CHAPTER 2 — THE EVELYN WHITMORE WING
Claire woke to the sound of wheels rattling over tile.
Bright lights moved above her.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then darkness.
Then light again.
Her wrists were strapped to the sides of a narrow hospital bed.
She tried to move her feet.
Leather restraints circled both ankles.
Panic surged through her chest.
“My baby.”
A monitor beside her produced a steady electronic rhythm.
A nurse glanced at the screen.
“The fetal heartbeat is stable.”
Claire turned her head.
The woman was young, perhaps thirty, with tired brown eyes and a name badge that read JUNE PARKER.
“Where am I?”
“Whitmore Behavioral Health Center.”
“Let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m not mentally ill.”
June lowered her gaze.
“I didn’t say you were.”
That answer caught Claire’s attention.
Before she could respond, the elevator doors opened.
The stretcher rolled into a long corridor covered in pale green wallpaper. There were no windows. Every door required an electronic key.
At the far end hung a brass plaque.
THE EVELYN WHITMORE MATERNAL WELLNESS WING.
Claire stopped breathing.
Evelyn.
The name Margaret had tried to erase.
“Who was Evelyn Whitmore?” Claire asked.
June’s hands tightened around the stretcher rail.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Please keep your voice down.”
“They used her name in my house.”
June glanced toward the security camera above them.
“Mrs. Whitmore, this is not the place to ask questions.”
The stretcher entered Room 14.
There was no artwork on the walls.
No telephone.
No curtains.
Only a bed fixed to the floor, a fetal monitor, and a small camera positioned in the upper corner.
Dr. Adrian Cole entered moments later.
He was in his early sixties, with carefully styled gray hair and the expression of a man who had spent years being obeyed.
Vanessa followed him.
Claire’s pulse accelerated.
“Get her out.”
Vanessa smiled.
“I’m your family representative.”
“You are not my family.”
Cole opened a folder.
“Mrs. Whitmore, you have been admitted for acute prenatal psychosis accompanied by paranoid delusions.”
“You’ve never examined me.”
“I’m examining you now.”
“You already signed the diagnosis.”
Cole pulled a chair beside the bed.
“Your recent behavior speaks for itself. Isolation. Refusal to eat. Accusations against family members. Attempts to flee the home.”
“I was locked in that bedroom.”
Vanessa sighed.
“You asked us to lock it.”
Claire stared at her.
“That’s not true.”
“You were afraid you might hurt yourself.”
“You tied me to the bed.”
“For your protection.”
“You threatened to take my baby.”
Vanessa leaned closer.
“If you continue behaving like this, no court will allow you near a child.”
Claire looked at Dr. Cole.
“She just threatened me in front of you.”
Cole wrote something in the folder.
“What are you writing?”
“Patient displays heightened suspicion and misinterprets ordinary conversation as a threat.”
Claire’s fear turned to rage.
“You planned this.”
Cole gave no answer.
Vanessa crossed one leg over the other.
“You should have stayed out of the library.”
Claire went still.
Cole looked at Vanessa sharply.
But Vanessa seemed unconcerned.
“You found something that didn’t belong to you,” she continued. “Then you invited a strange man onto our property.”
“He wasn’t a stranger.”
“Your husband doesn’t know that.”
“He will.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Nathan sees what he wants to see.”
Claire pulled against the wrist restraints.
“You sent him that photograph.”
“I protected my brother.”
“You cropped out the medical bag.”
Cole closed the folder.
“That’s enough.”
“No,” Claire said. “Ask her why the man came to the house. Ask her what was in the blood test.”
Vanessa’s smile disappeared.
Dr. Cole stood.
“Administer the medication.”
June picked up a small plastic cup containing two white pills.
Claire turned away.
“I’m not taking those.”
Cole nodded toward an orderly standing by the door.
The orderly stepped forward.
Claire began fighting the restraints.
“Don’t touch me!”
June moved between them.
“I can give her the liquid dose.”
Cole considered this.
“Do it.”
June poured clear medication into a paper cup.
As she lifted it to Claire’s lips, she whispered so softly that only Claire could hear.
“Pretend to swallow.”
Claire looked at her.
June’s expression did not change.
The cup touched Claire’s mouth.
Claire allowed the liquid to enter, then held it beneath her tongue.
Vanessa watched from the foot of the bed.
“When the baby is born, everything will be easier.”
Claire forced herself not to react.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you can focus on recovering.”
“And my child?”
Vanessa ran one finger along the metal bed rail.
“The baby will be raised in a stable environment.”
“You mean without me.”
“That decision will be made by doctors and the court.”
“No court has taken my child.”
“Not yet.”
Dr. Cole turned toward Vanessa.
“You should leave.”
She stood.
Before walking away, she bent beside Claire.
“You came into our family with nothing. Did you really believe carrying Nathan’s child made you untouchable?”
Claire’s voice was low.
“You’re afraid of what I found.”
Vanessa’s face tightened.
“You found an old piece of paper.”
“I found a living person.”
For the first time, genuine fear flashed in Vanessa’s eyes.
Then she left.
After the door locked, June raised Claire’s bed and pretended to adjust her pillow.
“Spit it into this.”
She held a folded tissue near Claire’s mouth.
Claire released the medication.
June concealed it inside her pocket.
“Why are you helping me?”
June checked the camera.
Its red light was still on.
“I worked the night shift the last time a pregnant woman was brought here from the Whitmore estate.”
Claire’s heart pounded.
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“What happened to her?”
June’s face lost its color.
“They transferred her before sunrise.”
“Transferred her where?”
“No one would tell us.”
“Did she survive?”
June’s eyes moved toward the brass plaque visible through the narrow window in the door.
Then she whispered:
“You’re not the first pregnant woman this family has called insane.”
Before Claire could ask another question, the lock clicked.
Dr. Cole returned with two orderlies and a restraint jacket.
In his hand was a new document.
At the bottom of the page was Nathan’s signature.
“Your husband has approved intensive treatment,” he said.
Claire looked at the signature.
May you like
Something inside her broke.
Because this time, she could not tell whether it had been forged.
