Chương 3
Three from unknown numbers.
One from Daniel, her younger brother.
Two from Ethan.
One from someone saved as Dr. Patel.
Rachel’s thumb stopped.
Ethan had called twice in the last four minutes.
She opened the message thread.
Where are you?
Rachel please answer.
Do not speak to my mother.
Please.
Please answer me.
Rachel looked at the last message.
Then another arrived.
I can explain the twins.
Rachel stopped breathing.
Marisol saw her face.
“What?”
Rachel turned the phone around.
Marisol read the message.
Her eyes sharpened.
“The twins?”
Rachel’s voice barely worked.
“He knows.”
“Rachel.”
“He knows there are two fathers.”
Marisol put a hand on the edge of the bed.
“You don’t know that from one text.”
“He said he can explain the twins.”
“That could mean anything.”
“No.”
Rachel reread it.
Her skin felt cold.
“No, it can’t.”
She called Ethan.
He answered before the first full ring.
“Rachel.”
“Where are you?”
Silence.
“Ethan.”
“I’m coming back.”
“From where?”
“Baltimore.”
Rachel looked toward the window.
The city outside was washed in pale February light. She had no idea what Baltimore had to do with anything.
“Why are you in Baltimore?”
“I needed to talk to somebody.”
“Who?”
Another pause.
Rachel said, “Who?”
“My father.”
Rachel stared ahead.
Ethan Bennett’s father had been dead for eleven years.
Marisol’s hand tightened on the bed rail.
Rachel lowered the phone.
Then put it back to her ear.
“Say that again.”
“My biological father.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Rachel shut her eyes.
Of course.
Another secret.
Not the one she expected.
Somehow that made it worse.
“Your father is alive.”
“Yes.”
“And Margaret knows.”
“Yes.”
“And you learned this when?”
“Yesterday.”
Rachel opened her eyes.
“Before or after you stopped answering my calls?”
“Rachel—”
“Before or after?”
“Before.”
She looked at the bassinets.
“You left me here after I gave birth because you found your biological father?”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
“I can’t do this on the phone.”
“You’ve been doing everything else without me.”
He exhaled.
Rachel knew that exhale.
It was the sound he made when he believed an argument had become unreasonable.
She had once hated how much it calmed her.
Now she wanted to throw the phone.
“I found a document in my mother’s safe,” Ethan said. “Something about my birth. I confronted her. She admitted that the man who raised me wasn’t my biological father.”
“And this matters to our babies because?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I don’t know everything.”
“You know enough to text me that you can explain.”
“I know enough to know my mother is scared.”
Rachel laughed.
“She’s handcuffed.”
Silence.
“What?”
“The police just arrested her.”
“For what?”
Rachel stared at the bruise reflected faintly in the dark phone screen.
“Which part would you like first?”
“Rachel.”
“She tried to remove one of the babies yesterday. Without discharge. Without my consent.”
“I know.”
Everything in Rachel went still.
“You know.”
“She called me.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“You knew she tried to take one of my children.”
“She told me she was trying to protect us.”
“From what?”
“I didn’t understand.”
“You left anyway.”
“I thought—”
“No.”
“Rachel, listen to me.”
“No. You listen. Your mother assaulted me yesterday.”
Another silence.
Rachel waited.
His voice changed.
“What do you mean?”
“She hit me.”
Marisol looked away.
Rachel hated saying it.
The bruise felt worse once the words existed outside her.
“She hit you?”
“She grabbed me when I wouldn’t give her the baby. I fell against the bed rail. Then she slapped me.”
“Oh my God.”
“She told the nurse I was confused because of medication.”
“Rachel, I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I’m coming back.”
“You should have been here.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
She ended the call.
Her hand shook harder afterward.
Marisol took the phone from her before it slipped.
“He’s coming?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want him here?”
Rachel looked at the bassinets.
“I don’t know.”
It was the first truthful thing she had said in several minutes.
By noon, the hospital had changed Rachel’s room access.
No visitor could enter without her approval. Security posted a note at the nurses’ station. A social worker named Dana sat with Rachel for forty minutes, explaining protective orders, discharge planning, and what the hospital could and could not do regarding newborn custody.
“Marriage does not mean either spouse can just remove a baby contrary to medical discharge procedures,” Dana said. “But if you’re concerned your husband may attempt to take either child, you need legal advice quickly. Hospital security is temporary. Family law is not.”
Rachel stared at the legal pad on Dana’s lap.
“Do I sound insane?”
“No.”
“I slapped an elderly woman.”
Dana’s mouth twitched.
“I’m not your criminal defense attorney.”
“That was a diplomatic answer.”
“It was.”
Rachel looked at the bassinets.
“Everyone keeps asking if I’m afraid of Ethan.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Then Rachel reconsidered.
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s different.”
“He’s never hit me.”
“I didn’t ask whether he hit you.”
Rachel looked at Dana.
The social worker had a calm face and short silver earrings. She looked like somebody who had heard everything.
Rachel hated her for that calmness for about three seconds.
Then felt embarrassed.
“He lies,” Rachel said.
“About what?”
“Small things. Sometimes. Or he delays telling the truth until the truth is less useful.”
Dana wrote something.
Rachel frowned.
“What did you write?”
“That sentence.”
“Why?”
“Because it sounds important.”
Rachel leaned back.
Outside, a cart rolled past carrying lunch trays.
Someone dropped a fork.
The ordinary sound irritated her.
She wanted the whole building to understand that nothing was ordinary anymore.
Instead, a nurse in the hallway asked another nurse whether she wanted turkey chili or chicken noodle soup.
Rachel almost laughed.
Dana said, “What happened during the pregnancy?”
“What do you mean?”
“With your husband.”
May you like
Rachel’s first instinct was to say nothing happened.
Then memories came in fragments.
