Chapter 2 - The Impossible Prisoner
"That’s impossible," Mark whispered, his voice cracking as he stared at the frozen image on the laptop. "She’s in prison. She’s been at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for the last six months."
The two detectives exchanged a sharp look. Detective Vance, a seasoned investigator with tired eyes, pulled out a notepad. "Mr. Mercer, if your aunt is currently incarcerated, then who is this woman?"
"I don't know!" Mark yelled, his hands flying to his hair, pulling at the strands in sheer frustration and terror. "But that is Elaine. Look at the mole near her left eye, the way her shoulder dips when she walks. I lived with her for four years after my parents died. I know my own aunt!"
I reached out, grabbing Mark’s arm, my knuckles white. My heart was still hammering against my ribs from the terror of nearly losing Lily. Lily—who was now hooked up to three different monitors in the neonatal intensive care unit, her tiny life hanging by a thread. "Mark, if she's in prison, how could she be here? Did she escape?"
Detective Vance immediately picked up his phone, stepping out into the sterile hospital corridor. The silence left behind was heavy, punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic beep... beep... beep of Lily’s heart monitor from down the hall.
Ten minutes later, Vance returned. His expression was grim, his jaw set tightly. "I just spoke with the warden at Bedford Hills. Elaine Mercer is currently in her cell. They performed a physical headcount five minutes ago. She hasn't escaped, and she hasn't had any visitors in three weeks."
"Then she has a twin," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "Mark, did she ever mention a sister? A twin?"
"No," Mark said, shaking his head wildly. "She was an only child, just like my dad. This doesn't make any sense."
The second officer, a younger woman named Detective Rossi, leaned forward. "We’ve sent the lab results from the IV bag to the toxicology department. It was a lethal dose of potassium chloride. It stops the heart almost instantly. Whoever did this didn't want to make Lily sick, Mrs. Mercer. They wanted her dead."
A cold sweat broke out across my neck. I looked back at the paused video. The woman in the scrubs possessed an eerie, chilling serenity. She didn't look like a frantic criminal; she looked like an executioner performing a routine task.
"We need to go to the prison," I stated, pulling the hospital blanket off my legs. My body ached from delivery, but the adrenaline overrode every physical pain. "We need to look Elaine in the eye and ask her who the hell is walking around with her face."
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"You're not going anywhere, Mrs. Mercer," Detective Vance said gently but firmly. "You just gave birth, and your daughter needs you. My partner and I will drive up to Bedford Hills immediately. We will get answers."
But as they turned to leave, Mark stood up. "I'm coming with you. She's my family. If she has some sick secret that is endangering my wife and daughter, I'm going to be the one to tear it out of her."
