Chapter 3 - Whispers in the Nursery
Claire did not think. She did not cry. The paralyzing fear that had gripped her for the last hour evaporated, replaced by the cold, fierce adrenaline of a mother whose family is under siege.
She rushed to the bassinet. Liam was soundly asleep, completely oblivious to the nightmare swirling around him. She lifted him gently, wrapping the blue blanket securely around his body, supporting his neck just as she had seen the nurses do.
"I've got you," she whispered, her voice a fierce, silent vow. "I've got you."
She looked at her phone. The countdown in her mind had already begun. Four minutes and forty seconds. If she called security, the person in the parking garage would see them coming on the monitors or receive a tip-off. If they were wearing hospital scrubs, they could be anyone—an employee, a former staff member, or someone who had stolen a uniform.
She slipped out of her room into the quiet corridor. The nurses' station was momentarily empty; a shift change was underway, and the sound of laughter and charting chatter drifted from the breakroom down the hall.
Claire avoided the main elevators. The text had specified the main lobby elevator, which meant she was expected to walk right into a trap. Instead, she slipped through the heavy fire door marked Stairs.
The stairwell was cold, concrete, and echoed with every breath she took. Her body screamed in agony with every step down she took. The physical trauma of childbirth was a heavy weight, but she pushed through it, her eyes fixed on the baby in her arms.
Floor 3. Floor 2. Floor 1.
She didn't go to the lobby. She exited on the first floor, which led toward the back exit of the hospital, near the ambulance bay and the physical therapy wing. It was a less traveled route, one she remembered from their tour of the facility a month ago.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She didn't dare stop to look at it until she reached the shadow of a vending machine alcove near the exit doors. She pulled it out.
You're trying to be clever, Claire. You're not at the lobby elevator.
Claire felt a chill go down her spine. They were watching the cameras. They knew she had left her room, but they hadn't caught her exact trajectory yet.
She replied. For the first time, she typed back.
I am coming. The stairs are slow. My stitches are tearing. Please don't hurt Daniel.
A beat. Then: Three minutes. Or he dies.
Claire looked through the glass doors of the exit. The parking garage was across a small access road used by delivery trucks. If she could get across that road and into the lower level of the garage, she might be able to surprise whoever was stalking Daniel, or at least create enough of a scene to save his life.
She pushed through the exit doors into the cool evening air. The transition from the warm, sterile hospital to the crisp night made her shiver. She tucked Liam beneath her hospital gown, shielding him from the wind.
She sprinted—a limping, painful jog—across the blacktop.
As she entered the lower level of the parking garage, the smell of exhaust and damp concrete hit her. It was dark, illuminated only by buzzing yellow sodium lights. She heard the distant thud of a car door closing on one of the upper levels.
"Daniel!" she tried to scream, but it came out as a ragged gasp.
She found the stairwell of the parking garage and began to climb toward Level 3, where their SUV was parked. Her lungs burned. Her vision blurred at the edges.
When she reached the heavy metal door of Level 3, she cracked it open slightly.
The scene was exactly as it had been on the video, but closer, sharper, and infinitely more terrifying.
Daniel was standing at the back of their SUV, his hands full with her blue overnight bag. A few yards away, stepping out from behind the concrete pillar, was the figure in black scrubs. The tire iron was raised now.
"Daniel!" Claire screamed with every ounce of strength she had left.
The sound echoed through the concrete cavern. Daniel spun around, startled. The figure in scrubs froze, turning their head toward Claire.
Through the darkness, Claire caught a glimpse of the person’s face beneath their surgical mask and low-brimmed hat.
It was a woman. Her eyes were wide, frantic, and filled with an intense, burning hatred that Claire recognized instantly, even though she hadn't seen this person in years.
It was Elena.
Elena was Daniel’s ex-fiancée, the woman he had broken up with four years ago, long before he met Claire. Elena had suffered a severe psychological breakdown after the breakup, unable to accept that Daniel had moved on. She had vanished from the city, and the family had assumed she was recovering in an institution out of state.
But she wasn't out of state. She was here. And she was wearing a nurse’s uniform.
"Claire?" Daniel shouted, his face twisting in utter confusion. "What are you doing down here? With the baby?"
"Daniel, behind you!" Claire yelled.
Elena didn't hesitate. Realizing the element of surprise was gone, she swung the tire iron toward Daniel’s head. Daniel ducked instinctively, the heavy metal bar smashing into the rear window of the SUV with a deafening crack of shattering glass.
"You ruined everything!" Elena shrieked, her voice high and distorted by madness. "He was supposed to be mine! We were supposed to have a family!"
Daniel tackled her. The overnight bag dropped to the ground, scattering clothes across the asphalt as Daniel grabbed Elena’s wrists, wrestling the weapon from her hands. Elena fought with animalistic strength, biting and scratching at his face.
"Claire, run!" Daniel roared as he pinned Elena against the side of the car. "Call the police! Run!"
Claire turned to sprint back toward the stairwell, but her foot caught on the strap of the fallen overnight bag. She tripped, falling hard to one knee, but she managed to twist her body at the last second, taking the brunt of the impact on her shoulder and thigh to protect Liam.
Liam began to wail, a sharp, piercing sound that filled the garage.
Elena heard the cry. With a sudden surge of strength, she kicked Daniel in the shin, breaking his grip. She didn't go after him again. Instead, she turned her crazed eyes toward Claire and the crying baby on the floor.
"If I can't have his family, no one can!" Elena screamed, lunging toward Claire.
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Claire scrambled backward on her elbows, holding Liam tightly against her chest. She was trapped against the concrete wall of the stairwell entrance. There was nowhere left to run.
Elena loomed over her, her face contorted in a mask of pure rage, raising her hands to tear the child away.
