Chương 2
They had names. Mara had chosen them in the hospital, though she had never been allowed to say the names to anyone.
Lucy.
Evan.
The bracelets did not know that.
The bracelets only knew letters.
Voss was watching her.
“Why did you come here?” Mara asked.
For the first time, the doctor did not have a prepared response.
It lasted less than a second.
“I was asked to speak to your husband.”
“By who?”
“The hospital.”
“About our bodies?”
“Mara.”
Voss’s tone softened.
That frightened Mara more than the coldness.
“You’ve been through a traumatic delivery.”
“Don’t.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“Don’t use my name.”
Voss stopped.
Adrian gave the dispatcher a description of the doctor and then, after a glance at the elevator, said, “She’s still here.”
Voss looked at him.
“Am I?”
Adrian stepped aside.
It surprised everyone.
“You can leave,” he said.
Voss did not move.
“The elevator has cameras. The lobby has cameras. Police are already coming. If you want to walk out, Doctor, walk out.”
Her face went flat.
Mara understood the calculation. Staying looked strange. Leaving looked worse.
Voss reached into her coat.
Adrian’s shoulders changed.
She stopped with her hand still inside.
“My phone.”
“Slowly.”
Voss pulled it out.
“You really do think you’re still at work, don’t you?”
“No,” Adrian said. “At work I have rules about how close I stand to people I don’t trust.”
Her eyes narrowed.
She called someone.
Mara did not hear the other end.
Voss said only, “I need you at the Cole residence. Now.”
Then she disconnected.
Adrian looked at Mara.
“Can I move you?”
She shook her head.
He did not argue.
That alone told her how frightened he was.
He took the sofa cushion and lowered it behind her instead, careful not to touch her back. When the fabric brushed one of the scratches, Mara’s breath caught.
Adrian’s eyes went to the marks.
“What did that?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t know.”
He wanted details.
Adrian always wanted details. Measurements. Sequence. Names. What happened first, what happened next, who had been standing where.
She loved that about him when something was broken in the kitchen.
She hated it about him when she was the broken thing.
“Later,” she said.
His face tightened.
“All right.”
Footsteps sounded beyond the elevator.
Voss turned.
Two building security officers appeared in the car behind her, both looking deeply unhappy.
The older one, Miguel, recognized Adrian first.
“Sir, we got an elevator impact alert.”
Then he saw Mara.
His entire face changed.
“Oh, Jesus.”
“Call the lobby,” Adrian said. “Police and EMS are coming up. Nobody gets redirected.”
Miguel nodded, already reaching for his radio.
Voss stepped out of the elevator.
Adrian moved sideways.
Not toward her.
Between her and Mara.
“Dr. Voss,” Miguel said uncertainly, because apparently even the building staff knew her. “Are you with them?”
“No,” Mara said.
Miguel’s eyes went to the blood on the floor.
“Okay.”
The younger security guard swallowed.
Nobody knew where to look.
Mara’s daughter stopped crying.
The fireplace popped softly.
Somewhere far below, a horn sounded in traffic.
Normal sounds.
Mara clung to them.
The paramedics arrived six minutes later with two police officers, and those six minutes lasted longer than the labor.
Mara refused to let anyone take the babies from her until one paramedic, a woman named Sherry with silver braids tucked against her collar, crouched low enough to be at eye level.
“I’m not taking anybody anywhere without telling you,” she said. “But I need to see if all three of you are okay enough for that promise to matter.”
Mara stared at her.
Sherry waited.
No soothing smile.
No hand reaching without permission.
“Okay,” Mara whispered.
They worked around her.
Blood pressure. Pulse. Questions.
How long ago had she delivered?
“I don’t know exactly.”
Had the placentas delivered?
“Yes.”
Was she sure?
“I think so.”
Any medication?
“I don’t know.”
Allergies?
“No.”
Loss of consciousness?
“Maybe.”
One officer spoke quietly with Adrian near the fireplace.
The other stood by Voss, who had become perfectly calm again.
“I’m their obstetrician,” she was saying. “Mrs. Cole suffered a severe acute psychiatric episode following delivery. I came because the hospital was notified she had left with two infants against medical advice.”
Mara heard every word.
She stopped answering Sherry.
The paramedic followed her gaze.
“Keep looking at me,” Sherry said.
“She’s lying.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“They’re going to say I am.”
Sherry paused.
Then she nodded once.
“Then we document what’s in front of us.”
That sentence saved Mara from something she could not name.
She began answering again.
At one point a paramedic asked to cut away part of the hospital wrap to examine the bleeding.
Mara shook her head.
Adrian stepped forward.
Sherry put out a hand without looking at him.
“Sir.”
He stopped.
Mara stared at him.
He took one step back.
That mattered too.
When they lifted her onto the stretcher, she nearly blacked out.
The babies went into separate warmed carriers, each within Mara’s sight.
She hated it.
She let it happen.
There was a difference.
One of the police officers, a broad woman with tired eyes named Detective—no, Officer—Nolan, bagged nothing yet. She photographed the hospital bands where they were and asked Adrian not to remove them.
Voss watched from beside the elevator.
Her attorney arrived before the stretcher left the apartment.
He was a small gray-haired man in a raincoat despite the clear night.
“I’m advising Dr. Voss not to answer further questions.”
Nobody argued.
Voss moved toward the elevator.
Mara lifted her head from the stretcher.
“Why 6:14?”
Voss looked back.
Her lawyer touched her elbow.
She went into the elevator without answering.
The doors closed.
Mara kept watching the seam between them until it disappeared.
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At Metropolitan University Hospital, the night became fluorescent.
There were forms. Warm blankets. Blood tests. Ultrasound. A physician who spoke too fast, apologized, then spoke more slowly. Two pediatric nurses examined Lucy and Evan and pronounced them cold, hungry, stressed, but stable.
