent.
I could see it in my mind.
Eric had bought a camera monitor online three months earlier and installed it in the nursery.
He had spent an entire Saturday complaining that the app would not connect.
Then he said he returned it.
“Check the nursery.”
“Rachel, I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
“I mean I really don’t like this.”
Janet stepped closer to the phone.
“If you feel unsafe, leave.”
“I’m not unsafe.”
“Do not assume that.”
Lauren sighed.
“You sound exactly like my sister.”
“That is probably not a compliment.”
“It isn’t.”
A contraction rolled through me as Lauren crossed the house.
I heard her footsteps through the speaker.
Cabinet doors opened.
Something bumped against a wall.
Then she swore.
“What?”
“There’s a camera.”
My grip tightened around the blanket.
“Where?”
“Top shelf in the nursery closet.”
“That’s not where he installed it.”
“No.”
“Is it on?”
“I don’t know.”
Janet said, “Don’t touch it.”
“I already did.”
“Put it back.”
Lauren muttered something about everyone giving her orders today.
Then her tone changed.
“There’s another one.”
“Another camera?”
“Office bookshelf.”
Cold moved over my skin.
Eric’s messages continued arriving.
Rachel, answer me.
This is insane.
Tell Lauren to leave now.
Janet handed the phone back.
“Do not respond yet.”
I looked at her.
“You’re telling me not to?”
“I’m suggesting you avoid escalating until you know where he is.”
“Can the hospital find out?”
“Security can determine whether he remains on hospital property.”
She stepped into the hall.
Marisol stayed with me.
Lauren spoke through the phone.
“I’m leaving.”
“Take the papers.”
“I am.”
“Photograph them first.”
“Already did.”
“Lauren.”
“What?”
“The originals.”
“What about them?”
I hesitated.
Those papers were in our house.
Mine and Eric’s.
If Lauren removed them, he could claim she had stolen them.
If she left them, he might destroy them.
My brain felt slow, clogged by exhaustion and medication and fear.
Janet had told her to preserve them, not to take them.
“Leave the originals.”
Lauren groaned.
“He’s going to shred them.”
“Maybe.”
“Rachel.”
“Take pictures of every page and leave the originals exactly where they were.”
“That feels wrong.”
“It probably is the least wrong option.”
Another message from Eric appeared.
I know she took pictures.
I stopped moving.
“Lauren.”
“What?”
“He knows you photographed them.”
There was no answer.
“Lauren?”
“I’m here.”
Her voice had gone thin.
“Leave now.”
“I am.”
I heard papers moving.
“No, leave them.”
“I’m putting them back.”
“Don’t organize anything.”
“I’m not.”
A distant sound came through the phone.
A car door.
Lauren stopped talking.
“Was that yours?”
“No.”
“Get out.”
“I’m going.”
Her footsteps became faster.
A door opened.
Then another sound.
A male voice, too distant to make out.
Lauren whispered, “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Who is it?”
“Eric.”
The fetal monitor changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for Marisol’s eyes to snap toward it.
“Rachel, breathe.”
I was already breathing too fast.
“Lauren, lock yourself in the car.”
“I’m halfway down the driveway.”
“Do not talk to him.”
“I know.”
Eric’s voice came closer through the phone.
“Lauren.”
She ignored him.
“Lauren, stop.”
A car beeped.
She had unlocked it.
Then Eric said, loud enough for me to hear clearly, “Those documents are private.”
Lauren opened the car door.
“They have my sister’s signature on them.”
“They concern my family.”
“She is your family, idiot.”
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Lauren.”
“Back up.”
The car door shut.
I heard locks click.
Relief nearly made me dizzy.
Eric knocked against her window.
“Open the door.”
Lauren’s voice came through clenched teeth.
“Rachel, call the police.”
Janet reappeared in the doorway with a hospital security supervisor behind her.
“Do it,” she said.
I dialed 911.
My fingers kept missing the numbers.
The dispatcher’s voice steadied everything.
Address.
Description.
Whether anyone had weapons.
Whether Lauren was injured.
Whether Eric had threatened her.
“No.”
I swallowed.
“Not exactly.”
The dispatcher told Lauren to remain in the locked vehicle if she could do so safely.
Lauren put her own phone on speaker and lowered it into the cup holder.
Eric’s voice was still audible.
“You’re making this worse.”
“No,” Lauren said through the glass.
“You did that.”
“Give me what you took.”
“I didn’t take anything.”
May you like
“You photographed confidential material.”
“They’re documents about Rachel.”
