Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO NEVER RAN AWAY
I should have gone home.
That would have been the sensible thing.
Instead, forty minutes later, I was sitting inside St. Matthew's Hospital with Caleb's note burned into my memory.
The police had taken my statement.
Daniel had not technically been arrested.
Not yet.
He had been detained while officers investigated what had happened.
I hated hearing that.
Because it meant he might be released.
A nurse walked through the waiting room.
“Family of Caleb Mercer?”
I stood instinctively.
Then stopped.
I wasn't family.
A woman across the room stood too.
She looked about thirty-five.
Red hair.
Jeans.
A white blouse that appeared to have been thrown on in a hurry.
Her face was pale.
“I'm his aunt.”
The nurse approached her.
“Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
Rebecca.
I stood.
“Excuse me.”
The woman turned.
“Are you Rebecca Mercer?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Laura Hayes.”
I pointed toward the hallway.
“I found Caleb.”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“You found him?”
“And the baby.”
Rebecca staggered toward a chair.
“Oh my God.”
I sat beside her.
“Are you okay?”
“Where is he?”
“They're treating him.”
“And Emma?”
“She's alive.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Tears immediately slipped down her cheeks.
“Thank God.”
I hesitated.
“There was a note.”
Her eyes opened.
“What note?”
“Caleb wrote your number.”
Rebecca stared at me.
“He said if something happened to him, someone should call you.”
Her face changed.
Fear replaced relief.
“Where's Daniel?”
“With the police.”
She grabbed my arm.
“Did he see the note?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca whispered something under her breath.
“What?”
“We have to get Caleb out of here.”
I frowned.
“He needs medical treatment.”
“Not out of the hospital.”
She looked around.
“Out of Daniel's reach.”
Before I could answer, a doctor approached us.
“Rebecca Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Dr. Patel.”
Rebecca stood.
“How is he?”
“Your nephew suffered severe heat exhaustion and dehydration.”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“But he's conscious.”
Her knees almost buckled.
I caught her elbow.
The doctor continued.
“We're monitoring his kidneys and cardiovascular function closely.”
“And Emma?”
“The infant is dehydrated but stable.”
Rebecca began crying.
“Can I see them?”
“We'll need to verify guardianship.”
“I'm their aunt.”
“Do you have identification?”
“Yes.”
She immediately opened her purse.
The doctor looked at me.
“And you are?”
“The woman who found them.”
Dr. Patel nodded.
“Caleb has asked for you.”
I blinked.
“For me?”
“He's been asking for the woman who broke the window.”
Rebecca looked at me.
“Go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please.”
A nurse led me down the hallway.
Caleb looked impossibly small in the hospital bed.
An IV ran into his arm.
His face was pale now instead of red.
A cooling blanket covered part of his body.
When he saw me, his shoulders relaxed.
“You came.”
“Of course.”
I sat beside him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is.”
Then his expression changed.
“Emma?”
“She's safe.”
His eyes closed.
He released a breath.
“Thank God.”
“Caleb.”
He looked at me.
“Why were you inside that minivan?”
He said nothing.
“You can tell me.”
His eyes moved toward the door.
“Is he here?”
“Your dad?”
Caleb flinched at the word.
“The police are talking to him.”
“That doesn't mean anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“He always gets out of things.”
I leaned forward.
“What things?”
Caleb looked toward the door again.
Then he whispered.
“My mom didn't run away.”
“I saw your note.”
“She found something.”
“What?”
“I don't know exactly.”
His breathing quickened.
“Something about Dad's company.”
“What company?”
“Mercer Child Services.”
I knew the name.
Everyone in the county knew it.
Mercer Child Services operated foster homes, youth shelters, and family support centers across the state.
Daniel Mercer wasn't just some father from a parking lot.
He was the executive director of one of the largest private child welfare organizations in the region.
My stomach turned.
“What did your mother find?”
“Files.”
“What kind?”
“She wouldn't tell me.”
Caleb swallowed.
“She said some children were being moved where they weren't supposed to go.”
A chill moved through me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Caleb, what happened to your mother?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Dad said she left.”
“But you don't believe that.”
“I know she didn't.”
“How?”
“Because she left her necklace.”
I frowned.
“Her necklace?”
“She never took it off.”
Caleb looked at me.
“And because three nights after Dad said she ran away…”
His voice dropped.
“I heard her underneath our house.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“She was crying.”
My skin prickled.
“Caleb.”
“I heard her.”
He began trembling.
“She was saying my name.”
I stood.
“We need to tell the police.”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“They asked Dad.”
“And?”
“He told them I had nightmares.”
Caleb's eyes moved toward the hallway.
“Then Dad started giving me medicine.”
“What medicine?”
“I don't know.”
“Did a doctor prescribe it?”
He shook his head.
“He put it in my orange juice.”
I felt sick.
“What happened today?”
Caleb looked at me.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he whispered.
“I stopped drinking the juice.”
“And?”
“Today I followed him.”
“Where?”
“To the old house.”
“What old house?”
“The one near Miller Road.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did you see?”
Caleb's face lost what little color remained.
“A room.”
“What was inside?”
His lower lip trembled.
“Cribs.”
I waited.
“How many?”
“A lot.”
“What else?”
“Boxes.”
“What kind of boxes?”
“Baby formula.”
He looked toward Emma's room.
“And hospital bracelets.”
I felt cold despite the hospital air.
“Caleb, how did Emma end up with you?”
He stared at me.
Then tears spilled down his face.
“I stole her.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I had to.”
“From where?”
“The house.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard Dad talking to another man.”
Caleb wiped his face.
“They said Emma wasn't supposed to exist anymore.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
He started crying harder.
“I grabbed her and ran.”
“How did you get to the minivan?”
“The keys were inside.”
“You drove?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I hid in the back.”
“Then who drove?”
Caleb looked at me.
“Dad.”
I couldn't breathe.
“He drove you to the shopping center?”
“He didn't know I was inside at first.”
“At first?”
Caleb nodded.
“When he parked, Emma started crying.”
“What happened?”
“Dad opened the door.”
Caleb's voice cracked.
“He looked right at me.”
My hands tightened.
“And then?”
“He didn't help us.”
Caleb looked directly into my eyes.
“He locked the door.”
I felt my blood turn cold.
“He knew you were inside?”
“Yes.”
“And he left?”
Caleb nodded.
“He said…”
His voice disappeared.
“What did he say?”
Caleb began shaking.
“He said I wanted to be a hero.”
I leaned closer.
“And?”
May you like
Caleb whispered the rest.
“He said heroes die first.”
